"Photographers photograph their passions, what they are attracted to... they photograph a certain type. Robert is attracted to flowers so he photographs flowers a lot, he is attracted to black men so he photographs them a lot" - Ken Moody
Robert Mapplethorpe is also attracted to men's cocks - and he photographs them a lot too. That's what Ken Moody (presumably not the former Grimsby Town full-back) forgot to mention. Back in 2017 I visited, and wrote about, a Mapplethorpe exhibition (curated by Juergen Teller to celebrate what would have been Mapplethorpe's seventieth birthday - he died in 1989 aged 42) and the opening picture was of man with an impressively large erection.
It wasn't the 'fruitiest' picture on show and nor was it the most eye watering. That show was at the Alison Jacques Gallery on Berners Street. This one, Subject Object Image, was at the larger Alison Jacques Gallery on Cork Street. But both had cocks in them and those cocks could not be ignored.
There was no leaflet to pick up at the door and none of the photos had names next to them so I've not been able to name, or age, them. Never mind. Sometimes you can read too much about art and not spend enough time looking at it. Though there were some images I was glad not to spend too long over.
The blue lines, by the way, and the reflections of the gallery's lights (and, sometimes, even a reflection of me) are how I saw the photos. I guess I could, if I could be bothered, edit them out but I'm trying to write about art (and photography) as I see it and now it it is intended to be seen. The presentation of an artist's work can sometimes be nearly as important as the work itself.
In fact, there's very little to go on at all if you want to know what inspired Mapplethorpe to make these images. There's a nice photo of a leaf, one of a chest, one of a back, one of a bum, and, oh yes - that train's never late, one of a cock. Poking out from the side to do duel, it seems, with a trident carrying devil. It could be perspective but either that penis is the size of a demon or that demon is the size of a penis.
Next up there's the body of a pregnant lady, a fishnet clad bum (gender indeterminate - Mapplethorpe was ahead of the game), a naked woman in a bathroom, a jug, a black man's back, and a black man putting his hands up in front of his face. Then there's a mirror with a metal grid in front of it. You can see my reflection (and you can see that I was wrapped up warm on a cold January day) but if you can interpret anything from the fact there was a mirror in the show please let me know. I didn't get it.
Truth be told, I didn't get much of it. Some kissing, a muscle man flexing, another dick, Andy Warhol, David Hockney, and, downstairs, some colour photographs. But I couldn't really work out what it was all about other than Ken Moody's assertion that Mapplethorpe took photos of things he's attracted to.
Which we all do I suppose (just today I took a photo of a fox, an Egyptian goose, an interesting skyscraper, and Tower Bridge - though no cocks - not even my own). Many years ago, on an Arena documentary, Mapplethorpe said "if you say too much, you lose some of the mystery that ends up being there". There are other, more fawning, valedictions you can read as you enter the gallery but none of them speak quite as loudly as Mapplethorpe's own words. Though if he thinks these images resist showing "too much" it'd be interesting, and possibly shocking, to see what he would consider to be "too much".
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