“All the inherent beauty of the male body has once again become familiar and desirable. In art and commerce we have long enjoyed the images of naked women, but now we have the freedom to enjoy the images of naked men, too!” – David Leddick, Naked Men Too: Liberating the Male Nude, 1950–2000
I PICKED this up at one of the BMV Books in Toronto back in 2001 ( I LOVE this place!), so the slipcover is a tad beat up, and yes, it’s not technically part of my ’90s collection. However, Naked Men Too: Liberating the Male Nude, 1950–2000 (Universe, 2000) by David Leddick is the follow-up to the Lambda Award–winning Naked Men: Pioneering Male Nudes, 1900–1950 (Universe, 1997), which I’ve been unable to locate, even though I know I own it (I’m a collector, not a hoarder, I swear!). So, I’m featuring this book.
Naked Men Too is a carefully curated, visceral, and captivating exploration of masculinity laid bare—artistically, erotically, and culturally. Artists featured include the expected—Herb Ritts, Greg Gorman, Pierre and Gilles, Jim French (aka Rip Colt), Tom Bianchi—along with dozens of lesser-known but equally talented artists and photographers.
But let’s be clear: this is a narrow vision, rooted firmly in hyper-masculine ideals. Every model featured has a muscular, bodybuilder, or conventionally athletic build. There are no bears and no twinks, and no bodies that challenge conventional standards of fitness or physicality, such as men with visible disabilities.
Even the scarce depictions of femininity are placed within a hyper-masculine-presenting man, such as Christopher Buring in Keith Giles’ famous nude photograph of the model wearing taloned evening gloves and knee-length heeled boots. As Reddick writes, the image presents “…a dramatic vision of the male nude emancipated from traditional definitions of masculinity.” Yes, I see it, but Buring is not exactly what I’d call “femme presenting,” not with that James Dean pout, jawline, and broad shoulders.
In the book, body hair appears in only a few photographs, such as the carefully manscaped image of iconic gay photographer Tom Bianchi (with Walter Batt), Charlton Heston’s Cosmopolitan-style photograph with his junk strategically covered, and 1970s-80s adult film performer Casey Donovan. Everyone else looks like they could have been plucked straight from a Herb Ritts portfolio.
There is, however, a range of men represented across race, sexuality, and age: White, Black, Asian, Latino; gay, straight, and bisexual; young and mature. However, due to the time of publication, trans men are not included.
From my perspective, Leddick moves away from sensationalist provocation in this book, favouring a more deliberate artistry in the images—drawings, paintings, and photography—though their sensuality and erotic appeal remain unmistakable. Naked Men Too reframes exposure as an act of courage and pride in one’s body and sexuality, rather than as a vehicle for shock or overtly pornographic titillation, though some poses and situations do include full erections and playful eroticism. Still, how hard can this be when everybody looks like a Greco-Roman god, an object of unquestionable desire and acceptability?
I want to emphasize that I’m not dismissing the important message; rather, I’m putting it in a realistic context. It’s a lot easier to feel comfortable in one’s own skin and show that skin when you’ve moulded your form to align with stereotypical, Westernized ideals of male beauty and physical perfection. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to look this way, and with men who choose to strive for this ideal—no judgment here. Muscles are great, but I love a hirsute, heavier man. As visually stunning and enticing as this book is, it fails to capture the full spectrum of masculinity or the ways men can embody traits beyond conventional norms, including more feminized and full-figured expressions.
In contrast, Leddick’s 1998 book The Male Nude presents a far greater diversity of male forms and identities.
I posit that the portrayal of near or full nudity is the true risk—the real courage on display. Society then, as now, still judges men by their “size,” if you catch my meaning. These images mark a significant transitional moment between coded or modest representation and overt erotic visibility in the second half of the twentieth century. Not all penises are, or need to be, gargantuan to be aesthetically pleasing, and this book reflects that.
Unsurprisingly, in Naked Men Too, Leddick features Hollywood actors—such as a 54-year-old Burt Lancaster and the super-hot Maxwell Caulfield—the expected porn actors, including Aiden Shaw and Ryan Idol, and quirky celebrities, like pioneering fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent.
But what I find particularly intriguing is the inclusion of everyday, non-professional men dipping their toes into the world of modelling. Interspersed among recognizable figures are men with no public or “celebrity” careers—students, corporate workers, artists, to name a few—who stepped in front of the camera briefly and then disappeared from public view. Their presence grounds the book, reminding readers that the history of the male nude is shaped not only by iconic figures but also by ordinary men, willing, even eager, to be seen nude or semi-nude, captured in a kind of immortality through art and photography.
David Leddick passed away at the age of 93 on March 19, 2023, but his work lives on. That said, 