Filmmaker John Waters stares intently, deciding which fake food item to pack into his suitcase. Former White House staff member Sean Maloney and his partner, Randy Florke, epitomize the typical American family as they play with their two children. Drag queen Hedda Lettuce is caught sipping a glass of liquid courage while preparing for a performance, as two shelves of bewigged Styrofoam heads look on and her small dog clamors for her attention. Michael Cunningham, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Hours, seems deep in thought, his thumbnail just entering his mouth, as his partner, psychoanalyst Ken Corbett, seems to be trying to decipher him.

In Tom Atwood’s photographic book Kings in Their Castles, a variety of queer men are caught in repose, creating a tableau of modern gay society. From contemporary artists such as author Edmund White to fashion designer Todd Oldham, Atwood seeks to gain insight into both the person and their natural surroundings. Atwood let the Gay & Lesbian Times in on the trade secrets of his artistry, and how Kings in Their Castles captures a truer vision of contemporary gay culture.

Gay & Lesbian Times: How did your interest in photography develop?

Tom Atwood: My gravitation toward photography developed out of a confluence of other interests: painting, architecture, musical theater and psychology. I take pride in my photography being personal – something organic that comes from within and reflects how I see the world. What’s influenced my work most are my life experiences.

I’ve spent every day of my life interacting with and observing the world around me, and this informs the choices I make in my photographs. It’s always been the commonplace, everyday world that has fascinated me the most: how an interior is laid out, what’s in someone’s garbage, how someone uses the products in their bathroom.

I’ve always had an eye for the most arcane of details. I notice things that really shouldn’t matter, to the point where I’m obsessive about everyday details. Observations remain etched in my mind, and sometimes I think they’re trivial – but on some level they do matter, because they ultimately inform my photography at one point or another.

GLT: How did the idea for the book come about?

TA: There is a profound need for a serious photo documentary of the gay male community. There haven’t been many, if any, such documentaries of the community, and I’ve never encountered one featuring men at home. Many gay photo books highlight nudity or sexuality, and I wanted to offer a different perspective. But in general, I seek out subjects and situations that sing to me. Many gay men have a flair for design and some of the most intriguing living spaces in this country. From an aesthetic point of view, I feel that the subject matter is fascinating, and [I] felt like somebody needed to document it. I chose to do a book because I think that art should be democratic and accessible by all – the whole reason to take pictures is to share them with others. A $35 book can be enjoyed by tens of thousands.

GLT: Were any of the subjects that were photographed a contrast from their public personas?

TA: Yes! Many times the castles of these kings very accurately fit their public image. John Waters is a case in point, with an execution chair and art installation depicting a table where a terrorist had been manufacturing anthrax in little plastic bags.

But other times I found the opposite. I encountered a lot of subjects that use their personal space as a way to create [a] sanctuary, which can comfort and soothe. John Bartlett is a good example of this. His fashions are edgy – with references to S&M – yet his apartment is on the traditional side, if absolutely gorgeous and beautifully designed.

For others, our homes represent fantasy worlds that allow us to blossom – to be who we want regardless of whether society disapproves. Many gay people go to great lengths to draw distinction between the mainstream and ourselves, a difference that is often visually represented through our homes. Unusual color palates, foreign doorknobs, provocative objects d’art… all of these design tactics – whether consciously or not – are often used to show that we are unique.

GLT: Do you have a preference of posing the subjects, or do you try to capture their essence in an unguarded moment?

TA: I follow subjects through their daily routine and try to capture everyday moments. I see photography as a social, interpersonal process – as an interaction between the personalities of the subjects and the photographer. Some people can be nervous about being photographed. Through a constant dialogue with my subjects, I try to ensure that they relax and don’t have too much anxiety.

However, when people are in front of the camera, they often do things that are contrived or unnatural because they are ill at ease – awkward expressions, movements, poses, etc., that are not as common in real life and not as representative of a subject’s true personality. Part of my job is to recognize these and occasionally suggest poses that are more natural, or switch gears and do something different to get the subject to be more comfortable and forget that the camera is there.

GLT: What portraits of contemporary gay life are you hoping to portray with these photographs, and what do you hope the reader comes away with from viewing them?

TA: With Kings in Their Castles, I attempt to suggest what such spaces reveal about the range of gay people’s personalities, as well as how complex our personalities can be. Some of the messages about contemporary gay life that seem to continuously jump out include [that] we are all kings. Manhattan is literally like a castle: on an island, separated from the country by a moat – rivers – with spires – skyscrapers – soaring to the sky. Many of the subjects are kings of their professions: leading writers, designers, etc. And many of us are visually rich in the way that medieval royalty was: strong, deep colors, lavish fabrics, etc.

Similarly, we are models – models of individuality, models of truth, models of bravery.

We are exhibitionists. We like to paint ourselves or have photos of ourselves – even status – at home. Our representation through images and the media is more important than reality; and in one sense, reality is only valid if it is recorded in an image or in the media.

For a community that is obsessed with image and beauty, our living spaces are the ultimate in self-expression. The gay man’s living space is a metaphysical extension of himself.

I hope that the reader comes away with a celebration of difference; a sense of how interesting and unique the gay community is. I’m hoping that the book will become a symbol of and source of pride for the gay community. I would be delighted if it helped shape and became a part of our identity. On a lighter note, I also just want people to enjoy the book and have fun with the pictures.