The Complete Tom of Finland
By Dian Hanson
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The day I filmed, visiting artists Michael Kirwan of Miami, Florida and Steam of Jerusalem lounged on the covered porch, drinking Finnish lemonade. On the second floor bedroom level roommate/houseboy Anthony happily polished boots - between Durk's, Anthony's and Tom's collections the house boasts nearly fifty pair. On the third floor, up under the eaves, Foundation employees Sharon Furman and Dan Babcock worked at computer terminals, surrounded on all sides by file cabinets bulging with Foundation ephemera. The atmosphere was relaxed, friendly, and as Anthony put it, club-like.
Wonderful as the whole house is, what most visitors want to see is back behind the file cabinets and computers on the third floor. Above a white door a little sign says "Tom of Finland's Room. No Food or Drinks, Please". Beyond is a simple room with a double bed, two bookcases, a drawing table, some photos, and many boots and uniforms. Durk is quick to point out that the room was far simpler when Tom lived there. "He was Finnish", he says. "They don't like clutter." Durk's learned that guests expect the uniforms, though, so now they're kept on display along with Tom's more mundane artifacts.
There's Tom's own Finnish army uniform from WWII; his favorite leather jacket and cap; his high, rustic Finnish boots with turned-up toes to accommodate snowshoes; and a German officer's uniform with the form-fitting jacket known to all Tom fans, waist pinched in waspishly, peplum contoured to hug the buttocks. Durk dons a German military cap and shows how the bill was designed to hide the eyes, as seen in so many of Tom's drawings. I talked Durk into wearing the cap for my video, as its sinister fetish appeal seemed to match the black leather spread on his bed.
Tom's own bed is covered in simple wool, as humble as the shy Finn was in life. Most effecting is the single piece of paper on his drawing table. It's a print of his last sketch, made while he was dying from emphysema in 1991. It shows a handsome, smiling young man, eyes warm and welcoming as only Tom could make them, wearing what may well be the uniform hanging in this room. The officer's boots are unfinished, feathering away to nothing at the bottom, as if Tom's energy gave out when he got to the feet, the body part he never quite mastered. Durk tells me he was such a perfectionist he refused to draw when he could no longer meet his own high standards. One sees his wisdom: better that this respectable sketch serve as his memorial than some sad feeble scratching to remind us that even the greatest talent must dwindle and die.
Page 1 2 3
Page 1 2 3
The day I filmed, visiting artists Michael Kirwan of Miami, Florida and Steam of Jerusalem lounged on the covered porch, drinking Finnish lemonade. On the second floor bedroom level roommate/houseboy Anthony happily polished boots - between Durk's, Anthony's and Tom's collections the house boasts nearly fifty pair. On the third floor, up under the eaves, Foundation employees Sharon Furman and Dan Babcock worked at computer terminals, surrounded on all sides by file cabinets bulging with Foundation ephemera. The atmosphere was relaxed, friendly, and as Anthony put it, club-like.
Wonderful as the whole house is, what most visitors want to see is back behind the file cabinets and computers on the third floor. Above a white door a little sign says "Tom of Finland's Room. No Food or Drinks, Please". Beyond is a simple room with a double bed, two bookcases, a drawing table, some photos, and many boots and uniforms. Durk is quick to point out that the room was far simpler when Tom lived there. "He was Finnish", he says. "They don't like clutter." Durk's learned that guests expect the uniforms, though, so now they're kept on display along with Tom's more mundane artifacts.
There's Tom's own Finnish army uniform from WWII; his favorite leather jacket and cap; his high, rustic Finnish boots with turned-up toes to accommodate snowshoes; and a German officer's uniform with the form-fitting jacket known to all Tom fans, waist pinched in waspishly, peplum contoured to hug the buttocks. Durk dons a German military cap and shows how the bill was designed to hide the eyes, as seen in so many of Tom's drawings. I talked Durk into wearing the cap for my video, as its sinister fetish appeal seemed to match the black leather spread on his bed.
Tom's own bed is covered in simple wool, as humble as the shy Finn was in life. Most effecting is the single piece of paper on his drawing table. It's a print of his last sketch, made while he was dying from emphysema in 1991. It shows a handsome, smiling young man, eyes warm and welcoming as only Tom could make them, wearing what may well be the uniform hanging in this room. The officer's boots are unfinished, feathering away to nothing at the bottom, as if Tom's energy gave out when he got to the feet, the body part he never quite mastered. Durk tells me he was such a perfectionist he refused to draw when he could no longer meet his own high standards. One sees his wisdom: better that this respectable sketch serve as his memorial than some sad feeble scratching to remind us that even the greatest talent must dwindle and die.
Page 1 2 3
