The ways in which artists become accepted by the art world are many and complicated. Take the reputations of Beryl Cook (1926-2008) and Touko Laaksonen, better known as Tom of Finland (1920-1991). Both spent most of their careers having their work either ignored or actively disdained by the establishment: Cook cast as purveyor of saucy seaside postcards in oil, Tom as homoerotic cartoonist. Then, later in life and having already attracted significant followings outside the gallery and museum systems, they were eventually granted some sort of official approval.
“But they have far more in common than just career trajectories,” says Joe Scotland, director of Studio Voltaire in London and co-curator of a new joint exhibition. “In formal terms they both articulate the human figure in very distinctive and hyper-realised ways. And from that emerges a wonderful sense of pleasure and fun and desire that is free of any sense of shame. You can also explore ideas around gender, class, politics, body image and much more in their work. And then, of course, there are simply joyous celebrations of some amazing bums.”
Cook came to public attention in the late 1970s when she was already into her 50s and running a guest house in Plymouth. Her brightly hued depictions of middle-aged women – usually dubbed “larger than life” – enjoying themselves whether in bars or on bowling greens were described by Victoria Wood as “Rubens with jokes”.
“Yet the notion of her work as naive persisted right up to her many obituaries,” says Studio Voltaire co-curator Nicola Wright. “There are also clear art-historical links in that she was much influenced by Stanley Spencer and then Edward Burra. And her paintings are important and empowering representations of working-class women’s lives, delivered in very direct and very humorous ways. She was also a queer ally – while she was married with kids she was surrounded by close friends who were gay and these depictions run throughout her practice.”
Tom of Finland – the name adopted to hide his identity – was in 1957 an advertising illustrator and part-time contributor to the American magazine Physique Pictorial, which specialised in well-muscled young men wrestling or doing whatever else would evade the censors of the time. In due course, his art became his primary activity; he began to distribute it by mail order and it became so successful he had to set up a company to protect his copyright as it was beginning to be pirated.
“For a long time it was somewhat dismissed as only of interest in terms of gay erotica,” says Scotland. “But people are increasingly examining the more conceptual side. It is very much about building imaginary scenarios and imaginary men. When he was growing up, gay men were habitually depicted as effeminate and weak and Tom explicitly wanted to counter this by representing gay men as masculine, strong, happy and celebrated.”
The result was hugely influential. The gay communities that emerged in the 60s and 70 were more taking their look – macho-inflected uniforms, leather, bikers, sailors, muscles etc – from him than he was representing them. “Tom had sort of invented a blueprint and you can see it everywhere from Jean Paul Gaultier to Freddie Mercury or even the Village People.”
Over the last decade or so, the Finnish state has officially embraced Tom, even issuing a set of commemorative stamps featuring his images. Cook received an OBE and her paintings are held in British museums. But there is still work to be done, says Scotland: “It’s interesting to speak to younger or international artists who aren’t familiar with all the baggage about her being populist and self-taught and so on. They don’t see her as so easy to dismiss and I think they are right. I hope this show leads to further re-evaluation of Tom and especially of Beryl’s work, and if the Tate were to acquire some of her work then I think we’d have done our job.”
In the flesh: works by Beryl and Tom
Beryl Cook – The Lockyer Tavern, 1976 This image of the back bar in a Plymouth pub launched Cook’s career. The bar was predominantly used by gay men but was also a space where straight women and sex workers were also welcome and felt safe. It is an early example of Cook documenting people and places in her home town that had been previously hidden.
Beryl Cook – Lady of Marseille, c.1990 (main image) Cook visited Marseille, where Edward Burra had painted the louche scene around the dockside cafes, and saw this woman and her little dogs. While the work is comedic and exaggerated, it has the striking ring of truth.
Beryl Cook – Bar and Barbara, 1986 Barbara Ker-Seymer had been a friend of painter Edward Burra, who recognised Beryl Cook as a kindred spirit. Cook painted Barbara on an imaginary and glamorous trip to New York saying that, while Cook was a mother who ran a guesthouse in Plymouth, through her work she lived a far racier life.
Tom of Finland – On the Bike, 1973 An archetypal Tom of Finland image of hyper-macho bikers and leathermen. His early commissions explicitly precluded him from including Black men, but as he gained autonomy over his career Tom often chose to represent Black figures and Black desire.
Tom of Finland – Untitled: From the Athletic Model Guild ‘The Tattooed Sailor’ series, 1961 An early work that illustrates one of Tom’s key tropes: the depiction of sailors with a sense of tenderness and humour that would have such an influence over the likes of Jean Paul Gaultier.
Tom of Finland – Untitled Portrait of Durk Dehner, 1984 Durk Dehner was a friend of Tom and is still involved in the Tom of Finland Foundation, which initially protected Tom’s work from piracy and was later instrumental in helping it transition from its dismissal as erotica to acceptance within a contemporary art context.
LONDON (AP) — With a few daubs of a paintbrush, the Brontë sisters have got their dots back.
More than eight decades after it was installed, a memorial to the three 19th-century sibling novelists in London’s Westminster Abbey was amended Thursday to restore the diaereses – the two dots over the e in their surname.
The dots — which indicate that the name is pronounced “brontay” rather than “bront” — were omitted when the stone tablet commemorating Charlotte, Emily and Anne was erected in the abbey’s Poets’ Corner in October 1939, just after the outbreak of World War II.
They were restored after Brontë historian Sharon Wright, editor of the Brontë Society Gazette, raised the issue with Dean of Westminster David Hoyle. The abbey asked its stonemason to tap in the dots and its conservator to paint them.
“There’s no paper record for anyone complaining about this or mentioning this, so I just wanted to put it right, really,” Wright said. “These three Yorkshire women deserve their place here, but they also deserve to have their name spelled correctly.”
It’s believed the writers’ Irish father Patrick changed the spelling of his surname from Brunty or Prunty when he went to university in England.
Raised on the wild Yorkshire moors, all three sisters died before they were 40, leaving enduring novels including Charlotte’s “Jane Eyre,” Emily’s “Wuthering Heights” and Anne’s “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.”
Rebecca Yorke, director of the Brontë Society, welcomed the restoration.
“As the Brontës and their work are loved and respected all over the world, it’s entirely appropriate that their name is spelled correctly on their memorial,” she said.
