Exhibition Square: York Art Gallery - William Etty

History - Born in York in 1787, William Etty became a pioneering artist known for his bold portrayal of the male nude. By that, I mean, he was particularly good at arses. His provocative works of art challenged societal norms of the time. He was also heavily involved in the restoration of York Minster after a fire burned down the roof in 1829, and an advocate for the preservation of what remained of the York walls. While the main four barbicans were torn down, several of the original bars have been preserved. The public toilets housed within these parts of the walls  would later serve as popular & well-frequented cottaging sites for gay men in the late 20th century. He returned to York in his later years, and is buried in St. Olave’s Churchyard and his tomb can be seen from the Museum Gardens. There is much debate surrounding his sexuality, while his portrayal of the male form had previously led scholars to believe he was homosexual, it is now believed by some that he may have been asexual. 

Wonderful, Wonderful (This Death)

for William Etty

Though the pubs be bars, 

And the bars be gates, 

So the gates be streets, 

And the streets be cobbled, 

I’ve cobbled you together now

from little bits of everywhere. 

And no-one sees you but me. 


No matter how well-shaped & beautifully crafted 

the mythic buttock of your desire, 

there will always be a crack in it. 

As if, by design. 

All our paintings are shaded masks, they curl up their features, 

And titter their confessions through the veil,  

Well hung, all on display, admonished with a chiselled hand,  

We must guard our heritage with fashion, 

Fervour, aplomb, and an unparalleled ferocity. 


You’ll be beautifully framed, 

Well, parts of you. 

I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave, 

They chipped off all those leaves, you know, 

Such an anticlimax as well,  

I’d have been much more careful, not to chip off the old cock, 


I would’ve sculpted you, smoothed out your creases, 

giving generous shards of marble to the floor in search of your smile, 

Not clumsily sticking bits of you back on with an ice-cream scoop, 

You are never an afterthought. 


I’ve crafted you together now into little bits of everywhere. 

And everywhere I walk, I feel your cobbles, 

Every which way I look, I see you. 


Wonderful, wonderful, this life, 

walking through echoes of you. 

Prompt

Stand before the statue of William Etty, a Victorian painter known for his nude studies. Take a moment to feel your body within this space. As you look at Etty’s depiction of the human form, notice how your own body feels. Warmer than his, I’m sure! Take up space, allow yourself to expand within it. Take up as much space as you can, make yourself bigger. Place your hand over your chest, over your stomach, over your thighs. How does it feel to inhabit this body, this space, when so much of queer history has been about shrinking or hiding? Let the sensation of occupying your own body be a statement of defiance and pride, in contrast to the statuesque ideal of the human form that was so carefully curated in Etty’s work.

Write a poem that reflects on the relationship between you and your body and the image you hold of it. What parts of you have been chiselled away by your own self-image? What parts remain gloriously intact? Consider the cracks in the ageing body, its flaws and inconsistencies, the inherent beauty in what is not necessarily sculpted or seen. Let your poem be a reclamation of the queer body, a celebration of the spaces you inhabit and the history you carry on your bones. Describe the sensation of that tension between the body on display and the body in hiding. This an ode to your body or a body part, sing its praises in the face of all the battles it silently endures!