Leather Archives & Museum: 25 Years (1991-2016) [digital]

FROM THE FOUNDER:
ON 25 YEARS OF LEATHER HISTORY
This year the Leather Archives and Museum celebrates its 25 th
anniversary. Officially, LA&M began in 1991, but the real story
is much older. It began in the 1950's when my partner, Dom
Orejudos, and I opened Kris Studios. Through Dom's artistic
ingenuity and my photography skills we produced photo sets of
bodybuilders – beefcake, the predecessor of gay porn. We took
the best of these photos back home to our basement for
packaging and fulfillment. Unfortunately, a sewer flood in the
1960's destroyed the best of the negatives and left me very
aware of the necessity for safe storage.
As the artist Etienne, Dom continued to produce drawings and
paintings starting in the 1950's and continuing until his too early
death in 1991. A noted erotic artist, Dom's art had been used
to promote and identify a number of businesses around the
world, including our own International Mr. Leather, The Gold
Coast Leather Bar and Man’s Country Baths. Left with this
treasure trove of sketches and finished pieces, and concerned
about their preservation, I began contacting art museums in
Chicago, San Francisco and New York. Each museum
expressed an interest, but they all wanted to pick
and choose which pieces they'd accept into their
collections. I felt it better to keep the entire
collection intact. I decided to create a foundation
to hold Dom's art.
During a conversation with my good friend and
Drummer publisher, Tony DeBlase, I mentioned
the foundation. Tony talked me down. He felt
foundations didn't last. “What you need is a
museum,” he suggested. By the time that
conversation ended, the concept of LA&M was
born. In addition to all of Etienne's art, I'd pledged
my Gold Coast, IML and Kris Studios archives and
Tony pledged his archives from Drummer
Magazine.
Our first museum was a storefront at 5013 N. Clark
Street, next door to my bathhouse and my
office. It had a small display area and larger back
storage room which quickly overflowed with other
collections and donations arriving every week. We
were in the thick of the AIDS epidemic and with
each death, families and friends were unknowingly
tossing our history into dumpsters. That there was
a safe place to conserve that history simply made
more sense. I asked Barry Johnson to join us on
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