A Body of Work
Hank Wandle is finding himself within art and the human figure — including his own
-
Name: Hank Wandle
Age: 50
Location: Lincolnshire, U.K.
Primary subject: Nudes
Media: Acrylic on canvas, gouache on paper, linoprint, ink and wash, and digital vector graphics
Bluesky: @hankwandle
HANK WANDLE had no idea the silicone replica of his cock would start him down a healing path that meant rediscovering an inner artist he’d put on a shelf nearly four decades ago.
“Embrace,” acrylic on canvas panel, 16 x 20 inches
With the world in a pandemic standstill, the self-taught, U.K.-based artist picked up a brush and some acrylic paints and prepared to paint the dildo in front of him.
“In the isolation of lockdown, back when it was quite scary to even go out of the house, I didn’t really have many options for subjects,” Hank says. “As a sort of joke, I’d made a silicone dildo of myself for my partner, so we could be ‘together’ even while apart, and with little else to paint — and a feeling of devilment — I ended up painting it. With encouragement from my partner, I posted the pictures online and that was my start!”
Doodling had always been a part of Hank’s life.
Growing up, he copied newspaper comics and cartoons like “Asterix” and had wanted to persue art, until he got moved to a woodworking class in his pre-teen years.
“I never had any further school lessons,” he said. “It’s a regret I held on to for a long time.”
Hank dabbled in digital art in the 1990s in college, where he learned Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator. But over time he drifted away from it: “I always felt that the ‘art’ I was making was derivative, as I used other people’s reference photos as my starting point. So it sort of fell off my radar.”
Fast-forward many years, a dildo of his own dick before him, Hank let his desire to paint bloom.
Five years later, he’s made several acrylic canvases and has explored gouache, linoprint, ink and wash, and digital vector graphics (“I’m still something of a dabbler. I like to learn new things to keep my interest.”).
And last year he took part in a group exhibition at the SoHo Project Space called, “We Stand With Ukraine,” curated by Rob Hugh Rosen.
Years ago, before the Russian invasion, when Hank started posting his work on Twitter, he became friends with Ukrainian photographer Igor Yermakov, who asked Hank to contribute to a collaborative book project he was working on. Hank did three paintings for him.
A couple years later, Rosen contacted Hank about having one of his paintings in the show, which was organized to raise awareness of Russia’s invasion and its anti-LGBTQ+ propoganda. Yermakov’s original project had been so wide-ranging, with artists all over the world, so organizers offered limited edition prints to raise money for a couple of Ukrainian LGBTQ+ organizations: LGBTQI Defenders of Ukraine and We Are!.
Hank says he was flattered and delighted to be asked to participate. He happened to be planning a vacation around the time the exhibition was happening, so — at the urging of his partner — he flew across the pond and attended the opening.
“To be honest it was a little surreal to be there, with ‘real’ artists in a respected queer space,” he says. “I think I only realized how much it meant to me in the weeks that followed. I also got a chance to meet Rob and thank him for making me part of it. Unfortunately Igor had been the victim of a homophobic assault and was in hospital at the time, so I didn’t get chance to meet him, but we do chat on the Internet.”
Hank Wandle brings his cobalt-on-crimson “Torso” diptych into the gallery spotlight, showcasing his bold queer figuration.
FINDING THE CONFIDENCE
Hank has mostly worked on queer and sexually charged subjects and themes — including several stunning and colorful self-portrait nudes, which were a result of that frustrating pandemic reality: He had no other models to work with while on lockdown and isolating alone.
“I was now fully in control of the subject, lighting and framing,” he says. “So unlike my earlier artistic endeavors, I could really ‘own’ the end results. I do still use other people’s work for inspiration and reference, but I make those pieces my own rather than mere recreations.”
While Hank has shared those colorful pieces of himself with the world via social media and on his website, his confidence to do so is still pretty new: “I didn’t even think I could sketch well!” he says.
When he first started out, he tried to use a camera lucida but quickly abandoned that because he found it too clunky to work with. So with his phone camera and bluetooth remote in hand, he began posing for his creations.
“I would look at photography and art for posing and composition inspiration, but often it’d be a case of, ‘take a million photos and there’ll be at least one good one in the batch’” he jokes.
FINDING HIMSELF
While you might not think it from his incredible work, for most of his life, Hank kept large parts of himself in reserve.
It took a series of life events coming together, culminating in the pandemic, to push him into a fuller version of himself and set him on this artistic journey.
“Calisthenics,” watercolor on paper
“The pandemic was very tough, it was the icing on a particularly rubbish cake,” he says. “In the previous few years I’d lost both my parents: my mother very suddenly and unexpectedly; my father to a long battle with cancer. I’d seen my marriage dissolve and been in a couple of disastrous relationships, plus finally facing up to my sexuality. So to suddenly be in lockdown just as I’d started to get sorted out was tough.
“I really became quite agoraphobic and my world shrunk. I’d given up work a month before the first U.K. lockdown with the intention to renovate my house, so I didn’t even have a reason to leave the house. While this did give me a huge amount of freedom to explore my art — and I’m very glad I had that — it also meant I used my art as a way of avoiding dealing with the real world.”
That inward turn and the self-portrait focus brought out another inner demon: body dysmorphia. But Hank’s art journey was also a part of overcoming and healing those wounds.
“I would spend a long time taking photographs trying to find ways of hiding or disguising parts of myself that I didn’t like,” he says. “I would compare myself unfavorably to professional models that I was looking at for inspiration. Over time, however, that has faded a lot. I’m in therapy and have an incredibly supportive partner, and I’ve stopped trying to use my art to project a ‘perfect’ version of myself.
“I was recently painted by French artist Jules Piler from a selfie reference I sent him, and that painting is one of my most favorite things. It really makes me feel good about my body!”
FINDING COMMUNITY
Hank faced a lot of homophobia growing up, and so he hid so much of his queerness — even from himself. But coming through those tough times, he found many parts of himself he wanted to explore.
The Internet helped.
“At the beginning, when I started posting art online, I used a pseudonym and didn’t post art with my face in it. (And not just because I didn’t feel confident painting faces!) I was scared of being recognized by people I knew ‘in real life’ both because I feared judgement and because I wasn’t out at that time.
“As I’ve grown in confidence, both as an artist and as a proud and out queer person, I’m much more comfortable sharing art that’s definitely ‘me.’ And painting myself nude and sexual has really helped me combat issues of body dysmorphia and poor self image.”
He says finding a community of queer artists and art lovers online has played a big role in helping him develop as an artist — and as a queer person.
“Finding people on social media — and post-lockdowns, in real life — to talk all those feelings and emotions out has meant I’m heading into my 50s a much happier and self-aware person,” Hank says. “By sharing my art online, I’ve found other artists to take inspiration from, both from a technical perspective — seeing how they use different media — and from the way they express themselves in terms of subject matter and the subjectivity of their approaches.”
FINDING THE FUTURE
Hank took on a couple of painted commissions, but he doesn’t do that anymore. He enjoys the freedom that comes with art as a hobby: painting for himself and not appeasing an audience or client.
He wants to exhibit more work, but he knows the sexual themes and subject matter can limit options for that.
“It’s something I can’t imagine ever losing interest in, but lately I’ve also been painting subjects which are still definitely queer, but less explicitly sexual,” he says. “I’m starting to build a body of work that could be more acceptable to a wider audience.”
Still, his long love of the hyper-sexualized art of Tom of Finland, Jim French, and Harry Bush continue to inspire him (“Sexual art is definitely something that fires me.”).
And he finds inspiration from other artists, old and new.
“I will never not be awed by John Singer Sargent and Paul Cadmus,” he says. “I also take inspiration from photographers like George Platt Lynes and Florian Hetz. It’s been wonderful to make contact with other gay and queer artists and see the almost infinite different ways people make art. I love the freedom of people like Dan Romer and William Donovan and the meticulousness of people like Igor Sychev.”
As for his own pearl of inspiring art wisdom, Hank emphasizes that it’s important to stay curious: “The act of creating is fun, even if the end result goes in the bin!”
Looking for more queer male nude art?
Check out more articles on the current Quarteros Review page!