What if you died tonight and, suddenly, everything you ever wrote or drew was seen by thousands of people, even if it was never your intention? You might think they’re too embarrassing, dirty, or depraved to see the light of day. It’d be a nightmare, right? That’s precisely what happened to Tom Poulton but on a more private scale.
The British man, born in 1897, led a completely normal life. He attended the prestigious Slade School of Fine Art, located in central London. It was here where he met Diana, the woman who would become his wife nine years later. He began using his talent to illustrate for magazines and books, even for newer editions such as Fontenelle’s A Plurality of Worlds, one of the most popular science books in history. He also did works for the British Journal of Surgery and The Radio Times, a weekly magazine that is still published today. Though his work was always kept technical and professional, he had a secret he wasn’t willing to divulge: his private collection of erotic sketches.
There hasn’t been much said about Poulton’s personal life. What we do know is that the artist discovered the Kamasutra during a trip to India, which awakened his interest in erotic art. This then drove him to create several drawings that people often requested him to do. One of these clients was Beecher Moore, who sold his substantial collection in the early nineties.
If we look at the drawings, we can tell they were made with a soft pencil, occasionally using pen and ink. We can also notice Poulton had an impressive talent capturing anatomically correct figures in an entirely erotic context. His soft lines give a sense of revealing more than what is just on the page. We can devise a sense for the classics, considering how outdated they look compared to works from the time. Despite their simplicity they contain a highly sexual subtext.
The images are characterized by their exuberance and their representation of its subject as equally excited to be a part of whatever the images shows. It’s considered that this is what ultimately separates Poulton from his contemporaries. He might’ve been showing the risqué but it was done in a joyful and guiltless manner.
But there was a sense of shame behind the work. He kept his erotic images a secret his whole life, for fear of them being confiscated or causing him to be arrested by the police. He lived with his wife for many years in the Soho area of London. Nobody knows if they later divorced or if she died before him. What has been revealed is that he died alone in an apartment in Camden. His hidden body of work was found after this, and later on his clients also showed what he’d drawn for them.
One of the more representative things about his drawings is that they’re simple sketches. The lines and shadows are widely demarcated and give a sense of desperation, as if the illustrator himself was expressing his own desire on the page.
It’s interesting to think that Poulton died in 1963, just before the sexual revolution began. This might’ve released him from the guilt he felt regarding his drawings. All these sketches were made public after his death and have been compiled for their publication. It’s not just the quality that makes them interesting, but the fact that the artist had to die before they had a wider audience.
So, again, what would we do if our deepest secrets were published posthumously? We might feel ashamed but, if they achieved the level of recognition as Poulton’s, we’d be glad to see other people enjoying our work.
We don’t know if Poulton would’ve been pleased. But there’s a possibility that he might have smiled at the thought of not being incarcerated, nobody confiscating his work, and the surprise of how many continue to admire his drawings all those years after they were uncovered.
Translated by María Suárez