The joint venture of a preacher and a pornographer,
the museum is home to a variety of exhibits exploring the intricacies of
sexuality in history, culture, and the individual. Inside, visitors find
multiple galleries of erotic information: a portion of the upstairs dedicated
to erotic artwork; a "Wall of Shame" outlining the history of attacks
on the first-amendment rights in relation to "obscenity";
infographics on different facets of contemporary sexual issues like sexting and
long-distance relationships; and even a screening of what is believed to be the
oldest pornographic film on record: A Free Ride, 1915.
This isn't the first time I've been to the EHM, but
things have changed since I first dropped by. I suppose that's to be expected,
with museums always looking for fresh and interesting exhibits to share, but
the EHM has been doing more than re-decorating. Like its subjects of interest,
the museum has been evolving, exploring even more areas of contemporary
sexuality.
It goes without saying what my interest in erotic heritage and history is: to me, every exhibit
within the museum is a resource for writing about sexuality. The whole building
is one big research facility for me (and, not gonna lie, it's a damn fun way to
spend the day in the name of research). What I love most about the museum,
though, is that its very existence validates one of my deeper motivations in
writing erotic fiction: sexuality is more
than a sex scene between two heterosexual white partners in the bedroom.
Now admittedly, that stereotype has been getting its
ass kicked soundly by erotic artists for many years now, but the whole point in
debunking it is in no way obsolete. First of all, there are lots of individuals
out there—writers or otherwise—who still need to be led away from the old archetype
to begin with. Secondly, though, breaking that mold is only the first step in
appreciating a very multi-faceted
issue. Writing good erotica—or maintaining a dynamic awareness of sexuality in
general—means recognizing that sex is about more than sex.
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| Air Sex. It's like Air Guitar. Seriously! |
On my first trip to the museum I was particularly
interested in some of the historical exhibits on sexuality and prostitution,
specifically in Japan, since it plays such a large role in Lotus Petals. Among their historical displays, the EHM shows off
hundreds of examples of erotic art, sculpture, and even ancient sex toys from
various countries and cultures of origin. This time around, the historical
exhibit also shared space with some more contemporary artifacts and—even better—stories,
facts and statistics about modern-day sexual subjects which are becoming far
more prevalent than they were five years ago. I particularly enjoyed the many
infographics displayed throughout the lower level of the museum, covering
subjects like sexting, the evolution of long-distance relationships, sex myths,
and facts about sexual health. It seems to me these are subjects we aren't
thinking about as often as we should, but the prevalence and significance of
them are definitely on the rise. For authors, I think this presents a really
terrific set of new avenues for erotic storytelling. Sexting for example, and
its consequences in a contemporary digitally-connected culture, is a fairly
fresh conflict to explore in our fiction. The face of long-distance relationships
has also changed, adapting as our connectivity adapts, and I know for a fact this
very issue is discussed. So let's
talk about it more, and examine—as the EHM has—how these relationships have
changed as a result of our changing culture.
I don't want to give you the idea that the EHM is full
of stuffy facts, though. A good deal of the space is devoted to erotic art of
all kinds. From sculpture to scrimshaw to photography to painting, and even
interactive exhibits like one current project, Flesh. Flesh is a series
of artworks designed to explore the journeys and emotions of abuse survivors;
the images are graphic and emotional, and the exhibit even comes with a
"trigger warning" to viewers. Additionally, though, all the pieces
have been hung on a wall specifically designed for them: sheets of
"notebook paper" are left open for viewers to add their own stories
of survival. I very specifically opted not
to photograph one of these additions, in hopes of preserving the integrity
and safety of the art and the contributor.
Flesh
is
an exhibit I think erotic authors can really learn from, for one very important
reason: we seem to think we understand sexual and physical abuse to a point we
feel free to write about it in an almost flippant manner. I find far too many
romance plotlines include some element of sexual "threat" in the
past, as if it's a foregone conclusion that any woman who spends any sort of
time outside her house has at one point been dangerously threatened, if not
outright assaulted. While the prevalence of sexual assault is much higher, I
think, than most naturally assume, the way
in which romance authors depict it is often (in my experience), blatantly
uninformed. Projects like Flesh shed
light on a more realistic vision of this very real problem, and to learn from
the words of real survivors may (hopefully) change perceptions of abuse enough
that writers in all forms of media begin to represent the struggle more
honestly, and not as the "token trauma" in their character's
backstory.
Personally, though, my favorite exhibit is the art
gallery. A stroll through this section provides me with loads of inspiration
and desire to create. There's a complex importance to it as well, in that a
piece of erotic art can touch on so many complex issues relevant to today:
issues of women's beauty and sexuality; issues of men's beauty and sexuality; cultural values; social values;
fashion; religion; and of course lots, lots more. My favorite pieces—some of
which were featured at my first visit, and some of which remain even today—are these
simple ink drawings presenting lush, curvy women, in varying implications of
bondage, dominance, or submission. The picture of the nun, in particular,
evokes hugely erotic, sensual emotion in me, such that I wrote one of my few
erotic poems entirely based on this image.
During my visit, I was also informed of an upcoming
feature to the museum's central exhibit space: another contemporary community
issue, a look at costuming, cosplay, body image and sexuality. I can't wait for pictures.
 |
Ladies and gentlemen...
I give you a real "dickhead" |
Outside the exhibit hall, the museum also hosts
workshops, lectures, shows, special events, and community gatherings (like
naked yoga). One day, I swear, I'm going to attend the Marquis de Sade's
birthday celebration. But you'll see here how the subject of erotic heritage is
not just contained in display cases
full of ancient sex toys, historic re-creations of peep-shows, or even the detailed
infographic timelines on first amendment issues, reproductive rights or
obscenity law. Erotic heritage is now also contained in the community, and in
the discussion and sharing of experience—if
there was ever a time it wasn't.
 |
| Chastity Belt |
For me as a writer, a visit to the EHM provides a
fresh set of issues, images, and discussion points to consider when I sit down
to write something new. It's always a pleasure to me, to explore a different angle
or subject in my erotica, and so I love to spend an afternoon looking over the
exhibits, artworks, and displays at the EHM. But erotic heritage is a part of
our national and international culture, as well, and has been for millennia.
EHM captures this history and invites discussion. I expect for many visitors,
it opens up new avenues of discovery and interest.
If you're in Las Vegas, don't miss the chance to
visit the EHM. Take a couple of hours to walk around the exhibits or take in a
class. Chat with the staff, too: they're exceptionally informative, and enjoy a
good dialogue. If you're a writer of erotica, a reader, or in any way
interested in the sexual identity and journey of our society, I think you'll
really enjoy what the EHM has to share.
It goes without saying what my interest in erotic heritage and history is: to me, every exhibit
within the museum is a resource for writing about sexuality. The whole building
is one big research facility for me (and, not gonna lie, it's a damn fun way to
spend the day in the name of research). What I love most about the museum,
though, is that its very existence validates one of my deeper motivations in
writing erotic fiction: sexuality is more
than a sex scene between two heterosexual white partners in the bedroom.
On my first trip to the museum I was particularly
interested in some of the historical exhibits on sexuality and prostitution,
specifically in Japan, since it plays such a large role in Lotus Petals. Among their historical displays, the EHM shows off
hundreds of examples of erotic art, sculpture, and even ancient sex toys from
various countries and cultures of origin. This time around, the historical
exhibit also shared space with some more contemporary artifacts and—even better—stories,
facts and statistics about modern-day sexual subjects which are becoming far
more prevalent than they were five years ago. I particularly enjoyed the many
infographics displayed throughout the lower level of the museum, covering
subjects like sexting, the evolution of long-distance relationships, sex myths,
and facts about sexual health. It seems to me these are subjects we aren't
thinking about as often as we should, but the prevalence and significance of
them are definitely on the rise. For authors, I think this presents a really
terrific set of new avenues for erotic storytelling. Sexting for example, and
its consequences in a contemporary digitally-connected culture, is a fairly
fresh conflict to explore in our fiction. The face of long-distance relationships
has also changed, adapting as our connectivity adapts, and I know for a fact this
very issue is discussed. So let's
talk about it more, and examine—as the EHM has—how these relationships have
changed as a result of our changing culture.
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