Customer Reviews

True Blood

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

As member of the BDSM society for a decade now, I find that I am quite liberal in my definitions of what art is. This however is one of those titles that, while I understand blood play and its appeal, seems to linger in that gray area. Gatewood is a brilliant photographer, but I seriously warn you: THIS IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH!!!! Plus, I feel that a small section should have been devoted to safety issues dealing w/ blood play; it is not for the amatuer BDSM'er....but rather one of the MOST extreme of "Extreme Play"s. If serious blood play is your thing, check this book out; if you are just curious...be warned.

I loved this book. I'd wanted to read it since I first heard mention of it in Carpe Noctem years earlier. I finally picked up a copy a couple weeks ago, and I love it. It's a very interesting look at the bloodplay scene, with some truly breathtaking photography (much of which is in full color, to warn the squeamish). David Aaron Clark has supplied very lush and meditative erotic text to supplement the photos, and together they create a sort of poetry beyond the "taboo" nature of the subject matter. It's a great book because it is both beautiful and decadent, and never as "shocking" as it is intensely, profoundly human. Another score for these talented artists.

I am a blood sports enthusiast and teacher, so I may not be the most objective, but this is a book of photos that grabbed my heart, my brain, and my crotch and yanked them all along for the ride.

The photography by Mr. Gatewood is extreme and beautiful. It truly is NOT a book for the squeamish nor the inexperienced, but is a wonderful companion to his other views of the far edges of the fringes of society.

I rate this book as top-notch, though I do warn you that the images are extreme, bloody, and occasionally seem violent. Believe it or not, though, almost all are photos of acts of love.

I believe the apparent shock value in this book generaly forces one to look the other way. However, at closer inspection, this proves to be a unique look into the art of a all together cloudy subject, for most, performance art at it's most dedicated- The beauty in brutal images. You cannot deny the truth of this book. It is a reflection into a realm many contimplate, but rarely acknowledged or anyilize. A visual glimpse into the comfort pain brings to some, and what brings nightmares to others. A book one must experience and accept. A rare book. One to hide in your closet before guests arrive!

This was not the book I thought I was purchasing by the same name, so I can't give a review of this book, not my kind of reading material. When I got this book in the mail, I was very disappointed. I had no problem returning it the folks at Bookmans were very responsive.

Some bring the issue of AIDS to the table when the mark appears easy and obvious. One might assume that any "blood letting" equals a silly disregard for risks and dangers involved. Take into consideration that ritual takes many forms and the reasons for them are as varied as the people involved, even when the reasons may not seem valid to someone else. The fact remains, this example of blood letting, tattoos, whatever, is less dangerous and executed with more saftey awareness and precaution than the average first date in America. It is easy to disarm an action that appears to have no acceptable reason behind it accept "attention". Consider, if nothing else, pathos. The repercussion of a violent and oftimes jaded society.To chalk it up to merely a ploy for attention, becomes dangerously close to sounding like a depraved school principal. Some of the people in this book ARE direct results of American ghettos and yes, federal prisons! Who needs to mention an entirely unrelated subject such as the Cambodia Killing fields? We live in a frightened and paralized society that insists on "saving it's self from it's self".(look where thats gotten us) This book, to me, speaks about choice, art, tragedy, adventure, sex, and yes, humor. Call it what YOU will. It is compelling and demands emotion and debate. The first time someone is exposed to the reality of death or brutality, has been known to state that it has an almost comical or simple reality to it. These images may have similar effect on some. It can be assured that these acts are real, and that is what makes it unique. Look past your nose and you may find an interesting portrait, perhaps a reflection, of a viseral society reacting to current sociological conditions- And some folks just having plain 'ol dirty fun. Whats it to ya? J Pieren.

This is a great review of pleasure from anothers perspective. I especially loved the preamble by Danielle Willis. I am drawn to her and her work. Scan the web for more and you wont be disappointed.

Charles Gatewood has made a name for himself in documenting so-called forbidden material. His photographs and video montages preoccupy themselves with subject matter that all seems to congress on the "fringes" of sexual behavior. You needn't be a rocket scientist to understand that our national attitude responds to the sight and subject of bodily fluids in a total state of panic. The advent of the AIDS epidemic as well as our own sense of self-preservation has compounded these fears to phobic proportions. Sexual awareness has become much less a matter of morality as it is a matter of survival. It is from this consensus that Gatewood and his subjects might draw their strategy in "True Blood", but I must admit that I am alotting too much credit in assuming such conclusions... and at the risk of making this project sound more interesting than it actually is. For one, Gatewood has always depended on his subject matter to rally an observer's curiosity. In this way he is drastically dissimilar to say, Robert Mapplethorp. Though both are perhaps equal in controversey for challenging the same social conventions, there is a difference. With Mapplethorp, the subject is brought to transcend its meaning in figuritive terms. The viewer's intuition is immeadiatly engaged to regard what one sees (textures, light/shadow, shape, perspective, dimention, etc.) The observer easily forgets that s/he is looking at a photograph of an uncircumsized, semi-erect penis when the mind is coaxed to regard it solely in terms of image, totally abscent of ASSOCIATIONS. Whereas the intitial thrust of Gatewood's work is contingent entirely on how easily the audience associates his subjects. In this respect, Gatewood's work assumes a personality more befitting a witness rather than a participant. In "True Blood" the photographer centers on blood-letting in the context of ritual in the S/M community. For the most part it depicts the deliberation of superficial injuries (via hypodermic needles fresh from their hermetic sealant, razor blades, barb-wire, etc.) by people donning rather ellaborate underwear under very CONTROLLED conditions. Some situations revolve around psuedo-vampirism (studio adience laughter) and occasional Satanic pretense. (More laughter.) Am I right in assuming that the audience is meant to regard these "deviants" as sexual dare-devils traversing the forbidden landscapes of sexual identity? If so, I see more actors than action. After all, one of the things that captivates our imagination about danger is that one is at the mercy of something one cannot predict or control. If the wound is superficial, the danger is falsified. Violence by its' very nature is incable of being put on a leash and domesticated at the behest of convenience. If you want to freak your parents out, this is a great book to have. Mom and Dad will have you in therapy in no time. Otherwise, skip it. There are certainly more CONVINCING transgressions to be seen in America's urban ghettos, federal prisons and Cambodia's killing fields than from a bunch of attention-starved clowns in shiny, black undergarments. Incidentally enough Gatewood had contributed to a collection of erotic fiction, essays and photographs titled, "Nerve - Literate Smut." There is a chapter on taboos that opens with a quote that reads thusly, "'I'm standing on a ponyskin rug in my first-ever pair of stiletto heels, trying to keep my balance while other partygoers jostle by. 'Isn't skinning a horse, like, a taboo?' says the guy I'm having a nonconversation with. '**** taboos - who needs 'em?' snorts a recent arrival, a heavily tattooed woman wearing a skull-and-crossbones nose ring and a t-shirt that says STILLBORN STILLWARM. 'Clearly, YOU do,' says the bald guy... it occurs to me that the bald guy has a point: if there were no taboos, this girl would have no schtick, no cause, no one but herself in the mirror to flip off every morning." (Page 81) This explains quite well what might be abscent from this book.