By Allison Jones//
Mia’s collection goes far beyond what you see in the galleries—at any given time, only a small percentage can be shown on the walls. Of the pieces in storage, the majority are prints and drawings, but these works don’t languish behind the scenes: everyone is welcome to make an appointment to view up to fifteen prints and drawings in the Herschel V. Jones Print Study Room. Whatever you’d like to see, whenever you’d like to see it. Think of it as curating your very own special exhibition.
My own visit to the print study room began with a curiosity about queer themes in the collection. What insights might emerge from works where queer people were in control of the narrative? What I found was that when 2SLGBTQIA+ artists create images of themselves and others it produces a wide emotional range: these works are funny, heartbreaking, poignant, glamorous, and pensive—sometimes all at once.
Check out these five highlights of queer portraiture in Mia’s collection. Then see them in person, along with other examples, in the print study room during the Meet at Mia: Pride event on June 27.
Dudley Huppler (American, 1917–1988), Nude Banana on Sheraton-Style Sofa, 1981, graphite and colored pencil on paper. Gift of Thea Tenenbaum-Malferrari, 2017.157.8
In this cheeky drawing, Dudley Huppler gives a humble banana the star treatment. Huppler’s campy take on portraiture evokes both classical nudes and Andy Warhol’s iconic image of a banana, with a reference to specific neoclassical furniture to boot. (Don’t tell Huppler I made that comparison—he was at times notoriously unimpressed by Warhol). Beyond the whimsical veneer of this piece, it can be read as an earnest depiction of vulnerability: a fruit that has shed its protective layer to reveal its soft insides. The art, like its subject, contains layers.
Albrecht Dürer (German, 1471–1528), The Men’s Bath, c. 1496–1497, woodcut. Bequest of Herschel V. Jones, P68.161
Master printmaker Albrecht Dürer depicts a scene of homosocial revelry in this 1496 etching. Note the artist himself leaning against a wooden pillar with a well-placed faucet, gazing at two other versions of himself at younger ages. Although these spaces may have had a different connotation in Dürer’s time, the image evokes a comparison to modern bathhouses as a liminal space for gay relationships.
Karl Priebe (American, 1914–1976), Saint Sebastian, 1941, casein on illustration board. Gift of Thea Tenenbaum-Malferrari, 2017.157.9
Saint Sebastian has long been a favorite subject for homoerotic explorations of the male form. This 1941 depiction from Karl Preibe strikes a different tone—he places the saint alone in a desolate landscape. This young Sebastian is not bound by visible ropes, and almost appears to be merging with the tree behind him. His eyes are obscured, adding to the mysterious and uneasy tone of this work. Viewers may resonate with the pain and isolation that can be a dark side of the queer experience.
Priebe was a white artist from Wisconsin, known for his dreamlike portraits of Black Americans in his community. In contrast to the flat, stereotypical depictions of Black people that were common at the time, Priebe’s portraits are alive, compassionate, and deeply human. This piece can be read as an empathetic parallel between the suffering of Saint Sebastian and racist violence against Black men.
This piece will be one of three takes on Saint Sebastian on view during Meet at Mia.
Martine Gutierrez (American, born 1989) co-published by Martine Gutierrez and the Ryan Lee Gallery, New York, Indigenous Woman, 2018, color offset lithography on coated paper; bound volume. Gift of the artist and Ryan Lee Gallery, New York, 2020.33
Indigenous Woman is a fully self-produced glossy magazine by Martine Gutierrez. As the sole model depicted throughout the publication, the artist dons many different personae. Her use of clever puns and everyday objects as couture poke fun at the editorial fashion world while also creating a genuinely glamorous spread. A monumental work of trans self-determination.
“What it took to create Indigenous Woman has been part of my practice for a long time: making something seem effortless, bigger, and more glamorous than what it actually is,” Gutierrez says. “It was also a question of ‘Who is the audience? Who are my advertisers?’ I was making every decision because I was the stylist, the makeup artist, the model. I am the client. That kind of autonomy is something that I had never found in the real world.”
Hollis Sigler (American, 1948–2001), She Was Tired of Filling Her Heart with Hopeless Dreams, 1982, color lithograph, screenprint, and collage (gold-leaf Japanese paper) with color-printed mat and hand-painted frame. Vermillion Archival Collection, the John R. Van Derlip Fund, P.92.24
In this unusual portrait, Hollis Sigler turns her gaze inward. This piece is one of an extensive series of interiors, nearly devoid of human figures, that represent complex emotional states.
Sigler was a pioneer of feminist art in the 1970s and ’80s, as well as an out lesbian. Throughout her career, she trained an unrelenting focus on the internal lives of women. In an art world in which women were overwhelmingly expected to be the subjects rather than the creators of art, Sigler’s gaze is a breath of fresh air. The classical sculpture that serves as a lamp base is perhaps a nod to expectations that women in art exist only as idealized bodies. Sigler’s art brings women’s varied experiences and interiority to the surface in defiance of those norms.
This piece is best viewed in person—the lush textures really shine, including on the unique color-printed mat.
Join us in the print study room on June 27 to celebrate the fullness and complexity of queer art and artists. If you’re inspired to plumb the depths of Mia’s collection, set up your own print study appointment by emailing Lori Williamson, supervisor of the Herschel V. Jones Print Study Room, at lwilliamson@artsmia.org.