Telling Tales: The Lost World of Anthony Gayton

A different Gay perspective

2011-10-11T02:04:00.000-07:00

Mein Schwules Auge is a German-produced gay anthology series, which has now reached its eighth volume. This small-format book, is packed with writings and images from gay artists all over the world, and is a serious exploration of contemporary gay expression beyond the mainstream.

This is the second time my work has been featured (the first was in MSA 3), and once again this volume contains several previously unpublished images of mine.

Mein Schwules Auge 8 is being presented this week at the Frankfurter Book Fair, and will then be available to purchase on Amazon.de, on the publisher's own website (http://www.konkursbuch.com) or from any good book store in Germany.

The attached article (featuring my image 'Dead Edwardians') is from the current issue of German gay mag DU & ICH.

Alex Reid - Up Close And Real

2011-08-11T02:10:00.000-07:00

I can now reveal that the 'secret celebrity' I shot (for GT magazine) is British ex-cage fighter, actor, and well-known man-about-town, Alex Reid. Having only (relatively) recently returned to England, I didn't know of Alex until informed of the shoot. It was probably just as well, as I had no preconceived ideas about either him or his image. The magazine should now be out (in Britain at least) and the accompanying article/interview by Jack Cullen perfectly sums up the general mood of the shoot, and our gut response to Mr. Reid. What an absolute charmer and joy to photograph the man is!

So, if you want to get up close (and real - none of that 'porcelain' skin retouching for this rugged hunk!) to Alex Reid, get hold of the September issue of Gay Times now!

Toy Boy

2011-04-16T01:54:00.000-07:00

Here is a new picture I shot recently, which may or may not become part of a larger series, entitled quite simply 'Toy Boy'.

The Passing Of Preferences

2011-03-25T07:44:00.000-07:00

PREF (known originally as Préférences) magazine in France has sadly come to end. PREF was a breath of fresh air in the increasingly bland world of gay media, and not only filled a much-needed intellectual gap, but showcased some of the most creative gay artists in the world. Every issue was a visual treat, from the amazing layout and printing quality, to the great features, illustration and photography.

Almost every major story I’ve ever shot was featured within its covers over the past decade, and above are a sample of the openers from several of those stories.

PREF you will be sorely missed. Merci Jacques.

Child's Play

2011-03-25T06:55:00.000-07:00

A morality tale in five (brand-newly-retouched) images. I've included my original sketches, to show how the images develop. The sixth sketched image ‘Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained’ was never shot, but did somehow influence the image ‘Happy Ending’ from my story ‘Behold The Man’, also to be found on this blog.

Weltreise

2011-02-10T02:34:00.000-08:00

Here finally is the complete fashion spread I shot with Austrian top model Philipp Bierbaum for Schaufenster (Die Presse). This was probably one of the most complicated productions I’ve ever shot. Not only did I want Philipp to appear in a different location in every image (though actually shot in the studio), but always positioned in front of or behind glass in which the location (rather than myself) was reflected. Still, I love nothing if not a good old technical challenge, and the resulting images are so satisfyingly simple.

Melancholia

2011-02-08T05:48:00.000-08:00

One of the good things about living in a small town is the access to ‘models’ I wouldn’t normally come across in the city. These images are a continuation of a theme of medical/anatomical photography I’ve been working on, and hopefully the beginning of a larger series. Like a lot of my work, the internet doesn’t do these images justice - they need to be seen large, so I will hopefully be exhibiting them, once the series is completed.

A Man Of Many Parts

2011-02-08T04:53:00.000-08:00

After reducing him to a piece of (albeit very desirable) flesh, I thought I'd better mention the model from the previous shoot. Walter has modelled for me many times, always easy and willing to put up with whatever I ask of him; from flagellated saint to amputated boxer. Actually a trained kick-boxer, Walter is not just a model, but an absolute role-model. Strong and gentle, open and fun, kind and hungry. Hungry? Yes. Well, he's a growing lad.

Practically perfect Walter is managed by Tempo Models, Vienna: www.tempomodels.com.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

2011-02-08T04:26:00.000-08:00

An unusually simple fashion spread I shot last year (published in Name It magazine in Austria), but have only got round to posting now. The obvious idea here is the fetishism of various body parts, seen through those occasional glimpses we catch on the street or the beach. The surprise awakening of private lust in a public space often gives these moments an intensely erotic charge. The thrill of the voyeur, I suppose - or is that just me? Certainly the idea stems from an experience I once had on the London Underground at rush-hour. The intimacy of strangers...

Russian Out

2011-01-28T04:05:00.000-08:00

Just received my copy of the January issue of Russian magazine Kvir. This is my first publication in a Russian magazine, and includes an interview and feature spread. The cover is taken from my series 'Boksač'. Above is just a sample from the magazine, which does feature many more images. Quite strange seeing my name in Russian!

Falling Awake

2010-12-02T05:14:00.000-08:00

All his adult life, James had had two recurring dreams. The first was of his castle, though it was almost never the same twice. Once, he had entered through iron gates, past the graveyard in the center of a town wet with cobbled streets, the scent of woodsmoke permeating the cool night air. Another time he had flown in exhilarated from a different adventure, to find the monumental ruin sprawling the rocky coast, the bracing wind holding him in a cloud-blue sky. Whatever form it took, it was always his castle and he knew he had come home.

The second dream was of his lover, who though oddly always the same person, was elusive, appearing unexpectedly only to vanish at the moments of exquisite intensity. Unlike his castle, his lover was the opposite of possession, leaving nothing but desire and the absence of love, sweet, like apples rubbed in the palms of his hands. Once he had accosted James at the side of a country road in summer, flamed by familial threats in the manner of a Montague, sweating and beautiful, wild and innocent. He was as stubborn as a spoilt child, but as brave as a mother, and James could only smile, holding him as closely as he dared without losing focus, afraid of the inevitable. He faded, his image crumbling in James’ hands as ashen as dead sea fruit.

Forced for a description, James would have called himself a romantic realist; a firm belief in the senses coupled with an optimistic, robust imagination. To him, the essence of romance lay in its subjectivity. He rejected orthodox notions of valentine-roses and dim, candlelit dinners. His romance was a shipwreck-night-dark of violent tenderness and silent conversations. His love was as fair as the moon and as clear as the sun.

As a teenager he had attempted to find romance in the waking world, with his heart on his sleeve, and a naive belief in love at first sight - that his sincerity and passion would be mirrored in that moment of initial eye contact. Experience had taught him that the passions he thus aroused in other men were rarely sincere and usually began and ended with a furtive grope of his penis.

He had read widely, but had found only in Plato a description of romantic love he could relate to: Love as the desire for the perpetual possession of the beautiful. This was surely a love to be won by arduous deeds of physical strength or mental agility, not a suggestive wink and a nod in the direction of the nearest public toilet.

His loneliness became so intense that he began to consider death. He saw no fiery depths or dizzy clouds; it was the gravestone version, calm and comforting: ‘He fell asleep...’ The eternal dream. So, where others took up sport or simply stared into a television set, dreaming became James’ hobby.

It is Halloween. A barrel of bobbing-apples each with their own hidden legend has been placed firmly in the middle of the great hall. I stand divided in the twilight, the shadows of the hall stretching to an empty blackness, not even the crackle of the hearth to comfort the immense silence. With the vague knowledge that I am running to or from someone, I take the spiral stone staircase. I move trance-like up or down it, momentarily afraid of some Escher-like labyrinth. The solitary sound of a creaking door breaks the spell. I am standing before it, and push the heavy, waxen oak, which opens onto a bare chamber lit by two thick candles. The only other object is a dark, wooden mirror. I remember everything - where and who I am. Somewhere a clock strikes midnight. Running my fingers through my hair, I bite into the apple. The light alters perceptibly whilst, as through a fog, the image of my true love appears over my shoulder and I turn, eyes mist-moist, to embrace him.

Seeking solace in sleep, James had discovered his Platonic ideal and, inadvertently, another world whose rules he would have to learn. Looking for answers in the waking world, he had turned naturally to Freud and Jung. Interpretation and analysis were though for him redundant if not contradictory terms. They negated the vital fact that what occurred in his dreams could actually have an entirely literal explanation. At the age of twenty-four he had slept for at least a third of his life, and refused to dismiss those eight years as merely vague and disputable echoes of his subconscious. Haunted by a certainty that his lover really existed somewhere, somehow, he chose simply to accept and embrace his dreams as a parallel reality. James knew he had a ready imagination, but hardly one capable of inventing a figure of such consistent complexity.

His view of reality, though idiosyncratic, was no less plausible than that of others he knew. An irrefutable belief in virtual lovers who existed in a virtual world was commonplace among his day-acquaintances. To James, who had in his dreamworld physically loved and lived, their revelations seemed nothing more than a hollow product of wish-fulfillment.

The Great War has been over some time already, a time of readiness and rebirth. There is a party in progress. Not sure if I am an uninvited guest or not actually there at all and am watching the proceedings as one does a film, as no-one will acknowledge my existence. Gradually the guests begin to disperse, chattering through the open doors, and I see M. He is seated on a wooden throne-chair, and his father stands over him, proudly pointing to a group of girls in the corner. They wear their beauty in the graceful armour of flowery-flowing dresses. Tenderly they touch each others’ hair and frocks, and smile secrets. Outside their ring, M hangs his head and a golden apple falls from his hand. Harmony and discord. It splits as it lands, and a whippet resplendent in white ruff chews on it lazily, spitting chunks across the parquet floor.

M is alone now, in a corner by the stained glass window, and I reach across the table to comfort him, burying my face in his raven hair. He weeps regardless and I realize that he can not see me. I am invisible or angel.

Early morning in the lower garden. I am running towards the woods. The snow recedes and spring comes, as if I am being taken forward in time. M is standing at the edge of the lake, staring down at the blank surface. As I approach, my body begins to decelerate, becomes stiff, and my sight starts to fail. He calmly enters the cool water and lays himself down. His pockets are weighted. I have no voice to call. My body becomes as petrified as the stones dragging him down, and I am unable to move, to rescue him. He sinks slowly, as I myself become nothing but a raw, shivering sadness in the enveloping dark.

Time, so deceptively linear and logical in the waking-world, ran by a very different set of rules in his dreams. He had been a participant in his lover’s life and an observer of his death, but knew time was playing tricks on him. His death, as disturbing as it was, was obviously a part of their story over which James could have had no control. His dreams though were not stories; they did not conveniently begin or end. He could not write his dreams, anymore than he could dictate, by will alone, his fortune in his day-life. He believed, however, in the possibility of directing fate through physical intervention. Like an astronaut or a free-diver, he practiced dreaming, managing to spend consecutively longer periods of time immersed in sleep.

I am walking up a flag-stoned street on a bright morning in spring or autumn. There are watchmen idling on the corner. I have passed them a little way, when M appears from a shop doorway. He is slightly thinner, but still beautiful with his thick lips and scruffy cream pullover, and I know now that he is German. I put my arms around his shoulders, not wanting to let go. I sit down under his shadow and he comes to me; his left hand is under my head and his right arm embraces me. I am only afraid his father might find us, and want peevishly to go back to the town to look for a disguise. He has a melancholy smile.

‘My father is dead.’

His voice raises my suspicions, my hopes. Suddenly I see through him.

‘As are you.’

‘Yes.’

He leans forward as to kiss me, but instead whispers words almost inaudible; place names, directions, which, because I have to strain to hear, seem carved in stone.

The thin grey line dividing obsession from addiction has been crossed, one assumes, when the influence of the object over the subject tips decidedly to the negative. James had taught himself however to read between the lines, and knew that nothing was gained without taking risks. His daily existence while pleasant enough at times, had always lacked the vividness and excitement he had experienced at even the most mundane moments with M. Quitting his job and cancelling the daily deliveries of milk and papers, he packed his diaries and went to Germany.

The gravestone could easily have been mistaken for an old signpost, half-buried under grass and thorn, far from any cemetery. James sat in an agitated silence, stroking the damp, mossy stone, repeating the same single word: ‘Michael.’

The castle showed no signs of life, as James entered with ease through a broken window. He shivered involuntarily, from no sense of danger; rather from the rank coolness of the interior. He searched each room, feeling like someone revisiting the house he had grown up in, now owned by others; a place superficially new and strange, with an underlying sense of belonging.

Finding nothing more than bare musty rooms and the occasional fragile skeletons of small creatures long since dead, he sought his way back to the great hall. Until this moment he had acted purely on instinct, thrilled onwards by the realization of his dreams. This was the journey’s end. It had not occurred to him what should happen next. Since his last encounter with Michael he had been constantly travelling. Tiredness enveloped him now, as he lay himself down on splintered parquet in the failing sunlight.

Michael takes my hand, smiling at me fondly, his face no longer marred by sadness. We are balanced on the edge of the balcony, the drop to the courtyard far below daunting in the moonlight. I can hear the blood pulsating past my ears to throb at the temples, and my palms are slick with sweat. The cool marble chills my bare feet. I am dizzy from the height and the realization of what we are about to do.

His outstretched hand flailed violently at thin air, suddenly desperate for want of Michael’s steady grip. Losing his balance, he slipped from the dew-damp edge. He fell, awake, not in fear, but with a resigned sense of relief and ironic contentment that this life should end in flight.

Michael reached down to help him, as James woke again.

‘Rise up,’ he said ‘my love, and come away.’

As James stood, he looked briefly back down at his lifeless, bloodied body on the hard ground. The air was ripe with birdsong and the scent of orchard apples.

Bonding

2010-12-02T04:59:00.000-08:00

A Bond-themed series published in Schaufenster, the weekend fashion & lifestyle supplement of Austrian newspaper Die Presse. It was the spontaneous product of my meeting South African model Kris Erasmus (tempomodels.com) who was passing through Vienna. I had only two days to organize and shoot this, while working simultaneously on my ‘Mirror Mirror’ story. I was also still working for Andreas H. Bitesnich at the time, who not only bore this with his usual good humour, but even ‘lent’ me two of the locations (France & Thailand). The rest were shot by myself in Austria, England, and of course China.

Behold The Man

2010-11-27T04:26:00.001-08:00

Barnaby practically lived in the library

Studying physics, astrology, chemistry

Looking to logically unravel mysteries

Locked inside his heart

Flicking through books on disease and dissection

He dwelt on the pictures of manly perfection

Until he was teased by a telling erection

Locked inside his pants

Discovering even in science desire

His conscience awoke and uncovered a liar

Whose only reprieve lay in trial by fire

If fiction held the truth

It told of princesses with long flowing tresses

Of hazelnut dresses and girls with three guesses

All ending in happiness, love and caresses

Which made him rather sad

He wasn’t renowned for his beauty or pluck

Had neither won favour with labour nor luck

Just telling his neighbour he fancied a fuck

Would only end in tears

Avoiding temptation or humiliation

He boarded a train in the roar of frustration

To lakeside and mountains and pure isolation

The rain poured down

Days floated by in a physical sweat

But dangerous dreams left him equally wet

So he boated each night with a bottle to get

Roaring drunk

Out on the lake as the oars dipped tightly

He paused and gaped as the moon quite brightly

Caused him to notice the shape of a slightly

Dead young man

He freed the youth’s face from a tangle of hair

And fell to his mouth with medicinal care

Restoring two lives and acutely aware

Of his first real kiss

‘I know you’ he said on the shoreline shaking

Barnaby feeling the ice-berg breaking

Down as their hot and sorely aching

lips met among the leaves.

The Sins Of The Masters

2010-11-27T03:34:00.001-08:00

One of my personal favourites, possibly because the model is my boy-who-could-do-no-wrong Michael Reiter. This was our last story together, an odd mix of Old Masters meet S&M, hence the pretentious title. For the first time, here is the complete series, accompanied by a few of the paintings which inspired them. Spot the difference.

My Beautiful Bully

2010-11-27T02:32:00.000-08:00

Another unpublished story, and an example of a project that failed miserably. Six images, seen in sequence, form the Oscar Wilde quote: “When the Gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.” A nice little concept on paper, but one that I just couldn’t realize satisfactorily. Only five images were completed, and one of those was an awkward compromise. Still, the basic idea (young lad in love with an older boy who makes his life a misery) and the first image were recycled for ‘Jude’s Kiss’, my first doll story and rather more successful translation of the concept. Every cloud, as they say.

(Not Quite) Home Alone or How My Apartment Became A Star

2010-11-26T10:33:00.001-08:00

The images above are from three separate shoots, yet all have two things in common: all were shot in my apartment in Vienna, and all share a similar aesthetic. One model test, one fashion editorial and a rather tame shoot for American Playgirl; the real star was always my original 1960’s kitchen, which just begged for jock-straps and white pants à la Champion Studios (my favourite of all the 60’s physique photographers). My two cats also always managed to get in on the act, and the image ‘Locked Drawer’ (grey cat on desk) is a particular favourite of mine as it is genuinely spontaneous. Oh yes, there are some boys in the pictures too.

The Harem (and The Ones That Got Away)

2010-11-26T08:51:00.000-08:00

The main premise of The Harem was to suggest that too much of a good thing can actually be quite dull. Nobody seemed to agree however, and Sebastian Pils (wienermodels.com) became an overnight hit.

With the internet literally heaving with fine specimens of manhood, one would assume this would be an easy role to cast. It was not. My original plan was to shoot it with Amin (the boy leaning on the chair-back above) who, by the time I was ready, had been drafted for a year's military service. My next choice, Livio (who I’d already photographed several times; see ‘American Dreamboy’), also pictured above, refused. So began months of fruitless searching; either the face or the body didn’t fit, or else models would, like Livio, refuse to shoot this image. One professional model even agreed then failed to turn up on the day of the shoot, leaving us all pointlessly waiting at Vienna's famous Kaiserbründl Sauna.

I had almost given up hope of ever completing this image, when Sebastian appeared on the Wiener Model website, like an answer to my prayers.

Looking back I can’t imagine having shot this with anyone else, Sebastian being not just beautiful, but able to exude gentle arrogance or assured sensuality with seeming effortlessness. Still, a Harem full of Amins or Livios probably wouldn't have been found that dull either...

The Workers Backstage

2010-11-26T07:41:00.000-08:00

Just searched through the archives after that last post and dug up this polaroid with Mr Kratzig, the owner of the workshop. This image never made it onto film, as it didn’t fit stylistically with the other, darker images, but I thought I’d post it here as a kind of backstage memento.

The Workers

2010-11-26T06:29:00.000-08:00

This series was actually never published. A fashion spread inspired by an exhibition I’d seen at the time of the documentary photographer Lewis Hine. The location was an original 19th Century printing workshop (still in use!) in the heart of Vienna. Shot mostly with non-professional models, including two champion kick-boxers.

Boys Will Be Boys

2010-11-26T05:20:00.001-08:00

As my official website (www.anthonygayton.com) is getting a much-needed overhaul, I’ve decided to add a few complete series to the blog. What better way to begin, after mentioning Marcel, than with ‘Boys Will Be Boys’, a nostalgic visit to my school-days, and a story Marcel inspired me to create for him. More stories to follow.

The Making Of A Male Model

2010-11-26T05:13:00.000-08:00

Although many of my models over the years have come from model agencies, several of them are boys I ‘street cast’ with no prior experience. While it is theoretically true that anyone can be a model, there is a great difference between being good-looking and being photogenic. Before working with any ‘street’ model on a larger story, my first job is to haul them into the studio for a portrait, to determine just how photogenic they are. The simple portraits above are examples of successful candidates. Of the four though, I only went on to work extensively with the two dark-haired boys, simply because their looks fitted to stories and images I had planned at the time. Both of these boys are now represented by TEMPO Models in Vienna (tempomodels.com / tempo-people.at), and Marcel (at top) has become quite a favourite on the internet, especially through our own images and those of American photographer Sam Scott Schiavo (samscottschiavo.blogspot.com).

Foul Play

2010-11-04T04:47:00.000-07:00

Earlier on this Blog I featured the fashion production I shot for Austrian Label ‘Superated’ as part of the cultural events for the European Football Championship in 2008. Another project for this event, which I haven’t yet mentioned, was the HOMO:FOUL poster competition organized by www.qwien.at. The competition was open worldwide to produce a poster tackling homophobia in institutional football. My submission was produced in cooperation with Die Grünen Andersrum, the section of the Austrian Green Party concerned with discrimination. My basic premise was to take a positive angle, and produce a fictional ‘recruitment’ poster. We didn’t win of course, because: a) It was considered too subtle, and b) I NEVER win competitions. Oh and I almost forgot, c) There were better entries! Still, no reason not to share this, now the shame of losing has long passed. We did also produce a version with female footballers, but here for now are two versions with the lads.

A Few From The Vaults

2010-10-25T06:52:00.000-07:00

I mention on my website that I made the foolish mistake of destroying much of my early work from the late eighties, both prints and negatives. This summer I was pleasantly surprised to discover some old prints which had luckily escaped the great purge, gathering dust in the family attic. They may just have a ‘period’ or sentimental value now, but I thought I’d share them here. As with the ‘Early Work’ images on my website, they demonstrate an interest in technical experimentation (all were produced in the darkroom) combined with the creativity of a die-hard romantic.

Tendencias (The Ever-So-Slightly-Slurred Interview)

2010-07-22T12:38:00.000-07:00

The MiTO exhibition in Barcelona isn't exactly news, but if you missed it and are still curious, or would simply like to see me giving an interview ever-so-slightly sloshed (nobody warned me about this!), then follow the link to youtube (be patient - for some reason it begins properly at 00.32):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mM4uhLTTGIs

Saint Matthew

2010-03-30T09:11:00.000-07:00

As well as larger stories and projects, I occasionally take quite simple portraits of models, which I keep for later reference or just to discover how photogenic they are. I never publish or exhibit these portraits, so thought I would share my latest 'discovery' with the Blogosphere at least. Matthias is not a model, but a very photogenic and youthful looking 25 year old, I met by chance. I am sure you will be seeing more of him...

Something for your Lunch Break, Sir?

2010-03-17T04:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since my last publication in the French magazine PREF. To make up for it, the new March/April issue has not only my brand new story 'Pause Déjeuner' (the location being the cardboard model toilet I built for 'Jude's Kiss'), but also features two images taken from my 'Behold The Man' story. PREF is one of the most interesting gay magazines available. Even if you can't speak French it is still worth checking out as it contains some of the best illustration and photography around. PREF is available throughout France in bookstores or to order online: www.prefmag.com.

DE PICTURA

2010-02-27T02:30:00.000-08:00

Here are a couple of pictures from the exhibition at the Espai Metropolità d'Art de Torrent, mentioned below. I will post more, or at least better, pictures as I get them. There is also a great (and beautifully printed) catalogue available, featuring all the works. The cover is my picture 'David & Goliath' from 2001.

The Exhibition Is Dead - Long Live The Exhibition!

2010-01-27T06:58:00.000-08:00

As my ‘Behold The Man’ show comes finally to an end in Barcelona, so another exhibition begins...

‘De Pictura - En Defensa De La Belleza’ is a group exhibition starting on February 10th at the Espai Metropolità de Torrent near Valencia in Spain. The show will be an interesting combination of historical painting and contemporary photography which references painting, particularly from an historical viewpoint. I am one of twelve photographers chosen and will be showing several works alongside Carlos Cid, Victoria Diehl, Pierre Gonord, Ellen Kooi, Yasumasa Morimura, Erwin Olaf, Pétur Thomsen, Peyrotau & Sediles, Javier Velasco and Manuel Vilariño.

DE PICTURA - EN DEFENSA DE LA BELLEZA

Espai Metropolità d’Art de Torrent

Avinguda al Vedat 103, 4a planta

Torrent / Valencia

From 10th February until 18th April 2010

Opening times:

Tues-Sat 10am til 2pm and 4.30pm til 8.30pm

Sun 10am til 2pm

Closed Mondays

Free Entrance

Straight As An Arrow

2010-01-26T10:23:00.000-08:00

Call me old-fashioned, but I’ve always had a thing for Saint Sebastian. I know - we’ve moved on, Pierre & Gilles did him anyway, and all the other pointless criticisms I hear, but sorry, there’s just something about the boy.

My first attempt was back in 1990, shot arrow-less in our back garden in London. The joys of photo-montage some years later allowed me to finally shoot him speared, and my last version (from 2008) was more, well, bondage-themed. More recognizable than any figure from mythology, more desirable than other barely-clothed-and-painfully-suffering-figures in Christian Art (to mention no names), he is simply the icon of icons. Indulge me.

“As wolves for lambs, so lovers lust for boys”

2010-01-18T04:17:00.000-08:00

This quote from the Phaedrus was the inspiration behind my most recent ‘kiss’ story and image. Written in the form of a limerick, the story is about a rich and wicked man with an insatiable lust for lads. As with ‘Jude’s Kiss’, the location is actually a cardboard set I built entirely by hand.

The Muses (part three)

2010-01-18T04:00:00.000-08:00

Michael, oh Michael! The one model I’ve probably photographed more than any other in the course of my brief career. Michael was the ripe old age of fifteen when I first met him, and I shot at least one big production a year with him until he was nineteen. Above is a selection of some of our many stories, most of which I created especially for him. Not a typical model by any means. Too short for a career as International model and catwalk star, Michael was a regular boy-next-door, who could quite simply transform into a demi-god the moment you pointed a camera at him. I’ve noticed this with a lot of Austrian guys. They can often exude an effortless air of natural sensuality, which bears absolutely no relation to their real character. Michael was a genius at this, and it was almost impossible to put the camera down whenever he was around. Probably one of my most popular models, Michael is the only one of my ‘muses’ who is actually represented by an agency, and more can be seen of him on my website, and on the website of his mother agency, Stella Models: www.stellamodels.com.

The Women

2010-01-08T02:17:00.001-08:00

At the beginning I almost exclusively photographed women. This was partly because I loved fashion photography, and partly because it was always easier for me to ask girls to model. When I began taking pictures again in the late 90’s I used male models, as all my images were shot purely as personal projects, and it was easier - I didn’t have to rely on a large team, but could often work entirely alone with the model.

Although I am largely now known for my men, I have begun slowly but surely photographing women again. The selection above is a mixture of personal work, fashion editorials and private portraits.

The Muses (part two)

2010-01-08T02:10:00.000-08:00

When I was asked to take part in Blue Magazine’s special BLUE MUSE issue in 2005, the decision as to exactly who my muse would be was an easy one. Martin had become my obsession. Although his images always meet with mixed receptions, I simply couldn’t photograph him enough. Easy-going, charming, humorous, and totally relaxed in front of the camera, he was the New Muse. Our first project, in 2003, was a series of Victorian-style nudes which became a large part of my book ‘Sinners & Saints’. He was also one of the few models I ever filmed, as part of an exhibition installation.

He was an apprentice car-mechanic at the time, and his wonderfully soft and hairless skin combined with his perpetually dirty finger-nails became the inspiration not only for the Victorian series, but for what became the Whitman Triptych and the ‘Dirty Saint’ image seen below on the cover of the MiTO newsletter.

A truly beautiful man.

Behold The Man - Raw

2009-12-31T01:38:00.000-08:00

Two short making-of films made by Michael Stock, the hair stylist, with his mobile phone! These are quite interesting, as they show the shooting of images which I then subjected to very differing kinds of post-production. They are also two raw and rare glimpses into my studio. The final images can be seen further down the blog.

The model is Martin Adamy (www.bodyandsoul.at), and the stylist is Nino Pavlek (www.ninopavlek.com).

Mid Life Crisis!

2009-12-21T02:35:00.000-08:00

The title of my fourth ‘kiss’ story, and my permanent state of being for the last three years! The Kiss Series has taken me on several journeys this year, and I have tried to visually translate my ideas in as many different ways as possible. ‘Jude’s Kiss’ was an extremely complex project involving a written story and scale set-construction. ‘Le Baiser Interdit’ (told purely through photographic images) saw me location-shooting in France. ‘Behold The Man’, an illustrated poem, involved everything from writing, studio- and location shooting, to illustration.

Mid-Life Crisis is a fairy tale, and explores the idea of the ‘freely-given kiss’. This is something I had personally never even considered until a couple of years ago, and has become a theme which has haunted me ever since. The story is illustrated quite simply with portraits of men between the ages of thirty-five and forty-five, each with their own alter-egos.

The entire story was printed in the MiTO newsletter, in conjunction with the ‘Behold The Man’ exhibition, and as mentioned before is available upon request at MiTO Gallery in Barcelona.

The Muses (part one)

2009-12-10T09:44:00.000-08:00

It is difficult to describe the qualities which exactly define a muse. Interesting looks, enigmatic character? The result, of course, is inspiration; the ability to create works which may or may not include them, but of which they are the catalyst.

Over the last ten years, I have photographed just three boys I would call my muses. They are boys I have worked with on many occasions, and always over a period of several years. They are also all boys who have inspired me to create stories specifically for them.

Mateusz (above) was seventeen when I first began taking his picture. He wasn’t a model when we met (in a cult second-hand clothes store in Vienna), but did become one briefly, before embarking on his career as DJ. This was the end of the 90’s, and I had only just begun taking pictures again myself, and Mateusz made an appearance in almost every one of my stories. What made him a muse? I think it was his eyes. Not just because of their interesting form, but when he looked through the camera, you thought he held answers to all the mysteries of the world behind those eyes. He didn’t of course, but that’s the role of a muse I suppose; one wants the inspiration, not the reality.

Around The World (In a Day)

2009-12-04T08:23:00.000-08:00

Today (and for one day only!) my men’s ‘round-the-world’ fashion story is out in Schaufenster, the weekend supplement to Austrian daily newspaper Die Presse. I have been working once or twice a year with Schaufenster for a while now, and we almost always seem to end up producing ‘location’ stories shot in the studio. This one is no exception and sees Austrian top model Philipp Bierbaum (with Tempo Models Vienna), travelling the world courtesy of photoshop. Above are some of my covers from the last four years, the top one being from today’s issue.

Another Kiss

2009-11-27T03:10:00.000-08:00

‘Behold The Man’ is not just the title of my latest exhibition, but also of the third of my ‘kiss’ stories, which I completed this summer. Using the kiss of resuscitation, this story is actually about fate and the impossibility of running away from your destiny, and most importantly from your own true self. Above are the four real action images in the story, which is also told through book illustrations, snapshots, and dreams. The entire story with poem can be seen/read on my website.

Eyemazing

2009-11-21T09:45:00.000-08:00

To call Eyemazing a magazine doesn’t quite do it justice. Released quarterly, each issue has the quality and dimensions of a lush photo-book, and it certainly well-merited the Lucie Award for Best Photography Magazine of 2008.

The latest issue (No.4) is no exception, and is a stunning selection of some of the most intriguing and challenging contemporary photography. My own contribution to this issue is my ‘Beautiful Freak’ series which, coincidentally, is also part of the ‘Behold The Man’ show currently running at MiTO Gallery in Barcelona.

Eyemazing is available worldwide in all good bookstores. It can also be ordered online: www.eyemazing.com

A New Opening

2009-11-21T09:25:00.000-08:00

‘BEHOLD THE MAN’ is finally up and running. It has been two years since the last show at MiTO Gallery, and it was wonderful to be back in Barcelona. As always, we have worked extremely hard to create an interesting and entertaining show. Rather than the previous concept shows (The Angelus, The Fall), this one is a homogenous mix of stories, produced, for the most part, over the last two years. The opening was packed and as lively as always, and I would like to thank everyone who helped make the evening such a great success. We have also produced a beautiful and informative newspaper in connection with the exhibition, which is available on request at the gallery. The show runs until January 14th 2010.

MiTO Contemporary Art Gallery, Rosselló 193, 08036 Barcelona, Spain.

Opening times: Tues-Fri 10am-2pm / 5pm-8.30pm. Sat 10am-2pm

Exhibition Reminder

2009-11-17T03:46:00.000-08:00

Just a quick reminder that the BEHOLD THE MAN exhibition begins this Friday at MiTO Gallery in Barcelona. The opening night is Thursday 19th, 8.00pm start. I am in Barcelona already, busy preparing, and will be present at the opening.

Superated

2009-11-06T04:48:00.000-08:00

Although most of my work is self-generated, once a year or so I am given a commission. These are usually either portrait commissions or fashion productions. The series above was a cooperation with Austrian designer label ‘Superated’ and the City of Vienna. The production was one of many cultural activities sponsored by the Austrian government to coincide with the European Football Championship in 2008.

Having been impressed by the artwork of Andreas Pasqualini printed on Superated’s clothing, I suggested he paint a series of monochrome urban settings, which we use as locations. The idea was simple but effective, creating a kind of comic-book look.

Exposed! Anthony Gayton naked!

2009-11-06T04:41:00.000-08:00

Photographers are the trickiest people to photograph. Myself, I am ridiculously camera-shy, although I have no problem posing naked. To supplement my income while assisting in Paris, I modelled nude for life-drawing classes. Later in Vienna, I posed for my long-time boss, the world-renowned nude photographer Andreas H. Bitesnich. The pictures above, published in Stern and Männer Aktuell, were shot on two rare quiet afternoons in the late 90’s. Several other images from these shoots also found their way into Andreas’s book ‘Polanude’, but no, none with my face showing. After all, I am shy.

Hotel de Dream

2009-11-05T09:46:00.001-08:00

The French-version pocket-book edition of Edmund White’s novel ‘Hotel de Dream’ has just been released, with ‘My Sunshine - Stephen at age seventeen’ as cover.

The story contains a ‘novel-within-in-a-novel’, about a young male prostitute, which White imagines author Stephen Crane writing and finally destroying shortly before his early death in 1900. I find this element of the book appealing, as the cover image, taken from my series ‘Ladslove’, is itself a recreation of the hidden or destroyed homoerotica made at the turn of the last century.

The novel (French translation!) is available to order on Amazon.fr.

What’s in a Kiss?

2009-11-05T09:43:00.001-08:00

I've spent most of this year working on stories based on the symbolism of the kiss; from the biblical betrayal kiss and the ‘disinterested’ kiss of resuscitation, to the all-important kiss of true love. To date, I have completed four of seven planned stories; ‘Jude’s Kiss’, ‘Le Baiser Interdit’ (both already online) and ‘Behold The Man’ and ‘Mid Life Crisis’ (which will form part of the exhibition at MiTO Gallery in Barcelona). I am currently working on ‘The Banker’, told in the form of a bawdy limerick and a single, large-scale image.

Most of these stories contain images shot either partly or wholly with dolls. There are two main reasons for this. The first is financial - I had developed a series of story-lines involving several specific European locations and time periods. This would have been vastly time-consuming and expensive to photograph for real. The second reason is the creative freedom. The many images involving sexual contact in ‘Jude’s Kiss’ and ‘Le Baiser Interdit’ would have been practically impossible, if not vaguely illegal, to have photographed with live models. I had already shot the single doll image ‘Man Action’ for the ‘Child’s Play’ story in 2007, and this was the motivation behind producing an entire doll story. The greatest challenge was the set design/construction for ‘Jude’s Kiss’, as I had to build each set by hand. This was extremely painstaking work, but did allow me total control of the look and mood of each image.

As I mention on my website, these characters are entirely fictitious and do not resemble any figures living, dead or otherwise.

Behold The Man! Exhibition

2009-10-20T09:02:00.000-07:00

My third major solo exhibition has finally been planned with MiTO Gallery in Barcelona. Opening on the evening of 19th November (the show runs through to mid-Jan 2010) the exhibition will be a ‘manly’ feast of large-scale prints. Most of my work is designed to be seen big, and however wonderful the internet can be, it simply can not compare to a real print on the wall. We have selected almost thirty works from the last two years, the centerpiece being ‘The Harem’ which will be exhibited for the first time.

So, for anyone passing through Barcelona this autumn/winter, be prepared for the BIG experience at MiTO Gallery:

BEHOLD THE MAN! MiTO Gallery, Rosselló 193, 08036 Barcelona, Spain.

www.mitobcn.com

Opening times: Tues-Fri: 10am - 2pm / 5pm - 8.30pm. Sat: 10am - 2pm

www.anthonygayton.com

Virtually Yours

2009-10-19T06:13:00.000-07:00

Virtually Yours. A Prayer For The Web Generation (with apologies to Shakespeare)

I have of late become quite sad,

Spurn every form of exercise.

How sterile, life without a lad

With fire in his eyes.

What piece of work is Internet!

How noble, full of reason.

Facilitating admirably

Desirable liaisons:

An angel with its wings unfurled,

A god who is well-read,

The greatest beauty in the world,

An animal in bed.

And yet, to me, these paragons

On inspection fall to dust.

They delight me not, these sons

Of fantasy and lust.

What angel? He’s a filthy slut

Who’s slept with half the town.

The heavenly intellectual charmed

With words not quite his own.

The Beauty’s from a magazine;

The beast will not admit.

The dirty-talker disappears

When it comes down to it.

O! Brave New Generation

Who ne’er composed a letter.

Clever still, your fingertips

Do search for something better,

Than the lad of yesterday

Whose likeness left you vexed

Or candidates along the way

Abandoned after sex.

(Considering the time you’d waste

Investing in one man,

You sleep with forty-nine in haste

Yet cannot find ‘the One’).

Thwarted by criteria

Of looks and cocks and age,

How should one real person fare

When all the world’s your stage?

I have of late become quite sad,

Spurn every form of exercise.

How lonely, life without a lad

With fire in his eyes.

The Angelus - A New Chapter

2009-10-19T06:05:00.000-07:00

When my book ‘Sinners & Saints’ was released in 2005, it marked a huge turning point in the direction of my work. Instead of writing a classic biography, I decided to write a short story, partly based on fact, which added a more private element to the mythology of the book.

I hadn’t written anything before this since my university degree project ‘The Angelus’ in 1990 and managed to unearth the original Angelus text (it had luckily escaped my personal-history vandalism of the late 90’s). Lillian, the heroine, creates the ‘perfect’ man, an angel, out of thin air and Victorian hypocrisy. Divided into elemental chapters, each distinctly connected to the seasons, the story took me just over a year to complete, shooting in 2005, partly in England & Wales and partly in Austria. (Of course, I did shoot ‘The Angelus’ in 1990, experimenting with darkroom techniques, but later destroyed most of it. Above are a few of the surviving examples compared with those from 2005.)

The success of ‘The Angelus’ (re-worked) was the encouragement I needed to continue producing illustrated stories, and to date I have written eight short stories and poems, two of which, ‘Falling Awake’ (a ghost love story) and ‘Jude’s Kiss’ (doomed calf-love) can be read in their entirety on my website. Although the writing itself is an exciting process, the main advantage is the creative license a written text gives me as a photographer - the images themselves are freed from any purely narrative constraints.

As with the images, the text is by necessity rather small on the website. I am currently working on my second book, a large-format fairytale book for grown-ups, in which the written stories can finally be seen/read, and hopefully enjoyed, without the aid of a magnify glass.

Art! Fashion! Pornography!

2009-10-18T07:03:00.000-07:00

From the campy, ridiculously-hung Sicilians of Von Gloedon circa 1900, the generous generations of American lads (50’s oiled beefcake, 60’s college jocks, those white-socked 80’s boys in tiny shorts) to the internet’s very own Eastern-European cottage industries, porn has always had an appeal to me. The images above are from three of my series, published in the French magazine PREF. Masked as fashion editorials, they are homages to my favourite porn genres. The importance of the clothing is not in the design(er), but the fetishism that it represents; the sexual power of the slip or the locker room. Here full nudity becomes irrelevant, an anti-climax even, like a horror film when you finally see the villain. This is the realm of fantasy and longing.

Oh, welcome most, most welcome to my world!

2009-10-18T05:35:00.000-07:00

Who am I? How do I look? How do I work? For whom do I work? Why do I work? It is the intention of this blog to answer some of these questions. The above picture, for example, is indeed a self-portrait, but not the one most people seem to assume. I am not the strangely handsome naked young man, but the old bald dead one served up on a plate. If you understand this, it already goes some way to explaining myself and my work.

I am not a photo-purist. My work is less about the essence of what a photograph is, than discovering what it can be. My inspiration comes from such diverse sources as painting, storytelling, the scientific and domestic applications of photography and porn. The resulting pictures assume the reality of a film or a fairytale. What you are asked to believe in is not the veracity of the photograph but the truth of the image. And although this all sounds quite pompous, I actually love having fun with photography (even dabbling in the dizzy depths of fashion), working with new models, creating new images and mixing my media along with my mythology.

I will be regularly posting new work, publications, exhibitions, as well as more background information on myself and my work. However, my website remains the one virtual source to view all my work.

Not another dreaded backstage movie?

2009-10-14T08:34:00.000-07:00

Indeed. Cain & Abel with the wonderful Holzinger Twins. This one at least has the saving graces of being short and shot on old Super-8 film, and is one of only three shoots I ever filmed. The other two (’Heavenly Virtue’ and ‘Icarus’) can be seen on youtube. The stylist here (actually in all three videos) is Michael Stock, good friend for over ten years and an absolute genius with hair.

Orpheus

2009-10-14T07:45:00.000-07:00

Though mostly known for his lyre, Orpheus is occasionally seen in traditional painting playing a violin. This image is the spontaneous product of my meeting with Austrian violinist (and now model with www.tempomodels.com) Matteo Haitzmann.

Why are your pictures so, well, er.....gay?

2009-10-14T07:17:00.001-07:00

Actually they’re not. Well, not exclusively. They deal with (unrequited) love, desire, beauty, dreams, and an ultimate belief in wonderful, twisted, hopeless romanticism. Oh yes, and there’s a lot of death. All of which has been experienced by anyone to some degree, even death in the contemplative sense. In almost every story and series you could replace a man with a woman and the message would be the same. “Then why always men?” the critics ask, “Women are so much more commercial, accessible” etc. The answer is simple: because I can.

Last chance at the Kunsthalle Wien

2009-10-14T05:37:00.001-07:00

The ‘Portrait: Photography as Stage’ exhibition at the Kunsthalle (Museumsquartier, Vienna, Austria), which has been running since July, will finally be closing on the 18th of October. The exhibition, curated by Peter Weiermair, is a fascinating look at (often extremely opposing) attitudes to portraiture over the last thirty years, and boasts an impressive list of contributing photographers, such as Robert Mapplethorpe, Nan Goldin, Greg Gorman, Sally Mann, Wolfgang Tillmans and Anton Corbijn.

At the very end of the exhibition is my ‘Ladslove’ series of five (fictitious) sexual conquests.

These, and many other wonderful works, can still briefly be seen at the Kunsthalle. For anyone totally impressed (or totally too late), a beautiful catalogue has been printed in conjunction with the exhibition and is available in the museum shop.

Anthony Gayton = Hot n Tan n Gay, Yo!

2009-10-14T05:27:00.000-07:00

No. As much as I could wish it at times, Anthony Gayton is neither anagram, pseudonym, nor acronym for some gay artistic collective. I was baptized Anthony John Gayton in Barnstaple, England in 1968, and have been suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous laughter ever since. At the time I began publishing my work, I did briefly consider opting for an ‘artist’ name. I toyed with ‘Anthony Gordon’ for a while, as an homage to Gordon Anthony, the 30’s ballet and theatre photographer, but then discovered that there is already a photographer called Anthony Gordon. The second alternative was jump in at the deep end and dispense with the ‘ton’, as a reference to the obvious, but also to Barnstaple’s own famous 18th Century playwright, wit and poet, John Gay. Ironically the final decision to keep my own name was to prevent any confusion, and I have consequently been suspected of using a pseudonym ever since.