Short film. Based on award winning story by LGBT fiction pioneer Richard Hall.

At Home with Robert Mapplethorpe



IN PURELY VISUAL TERMS, they appeared to be an odd couple. With his exceptionally handsome face etched deeply with a desirable masculine divinity, and held gracefully atop a tall, impeccably dressed build, Sam Wagstaff exuded sophistication, taste, education, old money, and confidence, while his slim younger partner, dressed rebelliously in denim and silver-studded black leather, seemed vaguely edgy and preoccupied. Robert Mapplethorpe did not appear to fit comfortably among the guests gathered at a cocktail party on Gramercy Park East that early fall evening of 1975, and gave the slightest impression that he’d rather be elsewhere.

MapplethorpeAs the hostess was a longtime friend of my former lover and me, she had invited us together, as we were at that time attempting what proved to be an unsuccessful reconciliation after a summer breakup. But having spent a few months as a single 26-year-old gay man, I’d learned to stretch my wings and liked the freedom. So my senses were equally though discreetly attuned toward men I found attractive, funny, and interesting.

Robert Mapplethorpe and I shared a few words of introduction, but I felt no particular connection with him. Frankly, his sartorial appearance indicated a preference for a kinkier kind of sexuality than interested me at the time.

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