James Bidgood: Pink Narcissus, or The Woes of Money

James Bidgood, Cadet, Pink Narcissus

When I had just started university, "back in the days", I was asked to write a paragraph about 'a person I particularly admire'. My teacher at that time was a red-haired, henna-painted San Francisco native who would regularly spread some joy in the gray uni hallways with colourful pro-choice or gay-rights posters on her door. (That is how I remember her anyway...) Hence, I decided not to go with the typical "my grandmother because she has had a hard life" or "Beyoncé because... that booty!" choice. I went all the way and wrote a text about James Bidgood, whose Taschen monograph I had bought on discount in some obscure bookshop a few weeks before.

This is what 19-year-old me wrote about Bidgood: 

"The U.S.-American photographer and filmmaker James Bidgood is a person I particularly admire for his devotion to his work. Bidgood made his only film Pink Narcissus in the years from 1964 to 1970. In those six years, he and his leading actor shot scenes when they had enough money and otherwise lived from hand to mouth and slept in Bidgood's small apartment. There, he would design and build up all the required imaginative sets himself, using cheap and primitive materials such as plastic leaves, aluminium foil and chicken wire. Due to his perfectionism, Bidgood needed twenty to thirty takes and an incredible mass of footage for each scene. When the film was taken away from him before he could finish it he fell into depression and destroyed most of his film material. In regard to his enthusiasm and endurance as well as his creativity James Bidgood is an inspiration for many people who believe in what they love most."

James Bidgood, Mandolin, Gilded Cage, mid-1960s

Makes him sounds like a legend, doesn't it? To be honest, back then I wasn't to prone to research and most of the facts presented are probably taken straight from either the monograph or wikipedia. One thing I definitely omitted to acknowledge - negligently, I need to say, and for no good reason, given my rather, eh, liberal teacher: Bidgood is an artist with a vision. A very queer vision.

James Bidgood should be widely celebrated as a pioneer of gay art, because that is what he is. His images are wonderfully camp, bubblegum-coloured fantasies. The gorgeous boy models - Pink Narcissus' actor Bobby Kendall was Bidgood's lover - are wearing rather little, and in between all the glitter, glamour and kitsch (Bidgood's training as a New York costume designer certainly did not go unused) lies a naive longing for romance. The images, inspired by 1920s nude photography and the legendary Ziegfeld Follies revues, are a feast for the eyes, reveling in excess, in the beauty of a time where, to paraphrase the equally flamboyant Liberace, "too much of a good thing was wonderful".

Bobby Kendall in Pink Narcissus

But in the end, it was just a paragraph I had to write and I would soon move on to pen argumentative essays about whether homosexuals should be allowed to join the army (copies are provided on request). The monograph was packed into some box when I left the country some time later, and basically forgot. So when Out Magazine told their Facebook community today: "Fund This: James Bidgood's Art. The iconic photographer and designer is raising funds so he can continue creating.", it led me to make two surprising discoveries; that a) Bidgood is not, as I had assumed, dead; and b) that I am still totally crazy for his work, that I find it admirable, and that I think more people should be inspired by it.

So here's the deal: James Bidgood is fundraising. The godfather of all camp is alive and kicking, and he needs money to produce more glitz and glam with a new digital camera and (oh my goodness, think of the creative possibilities!) Photoshop. Because, you know, not every pioneer is rich. And even plastic leaves and chicken foil need to be paid.

So get your purse out, and excuse me while I go looking for the box with the monograph. And please say hi to my teacher.

Pride: Review

I finally managed to watch Pride yesterday. For everyone who completely missed out on Facebook, Twitter and every relevant magazine, here's the trailer:

I was naturally curious to see it, since it's set in South Wales (where I happen to live), it's about the gay and lesbian community (which I happen to support), and it's about the struggle of the Welsh miners in that capitalist catastrophe better known as the Thatcher era. Produced by the BBC and starring a whole bunch of top actors, the film had its big debut in Cannes, and from thereon set out to conquer our hearts. 

It's a cheery little gem, this film. It just does everything right that is needed in order to give the audience a bloody good time. There are the outsiders and the oppressed, lots of fairly complex yet not overbearing characters to sympathise with. There are cleverly-written, cunning, funny lines, and there's the notorious scene highlight that includes a group of innocent women, some of them elderly, and a dildo. There's the lovely underlying message, quite a few prejudices from all sides taken on with good humour, there's the link to the real events of 1984/1985, and a heart-lifting climax. There's Dominic West and Andrew Scott as a loving couple - how can you not love them?!

It's a simple formula, I guess. Yet it works. It is such a feel-good film, it should be taught in film class at every college as the best example of the feel-good film. I can't quite put my finger on what makes Pride so special. It might be that everyone involved in making this movie really seemed to care. Or maybe it is just Dominic West and Andrew Scott, or that adorable Welsh accent. Maybe y'all should go watch the film and find out for yourselves.

(Warning: You'll find yourselves with a very possessive tune stuck in your head, and a sudden urge to show solidarity to anything around you. That's not a bad thing, mind you.)