The world of adult film has long been an intriguing subject for artists and photographers, with its intersections of fantasy and reality. American photographer Larry Sultan explored this duality through his lens, capturing the often-overlooked suburban homes that served as backdrops for adult film productions. His work highlights the complexity of these spaces, revealing how they were transformed into stages for pleasure while retaining elements of everyday life.
In the late 1990s, Sultan found himself back in California’s San Fernando Valley, a region that had become a hub for adult entertainment studios. His assignment for the men’s magazine Maxim led him to photograph the daily life of a porn star, specifically Sharon Wild. The experience reignited his fascination with the homes rented by adult film companies, which he described as a “parallel reality.”
Over several years, Sultan captured the incongruities of these settings. The homes, dotted with mundane details like magnets on refrigerators and fake plants, evoked a sense of domesticity that was both familiar and estranged. His photographs reveal how these spaces, normally inhabited by families, were adapted for a different purpose, often abruptly vacated for a day’s shoot.
Sultan’s wife, Kelly Sultan, accompanied him on the set during that pivotal Maxim shoot. She recalled how Sultan was drawn to the details of these homes, noting the subtle traces of daily life that remained amidst the theatricality of adult film production. “What was immediately of interest to him was the home itself,” she explained. “The details of daily life that were still alive in the home and being used as a backdrop for this alternative family that had moved in for the day.”
The resulting series, published as a book titled The Valley in 2004, showcases Sultan’s unique approach. He often relegated the act of sex to the background, focusing instead on the environment and its relationship to the performers. The bodies in his images are frequently obscured or cropped out, inviting viewers to engage with the setting rather than the explicit content.
Sultan’s assistant, Rebecca Bausher, described his method of seeking a sense of place. While some images depict sex scenes taking place off-frame, Sultan’s eye often landed on the incongruities within the set design. “He’d be like, ‘Oh my God, look at this menorah,’” Bausher recalled, demonstrating Sultan’s ability to capture the essence of a home amidst the chaos of adult film production.
In many of his photographs, Sultan’s presence is acknowledged by the performers, creating moments of intimacy. One such portrait of Sharon Wild features her making direct eye contact with the camera, a rare instance that encapsulates the complexity of the setting. In a 2003 interview with the Oakland Museum of Contemporary Art, he stated, “I think of myself on porn sets as documenting fictions.” He further elaborated on his style, describing it as “anti-dramatic,” focusing on moments that diverge from traditional film stills.
Sultan’s work continues to resonate, with selected images from his series regularly featured in exhibitions. His portrait of Wild is currently on display at the Yancey Richardson Gallery in New York as part of the gallery’s 30th anniversary show. Through his lens, Sultan not only documented the adult film industry but also posed questions about identity, belonging, and the interplay between public and private spaces.
The legacy of Larry Sultan remains a testament to the complexities of human experience, artfully blending the worlds of suburban life and adult entertainment into a compelling narrative that continues to captivate audiences.