Henry Scott Tuke’s Nudes and the Politics of Masculinity
Written by Nicolas Poblete
Edited by Madeleine mitchell
The nude as a form of visual art carries inherent political power that is expressed differently and consistently across all cultures. From the Ancient Greek sculptures of Praxiteles to the French nudes of Renoir, this form of depiction has always been uniquely subversive both for the general public and art critics. Despite the recent normalization of female nudes emanating from art’s historic bias towards male viewership, representations of the nude male body remain upsetting to many. Consequently, the politics of masculinity have blurred the discourse regarding any representations of the nude male body. English painter Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929) dedicated most of his life to the creation of such works; focusing on adolescent subjects, Tuke’s work has been endlessly politicized either as abusive or as a statement on masculinity predating the LGBTQ+ movement. However, based on the visual evidence and some key aspects of his life, I would argue that Tuke was purposefully trying to distance himself from politics in his work. In fact, it is his shift away from provocation which made his male nudes so distressing in normalizing a new flexible form of masculinity and a renewed model of male beauty that defies traditional masculinity. By observing his aesthetic philosophy, his queer identity, and his legacy, I will explore what Tuke’s nude paintings imply about masculinity and homoeroticism.
Figure 1: Artist unknown, Barberini Faun, 200 BCE, Marble Statue, Glyptothek, Munich.
Preliminarily, an appreciation of Tuke’s brilliance requires a historical contextualization of the nude as an art form. Art historian Kenneth Clark defines the nude as a depiction of the “body re-formed”: one that is “balanced, prosperous, and confident” (Clark, 3). Hellenistic works like the Barberini Faun (Fig. 1) that date back to 200 BCE corroborate this perception of the nude. With a desire for sensual pleasures, Bacchus is portrayed as a manly figure of beauty mythologized by his godly stature (Westheimer, 11). Despite his dominant allure, Bacchus is carelessly exposed and vulnerable in his positioning. The male nude revival of the Renaissance came with depictions that lacked any such sense of vulnerability (MacKinnon, 56). The humanist Christian male nude seems to equate naturalistic beauty with vulnerability; “in its striving after hardness, […] the stereotyped male body strives to eliminate the possibility of desire for it” in an effort to reinforce his dominance and avoid sexual objectification (MacKinnon, 56). In the case of Michelangelo’s David (Fig. 2, 1501-1504), the young, victorious, and proud shepherd exudes a “rock-like strength and poignant beauty” (Paolucci, 17). While this is the figure of a man, his anatomical perfection deifies him. Such Renaissance sculptures often centered on mythological subjects giving a socio-political justification to their creation (Seymour, 84). It seems that unjustified depictions of the ordinary man would not be accepted. This lead to a cultural idolization of the absurdly virile male form where beauty was contingent on masculine dominance. Consequently, there is an ongoing cultural view of “unjustified” nudity as deviant (MacKinnon, 66). By the 19th century, the nude had changed. Its usual subject became, modest, defenseless, innocent, and huddled: the nude became naked and strictly female (Clark, 3). This internalized standard lead any deviant work to be seen as dangerous. This peculiar artistic context predates Tuke’s innovative approach to the nude.
Figure 2: Michelangelo, David, 1501-04, marble, height approximately 14’, Galleria dell’Accademia, Florence.
The exploration of Tuke’s art requires the study of his personal life. Born into a loving English Quaker family of means, Henry Scott Tuke was raised in Falmouth, Cornwall (Dinn, 11). From early childhood, his father encouraged him to paint; at the age of 17, Tuke was enrolled in London’s Slade School of Art where he got a scholarship to resume his education in Italy (Dinn, 13). Thus, Tuke’s familial environment was one of approval, privilege, and love. The young painter trained in Italy for three years where his love for naturalism originated. He regarded this time as some of his most artistically formative; in a letter, he defines the tender coloration of the Italian twilight as “unlike anything [he] ever saw in England” (Dinn, 17). The “blue and festive Mediterranean” village of Pietra Santra also ignited his passion for boats and the coastal lifestyle as well as his interest in the male body as he recalls observing “men loading ships” (Dinn, 17).
Figure 3: Henry Scott Tuke, Italian Boy on the Beach near Forte del Marmi, 1881. Oil Paint. Collection Michael Colloway and David Falconer.
In 1881, Tuke painted his first nude: Italian Boy on the Beach near Forte del Marmi (Fig. 3) (Dinn, 20). In this prototype of Tuke’s later works, the scene is dripping in light, giving a pastel hue to the grass and titular subject’s skin. The lack of facial features shows Tuke’s focus on texture and color while the sketchy brushwork indicates a strong impressionist influence. The Italian boy leans on the wall behind him; his arched right leg makes him limper and puts emphasis on his bum which separates him from the typical erect male body. By centering this work on a nameless boy who is visually deprived of any sense of individuality in a position that opposes the traditional erected male, Tuke reimagines masculinity as it is portrayed in the male nude. However, when talking about this work, Tuke did not emphasize its subversive aspect; this was an “exercise” of naturalism aiming to authentically show the male body in its purest form (Dinn, 20). His preoccupation was one of truthfulness rather than one of provocation; in this sense, the upset that this work might have generated serves as a testament to the inaccuracy of the canonical male nude.
When he moved to Paris to continue his education, Tuke fell in love with plein air painting which he discovered through fellow painter John Singer Sargent (Dinn, 24). Both were infatuated with the idea of male nudes in harmony with purely natural spaces. They wanted “gamins” models as they were not yet too corrupted by the gender norms of adulthood to reflect nature’s untainted beauty (Dinn, 25). Always justifying his art through beauty, Tuke writes to his sister: “I have found a very beautiful spot, a boy sits asleep in an apple tree, in shadow, relieved by the village and sea in bright sunlight seen through the branches.” (Dinn, 25). This illustrates Tuke’s aesthetic philosophy of art that punctuates the visual and sensual qualities of art in complete “devotion to beauty in whatever is attractive in the world around us” over practical, moral or narrative considerations. (Johnson, 11). This art-for-art’s-sake approach would quickly become part of his identity as it acquainted him to artists like Oscar Wilde as he went back to London; the Aesthetic movement and the Uranian circle, a group of artists who considered themselves queer, quickly became synonymous making homoeroticism a major part of their art (Hatt, 1). Consequently, any artist associated with this movement was perceived as a threat to Victorian Moralism in their conception of masculinity.
The Uranian circle wanted to “contemporize what was considered to be a lost Hellenic tradition of man-manly love” (Kim, 39). However, whereas Wilde’s work was radically reactionary to Victorian politics, Tuke’s is more ambiguous in terms of its message; his passion for the Hellenic pre-Christian conception of beauty became his sole artistic justification (Hatt, 13; Kim, 40). His effort was not one of critique but one of revitalization not unlike fellow Uranian writer E. M. Foster; while this appears to mark a separation from politics, I would argue that it has rendered his art even more politically upsetting in the long run. Indeed, the Aesthetic philosophy might not look threatening but one must not omit that it is fundamentally a reactionary movement in “challenge to more traditional and conventional [cultural] ideas” (Johnson, 11). While Aesthetic art might not be intended as provocative by the artist, it is fundamental to read it through the ways it challenges the status quo in order to understand it; in the case of Tuke, his gentle intent certainly does not mirror the oppressive nature of his art in the Victorian context.
Figure 4: Henry Scott Tuke, August Blue, 1893. Oil Paint, Tate Gallery, London.
In 1883, Tuke moved back to Cornwall where he found the same coastal life he embraced in Italy (Dinn, 52). This period came with several depictions of labor centering on young male subjects on boats (Dinn, 41). He made several friends during this decade who would become subjects for his paintings (Dinn, 45-61). This ten-year period culminates in Tuke’s most towering work yet: August Blue (Fig. 4, 1893). August Blue embodies everything Tuke was building up to in terms of visual style and artistic philosophy. This elementary work observes four boys playing on a modest wooden boat; a clothed boy is in the water while the other three stand on the boat gazing at each other and completely nude. Formally speaking, the delicate color palette is warmly soothing. The pastel hues of gold and blue, the minimal contrast, and the intimately distant perspective are all characteristics that become vital to Tuke’s visual presentation. The luminous qualities of oil paint in combination with the fluid brushwork makes the scene feel lively, but the precise attention to detail still manages to give it a photographic realism that contrasts with Tuke’s early works. Each formal element of the painting reinforces the envisioned tenderness of its scene. August Blue’s pleasing triangular placement of the subjects gives the tableau an impression of harmony which reflects this time of leisure. The gamins have ample space in the composition, giving them literal freedom of movement. Tuke’s perspective is close enough to make the viewer feel connected but distant enough to make his subjects seem unrestrained and intimate in their space. He adopts the gaze of an observer who exerts no power over his subject. In parallel, it is crucial to note that the boys are in the middle of an activity and, thus, they are not posing nor are they acknowledging the viewer. Tuke’s approach detaches itself from the nude which exists only around its main subject’s nudity; he opts for a non-provocative contemplative gaze where the sexual element is only implied (Kim, 41). This observation style does not exert any form of power or dominance over the subjects, implying that its purpose is not political; similarly, it is distant enough so as to invite the viewer to consider the work passively.. Tuke would have been aware of the menacing quality of his paintings, but it is through these visual stylistic choices that he avoids direct affront.
In line with Aestheticism, the work presents the beauty of the moment as its main substance. The quiet Cornish seaside was a perfect space for the art he intended as it allowed his models to be truly undisturbed (Kim, 39). Rather than creating the impression of the fleeting moment as many other Impressionists did, Tuke captured it authentically in the vein of the photographer. His local models were painted in the comfort of their actual daily activities (Kim, 40). The most notable actor in the scene is the clothed boy who tries to help his friend in the water getting on the boat; this fundamentally makes this work a depiction of caretaking and companionship. The removal of clothes is framed as liberating, evoking the Hellenistic male nude. Tuke paints the traditionally emasculated male subject with an alluring insouciance that rivals Bacchus himself. The Ancient Greek influence is glaring when observing the lyrical gestures of the subjects; “They are all curved, sometimes impossibly curved, and so nonchalant, hence their ageless ambiguity. As if they're daring you to desire them.” (Ivory, 53). This demonstrates both his rejection of the historical conception of male beauty as strictly virile as well as an idolization of the nude male body consistent with Hellenic tradition. Thus, with his contemplative perspective and a Hellenistic influence, Tuke’s nude merges sensationalism and objectivity.
Figure 5: Gustave Caillebotte, Man at is Bath, 1884. Oil Paint, Private Collection.
This work is very different from overtly political works like Caillebotte’s Man at His Bath (Fig. 5, 1884) which simultaneously objectifies and emancipates his titular subject using every formal and stylistic means (Garb, 26). In this work, the subject is enclosed, powerless, and assertively naked (Garb, 25). Indeed, this work by Caillebotte is strictly political in purpose as it is reactionary to the historic misconception about gender norms; Caillebotte’s aim is not to create a more truthful male nude, it serves as a critical deconstruction of the male nude (Garb, 26). Man at his Bath and many works by Tuke assert a similar truth about the fragility of “masculinity”, but Tuke’s passive approach complicates his message (Garb, 26). While Caillebotte destroys the traditional notion of masculinity, Tuke shows a more truthful and nuanced form of it. Finally, a rare aspect of Tuke’s nudes is the fact that they almost exclusively contain multiple subjects. This creates a unique relationship between the painter and his subjects; while painters like Renoir produced intimate nudes that prioritized the relationship between the viewer and the subject, Tuke emphasizes the relationship between the subjects within his works (Cahn, 10). This particularity makes it hard to perceive Tuke’s gaze as one that glorifies objectification, abuse, or certainly pedophilia, as some of his most adamant critics have argued.
Figure 6: Henry Scott Tuke, The Coming of Day, 1901. Oil Paint, Present Whereabouts Unknown.
The theme of masculinity is the most prominent in Tuke’s oeuvre; however, the meaning it holds for Tuke is quite enigmatic. The innovations of his masculine depictions emanates from his fusion of several primordial influences. Indeed, Tuke pursues the authenticity of the Realist movement, the transient world of the Impressionists, and the erotic freedom of the Greeks. This artistic blend led to art that sought to revitalize Greek ideals of beauty in ordinary settings and ordinary people (Kim, 39). Dinn writes that “Tuke believed in a form of deism, a worship of the beauty and perfection of youthful nakedness, drenched in sunlight in the glory of its natural setting.” (Dinn, 80). The Coming of Day (Fig. 6, 1901) is one of Tuke’s most dreamlike representations of male beauty. A young nude boy outstretches his arms with his eyes closed as the rising sun forms a halo around his head; this is a quasi-spiritual depiction of natural worship (Dinn, 77). Four boys are still sleeping on the ground as their flesh embraces the environment. The five subjects resemble flowers through their blossoming bodies: the more nude, the more open. This notably theatrical work serves to the mythologizing of the ordinary subject which is rendered threatening through its natural realism. Indeed, Tuke’s style is one that always remains realistic enough for his work to feel concrete and possibly more upsetting as a result. Several of these patterns also appear in Cupid and Sea Nymphs (Fig. 7, 1899); through the title, Tuke directly links his nude subjects with Greek Mythology. Again, he creates a fabled view of reality as the subjects seem to live in a space where nudity is trivial and pure. However, this painting breaks the boundary between reality and the dreamlike Hellenic world.
In the same vein, Ruby, Gold, and Malachite (Fig. 8, 1902) achieves a similarly ambiguous sense of reality. As in August Blue, there is compositional care to the staging of the subjects but the main emphasis seems to be on the moment as a worthy subject in itself. The title of the work presents its three predominant colors while simultaneously referring to its subjects as luxurious jewels (Dinn, 81). Along with August Blue, this is his second of many works titled after its predominant colors; I perceive this to be Tuke’s way of rejecting an intellectual reading of his works in line with the Aesthetic movement (Dinn, 56 & 81). Finally, Ruby, Gold, and Malachite has often been cited as Tuke’s most strikingly homoerotic work (Kim, 41). The six boys gaze at each other with unadulterated intimacy in a scene of pure hedonism. They are uncompromisingly nude and exposed to each other with grace and openness; the saturated red shirt of the central clothed grinning boy exudes eroticism. However, despite Tuke’s identity as a queer artist and these striking visual elements, I believe this work can be also be interpreted as a representation of intimacy in companionship. By avoiding the depiction of homosexual acts in his art, Tuke seems to explore the masculine experience more than he does homosexuality; this makes his work even more powerful and ultimately threatening. The cultural association between male intimacy and homosexuality is the result of a problematic notion of masculinity. By remaining ambiguous, Tuke seems to imply that male attraction is not limited to the homosexual male and that intimacy should be part of the heterosexual male experience. In this case, it seems more truthful to read this work as a representation of male affection that extends beyond sexual orientation rather than what Jongwoo Kim simplifies as Tuke’s homosexual “romantic fantasy” (Kim, 41). I believe it is significant not to interpret Tuke’s art only through his queer identity as I see his most unique prowess in his truthful conception of masculinity: one that embraces dependency, openness, and homoerotic attraction.
As he dedicated his whole life to the reimagination of the erotic male and the notion of masculinity itself, it is no wonder why Henry Scott Tuke was erased from art history until quite recently. There are inherent politics in the discourse on the male nude as it always emblematizes a discussion of masculinity itself (MacKinnon, 56) This emanates from the fact that masculinity is continuously redefined and argued over as to what it is and what it should be; thus, works of art that imply any moral, sexual, or cultural truth about masculinity are highly scrutinized. This seems to be the main reason as to why Tuke’s art is still debated today despite its “apolitical” presentation. Further, any work that might be more appealing to the female or homosexual male viewer has been heavily suppressed in every form of art (MacKinnon, 196). This can only be explained as a way for the heterosexual white male to keep control of the making and the viewership art; this attitude was similar in literature as in the notable case of Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Gray which was censored for decades due to its homoerotic undertones and its critiques of Victorian moralism (Gillespie, 104). In fact, late 19th-century Victorian England displayed a serious aversion towards homosexuality and an oppressive disdain for works that challenged its cultural norms in response to the Aesthetic movement and the rise of openly queer artists (Hatt, 108). There was a conscious demonization of homosexuality even among educated thinkers who saw homosexuality as a form of narcissism (Hatt, 109)
This context makes it unsurprising that Tuke’s works like A Bathing Group (Fig. 9, 1914), After the Bathe (Fig. 10, 1921), Under the Western Sun (Fig. 11, 1917), Noonday Heat (Fig. 12, 1903) and The Critics (Fig. 13, 1927) were seen as deeply problematic despite his apolitical attitude; by rejecting a provocative presentation of his art, Tuke normalizes it as though it could not even be conceived as provocative. These works center on the intimate relationship between men after bathing. These incandescent later works are ravishingly sensual and perfectly encapsulates the Hellenistic view of “man-manly love”. The figures are not presented as objects of beauty for the viewer but for the eyes of one another. Yet, Tuke never makes the homoeroticism explicit and ensures it remains an undertone. His sexually ambiguous depiction of male intimacy defies the comfortable notion of categorization and refutes the false historical binary conception of sexual orientation (Katz, 75). It also places masculinity as something that is not separate from homoeroticism. In a strange sense, it is Tuke’s ambiguous passivity and avoidance of essentialization which makes him so delightfully troublesome to the status quo (Katz, 75). When observing his work in this manner, it is logical that the Aesthetic movement became anxiety-inducing as it is in its avoidance of practical purpose that it gains political force. However, while most Aesthetic artists are much better appreciated today, it is interesting to observe that Henry Scott Tuke is still abhorred by so many.
In 2009, the Cornwall LGBTQ+ resource group Intercom Trust created an event centered on queer artists where they made a point of not supporting Henry Scott Tuke or any art depicting the male nude. Stating “abuse and exploitation” as their issue with the male nude and Tuke’s art, their now-deleted statement led to strong resentment from several LGBTQ+ activists and human rights experts. In parallel, largely influenced by Tuke’s art, the 2017 film Call Me By Your Name which centers on the blossoming relationship between 17-year-old Elio and 24-year-old Oliver was met with identical disdain; the film has a liberating Aesthetic logic to it and similarly denies a binary conception of sexuality but it has been painted as “abusive and dangerous” by several conservative media outlets. A particular review by journalist Cheyenne Montgomery that I can only describe as a thinly veiled form of homophobia serves as a reminder that popular media can be reminiscent of Victorian Moralism. It seems that this reaction coming from both sides of the political spectrum is exclusive to representations of male beauty that evade traditional gender norms and sexual orientation (MacKinnon, 24). In opposition, Renaissance and Ancient Greek depictions of the nude male are comparatively much better accepted by Western culture as they more closely mirror the historical conception of masculinity (MacKinnon, 47). While critiques of Henry Scott Tuke or Call me by your Name often state pedophilia as their main issue, it seems obvious that this disdain stems from what seems like an endless cultural misunderstanding of masculinity and an ongoing pejorative perception of homosexuality.
Ultimately, Tuke reinvents the male nude by creating a more truthful sense of masculinity and manages to be provocative through his ambiguous passivity. In his quest for a more authentic form of male beauty, past and current views of his work demonstrate the eternal political discourse that is intrinsic to discussion of the male nude. By embodying the Aesthetic philosophy, Tuke interestingly became politicized both by his supporters and his opposition. His particular case manifests a critical truth about the toxic relationship between art and culture in how both come to define each other. Conclusively, the work of Henry Scott Tuke displays art’s capacity to be timelessly meaningful despite its context, its age, or its intent.
Bibliography
Cahn, I. (1996). Les Nus de Renoir. Paris, France: Éditions Assouline.
Clark, K. (1956). The Nude: A Study in Ideal Form. Michigan, United-States: Pantheon Books
Garb, T. (1998). Gustave Caillebotte’s Male Figures: Masculinity, Muscularity and Modernity. Bodies of
Modernity: Figure and Flesh in Fin-de-Siècle France. London, England: Thames & Hudson.
Gillespie, M. P. (2019). Branding Oscar Wilde. London, England: Routledge, Taylor et Francis Group.
Hatt, M. (2007). Space, Surface, Self: Homosexuality and the Aesthetic Interior. Visual Culture in
Britain v. 8,n. 1: 105-128. Manchester, England: Manchester University Press.
Ivory, J. (2017). Call Me By Your Name: Screenplay. Paris, France; La Cinéfacture.
Johnson, R. V. (1973). Aestheticism. London, England: Methuen.
Katz, J. (2017) Naked Politics: The Art of Eros 1955–1975. Queer difficulty in art and poetry: Rethinking
the sexed body in verse and visual culture: 74-86. London, England: Routledge.
Kim, J. J. (2017). Naturalism, labour and homoerotic desire: Henry Scott Tuke. British queer history:
New approaches and perspectives. Manchester, England: Manchester University Press.
MacKinnon, K. (1998). Uneasy pleasures: The male as erotic object. London, England: Cygnus Arts.
Paolucci, A., & Amendola, A. (2006). David: Michelangelo. London, England: Royal Academy of Arts.
Seymour, C. (1974). Michelangelo's David: A search for identity. New York: Norton.
Wainwright, D., & Dinn, C. (1991). Henry Scott Tuke, 1858-1929, under canvas. London: Sarema Press.
Westheimer, R. (1993). Les Érotiques de L’Art. Paris, France: Éditions Abbeville.