Tits, arse and squashed stereotypes: Beryl Cook meets Tom of Finland

At Studio Voltaire, a hall resembling a protestant church is hosting two artists once dubbed ‘erotic hobbyists’. Beryl Cook’s (1926-2008) images of larger-than-life women laughing, drinking and frequenting strip clubs captured a national imagination – reproductions of her work became a staple in living rooms, pubs and hotels across the country. Equally dedicated to the depiction of pleasure is Tom of Finland (1920-1991), who transformed his youthful desires for local lumberjacks and farmers into an imaginative universe filled with figures embodying homosexual, machismo ideals. In this show, Studio Voltaire is addressing a gap in institutional representation of popular art. By affording us a glimpse of erotic world-building – hedonistic and pleasure-seeking – ‘Beryl Cook/ Tom of Finland’ is not your usual historical exhibition.

It’s an unusual pairing; these artists come from very different cultural and sexual standpoints. Finland rarely, if ever, represented women. In his autonomous and unpublished work, women invariably play the unenviable role of sour moralists or ignorant housewives, while Cook relished in unabashed and raucous female protagonists (her characters are reminiscent of the validating and important work done by the @loveofhuns Instagram account). Works like Ivor Dickie (1981), a female-commissioned piece depicting a male stripper giving ladies a glimpse of his crown jewels, are postcard favourites. Joe Scotland, director of Voltaire, considers their similarities more important than their differences: “They both prioritised pleasure in their works and denied any sense of shame”. Indeed, tits and arse are celebrated with equal aplomb.

Walking through ‘Beryl Cook/ Tom of Finland’, it becomes clear that Cook was an astute cultural commentator. Instead of satirising her communities, as seen in the work of William Hogarth and James Gilray, Cook observed. A favourable comparison is L.S Lowry; both artists were categorised as naive painters in their lifetime, infamous for their distinctive method of portraying the human form – as Lowry stated in a 1966 interview, “My paintings seemed to get more response in the places where people knew the subjects I was painting”, Scotland notes, “Cook documented those around her, particularly working-class women, and people saw themselves represented in her work”. While Lowry’s popularity drew from his crowd scenes of ‘matchstick men’, Cook’s trademark is notably fuller, a rotund figure recalling Stanley Spencer and Fernando Botero. Curved, gigantic buttocks are larger than life and a little fetishistic – dominating the canvas and, in turn, the viewer.

Hyperrealism has often been derided as kitsch, gauche or unimaginative. In fact, it easily lends itself to fantasy – used in pornographic illustration and political propaganda alike. Initially inspired by porn magazines and soviet posters, Tom of Finland honed his chiselled protagonist (see The Complete Adventures of Kake), across his 60-year career. The depiction of virile men with near-perfect torsos, slim waists and consistently larger-than-average cocks carried symbolic importance to the artist. Finland’s goal was to provide positive, hyper-masculine images for the gay community, combatting the stereotype of the sissyish, prancing homosexual popular in his youth. As Scotland adds, “it was quite transgressive to represent gay men so machismo, and so freely”. The exaggerated human proportions of both artists make an interesting comparison: “Considering their distinct ways of hyper-realising the body, it felt instinctive to pair Cook’s work with Tom of Finland.”

The exhibition invites us to observe subcultures once hidden from sight. The city of Plymouth, where Cook lived and worked for 40 years, is a favourite subject – its working class and military history form a subtext for leisure scenes such as The Lockyer Tavern (1974), one of Cook’s most recognised works, depicting the ‘back bar’ – a well-known queer hangout. Tom of Finland also depicts real-life cruising spots – ports and roadsides become the backdrop for casual sex and secret liaisons. While Cook’s work is less pornographic, she had a keen eye for representing the illicit in her community. ‘Beryl Cook/ Tom of Finland’ presents an erotic topography of queer pleasure.

This show is a lot of fun. It is not your usual, sombre representation of two artists’ careers. It is thoroughly libidinal; sex is present in the extreme. The show is, in some sense, a turn-on. As Tom of Finland once said, “If I don’t have an erection while drawing, I know it’s no good.” May the re-evaluation of smut by British institutions continue.