Given that he’s bringing the worlds of art and queer eroticism together for popular recurring events, it’s never a bad time to follow Patrick McNaughton to dandyland. [Cover photo: Kelly Grider]
Thotyssey: Hi Patrick, thanks for chatting! How is 2024 treating you so far?
Patrick McNaughton: It was a quite intense January, actually! I run a queer erotic art fair in Hell’s Kitchen called “dandyland,” and we’re having one coming up February 10th (Boxers HK, 2-8pm). But I’m also planning our first one out of town, in L.A. March 2nd at Precinct. Then on top of that, I’m producing a documentary about queer kink and fetish culture that I filmed a couple years ago. And to pay the bills, I do admin work for large scale events—mostly weddings and bar mitzvahs—and give erotic massages. So I would say 2024 is treating me pretty roughly so far. But it feels good.
We better just go right to the beginning: where’s your original hometown, and how did you begin as an artist?
I’m originally from Fresno, California. Home of the dancing raisins! Most of my early art was in ceramic sculpture, actually.
How and when did eroticism become a part of what you do… and how would you describe the sort of art you produce today?
Eroticism didn’t enter the picture artistically for me until college, once I felt more comfortable celebrating my attraction to men. I went to school for studio art—by then I had moved on from ceramics into photography and sculptural installation—and my senior thesis show “Skin” was my first big foray into creating work exclusively focused on nudity and eroticism. I was super proud of it, though it had an unexpectedly mixed reception from my mentors and peers. Nudity and sex in art—especially involving men—can be tricky because the discourse easily shifts from a piece’s conceptual value toward whether or not the mere act of displaying it is offensive. Plus, the straight male gaze dominates “fine” art because that’s who the sales market caters to; so I learned a long time ago that queer eroticism, though central to my practice, is a delicate subject requiring intense consideration to be successfully received, let alone respected.
As far as what I am producing today, I would say I’m in unusual territory. A lot of what I do now is promotion work for other peoples’ art, so most of the photography and installation stuff I’ve been creating have been more like “sketches” of concepts, rather than fully fleshed out pieces.
The queer kink documentary I am working on will be a pretty epic feat once I pull it off, but that’s a work in early progress with about 18 months to go before completion. We have the footage and a lot of fun ideas, but no money—so we haven’t been able to focus on it as intensely as we would like.
As for non-erotic practice, I’m also currently designing a major installation using fabric from broken umbrellas I’ve collected from the New York City streets since I moved here in 2006. I have hundreds of them in all sorts of crazy colors and patterns, and I’m really excited about the potential. But again, I don’t really have the money to make it happen, and don’t really have the time to find it!
What is the history of the dandyland events, and how would you describe what you might see there nowadays?
My flippant response to why I started dandyland is: “to give these lazy faggots some deadlines.” Of course, it’s much more complex in reality. When I originally moved to NYC in 2006, I had high aspirations of becoming a professional artist… but didn’t find much in the way of opportunity in the art community here for anyone new to the scene. The creative energy was mostly in a counter-culture that put a middle finger to profiting off your art, or the heavily-guarded establishment “fine art” gallery system—which at the time was only receptive to queer art that came from a place of unusually prolific practice, or some exploitably traumatic back story. I suppose not a whole lot has really changed with that, but dandyland is a way for me to create a space for artists to build a stronger identity, and to have the opportunity to engage with patrons directly. My hope is that it strengthens the queer community, promotes public discourse about the joys of sexuality, and allows artists an opportunity to see what is more or less appealing about their work from a marketing perspective.
We have had nine dandylands since we started in October 2022. If you come check it out, it’s an incredibly fun time. there’s a theme to dress to for each event (Feb 10th theme is “Pink Party,” so wear pink!) and most of the patrons, all of the artists–especially Roy, Michael, and I–get really into being creative, absurd, and slutty with our looks. Beyond that, there’s just so much to see and take home! We usually have around 30 artists with tables, who sell anything from erotic original art and prints, to hand-made clothing, candles, jewelry, and more. Pretty much everything is super queer and erotic, so for people like me, it’s definitely the most fun thing to do on a Saturday afternoon in NYC.
There’s a solid group of artists slated to sell at this one, and we have a couple erotic entertainment surprises in the works. Ultimately it’s a kick-ass, sexy good time, admission is free, and I’ll be there shaking my hairy tits and peddling smut, so there’s really no reason not to come!
What else is coming up for you?
On the calendar we have a ton of pop-ups featuring art and books from the website, and of course more dandyland art fairs. I’m incredibly excited about Saturday, March 2nd at Precinct in Downtown LA (2-8pm), because it will be my first time working with a whole new wealth of talent. But if you visit the website or follow us on Instagram, you can see where else we will be popping up, including P-Town Bear Week, Palm Springs, Fire Island, Rehoboth, and here in NYC. Plus I’ll just be chugging away on the kink documentary. If you want to see the teaser, or help us produce the film, visit Ride!
Have great shows! Let’s end with a discussion of: how vital is it to find ways for art and eroticism to be intertwined these days, when so much “content” in both those worlds has arguably become rote and oversimplified?
Dandyland is a celebration of queer joy in eroticism, and the imagery is rarely presented without self-awareness. I think it’s more important than ever to have open conversations about all of this, even at the risk of being accused of overindulgence. Every queer person has had to answer in some way to the accusation that we are too focused on sex, but to me it’s always seemed obvious: if you marginalize a group of people for their sexuality, they’re likely to spend a lot of time reflecting on it, hating themselves for it, experimenting with it, finding connection through it, and hopefully creating engaging art about it.
I think what you’re talking about has to do with the way sexuality is commercialized and marketed in mass culture—a process that often involves flattening it out for a larger consumer audience. Dandyland is trying to do something different from that model. This event promotes the idea that our sexuality is for ourselves… and that the confusion, compulsion, jealousy, anger, and fear we feel can actually be beautiful, and can be a connective part of the queer experience.
Well said and well done! Thanks, Patrick!
Check Thotyssey’s calendar for Patrick McNaughton’s upcoming appearances, and follow him on Facebook and Instagram. Also, follow Dandyland on Instagram, Twitter and the official website.
Thotyssey 