In the pantheon of 20th-century artists, few names carry as much cultural weight—or as much joyful, defiant controversy—as Touko Laaksonen, known universally as Tom of Finland. By 2017, decades after his death in 1991, his iconic, hyper-muscular men in tight leather and ripped denim had already graduated from the underground pages of beefcake magazines to the glossy walls of high fashion and pop music videos. However, it was the specific events of 2017 that served as a tectonic shift, cementing his legacy not merely as an illustrator of homoerotic fantasy, but as a master artist who redefined masculinity, freedom, and resistance.
Here is a detailed look at why the year 2017 was the definitive moment for Tom of Finland.
One of the most compelling aspects of the film is the juxtaposition between Touko Laaksonen (the man) and Tom of Finland (the persona).
Finally, no review of Tom of Finland in 2017 is complete without mentioning the digital revolution. In 2017, the official Tom of Finland Foundation launched a massive digital archival project. High-resolution scans of thousands of drawings, many never seen before, were uploaded to the internet.
For the first time, scholars could zoom in on the cross-hatching of a bicep or the gleam on a boot. But this act of preservation also meant the death of the "original." In 2017, Tom’s work became a meme. His characters were photoshopped, edited, and shared infinitely on Tumblr (before the NSFW ban) and Twitter.
In a way, this was the final realization of Tom’s fantasy. He always dreamed of a world where men could love men openly, publicly, and joyously. In 2017, that world was not real—the news was too dark for that. But for a few minutes a day, as a teenager scrolled through a re-drawn Tom of Finland man fighting a dragon or holding hands with a boyfriend, the fantasy lived.
In 2017, nearly three decades after his death, Touko Laaksonen—known universally as Tom of Finland—finally received the widespread institutional validation that had eluded him during his lifetime. While his hyper-masculine, erotic drawings of bikers, lumberjacks, and sailors had circulated in leather bars and tucked inside wallets since the 1950s, 2017 marked a pivotal turning point. It was the year the underground became undeniable, as major retrospectives, international postage stamps, and a biographical film propelled his work from the shadowy margins of gay subculture into the bright light of global art history.
The most significant event of 2017 was the opening of the retrospective Tom of Finland: The Pleasure of Play at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo (MOT). This was notable not only for its scale but for its location. In a country with a complex and often conservative stance on LGBTQ+ representation, a major state-run museum hosted a comprehensive exhibition of work defined by overt homoeroticism and leather-clad masculinity. The exhibition framed Laaksonen not merely as an erotic illustrator, but as a formal artist who subverted the visual language of Fascist and Nazi propaganda—specifically the work of sculptor Arno Breker—to reclaim power and eroticism for gay men. By placing his drawings alongside his influences (Cocteau, Schiele) and contemporaries (Mapplethorpe), MOT argued that Tom of Finland’s linework, use of negative space, and construction of heroic archetypes deserved serious art-historical consideration. tom of finland -2017-
Simultaneously, Finland’s postal service, Itella, issued three Tom of Finland stamps as part of a series celebrating “Erotica.” This act of national endorsement was stunning in its simplicity: the country that had once institutionalized him for being gay (Laaksonen was forced to hide his homosexuality during military service) was now affixing his art to everyday envelopes. The stamps featured a smirking sailor and a shirtless lumberjack, transforming homosexual desire into mundane, state-sanctioned postage. This move sparked global debate. Critics argued that the stamps domesticated his radical eroticism, sanitizing the dangerous, pre-Stonewall subtext for mass consumption. Supporters countered that seeing a Tom of Finland man on a letter was a profound victory for visibility—a quiet, powerful declaration that gay male sexuality, with all its leather-and-lace code, belonged to the national identity of a progressive Nordic nation.
Beyond the museum and the mailbox, 2017 saw the wide release of Tom of Finland, a feature-length biographical drama directed by Dome Karukoski. Unlike previous documentary treatments, this film sought to humanize the artist behind the myth. It traced his journey from the trauma of WWII to the liberating underground of Los Angeles and his eventual recognition. Crucially, the film did not apologize for his work’s contested elements—namely, accusations of fascist aesthetics and the erasure of body diversity. By showing Laaksonen as a shy, complex man whose art was a direct antidote to shame, the film introduced his imagery to a generation of queer youth who had grown up with Grindr and marriage equality, for whom Tom’s world seemed at once ancient and thrillingly authentic.
Why does 2017 deserve special focus? It is the year that Tom of Finland completed his migration from a subcultural secret to a global icon. By the 2010s, his silhouetted men with broad shoulders and tight pants had already been absorbed by fashion (Saint Laurent, Calvin Klein), music (Frank Ocean’s Blonde), and pop art. But 2017 was different: it was the year that institutions came to him. A major Tokyo museum, a European postal service, and a national film board all simultaneously decided that his work was worthy of their platforms. This cultural ratification occurred at a specific historical moment—just two years after the US Supreme Court legalized gay marriage, and amidst a global backlash from resurgent far-right movements. Tom of Finland’s exaggerated, confident, sexually sovereign male figures offered a defiant counter-narrative. They were not victims; they were heroes of their own erotic desire.
In conclusion, 2017 was not the year Tom of Finland was discovered, but the year he was canonized. The major exhibition in Tokyo, the controversial postage stamps in Helsinki, and the biopic on screens worldwide collectively dismantled the last barriers between “pornography” and “art,” between “subculture” and “nation,” between “shame” and “pride.” Looking back, 2017 stands as the moment when Touko Laaksonen’s leather-clad dreamers finally stepped off the secret sketchbook page and into the official history of art, proving that even the most forbidden images, seeded quietly over decades, can one day become part of a nation’s—and the world’s—cultural heritage.
In the context of 2017, " Tom of Finland " most prominently refers to the biopic film released that year, rather than a single specific drawing. Directed by Dome Karukoski, the film follows the life of artist Touko Laaksonen and his journey from the trenches of WWII to becoming a global queer icon.
If you are looking for specific artistic "pieces" associated with 2017, there are a few notable projects:
The Biopic Movie Poster: The official 2017 theatrical poster is a widely recognized piece of official imagery from that year. In the pantheon of 20th-century artists, few names
"The Man Behind Tom of Finland" Exhibition: In early 2017, Galerie Judin in Berlin hosted a major exhibition titled Touko Laaksonen: The Man Behind Tom of Finland, featuring preparatory drawings like Untitled (1978) and TOM’s Leather Guards #1 (1976).
Tom of Finland Reference Photos Zine: A limited-edition (500 copies) zine of his source material photos was released in 2017.
Iceland Exhibition: An exhibition in Reykjavík was also held in September 2017 to celebrate the artist's legacy. 2017 Touko Laaksonen The Man Behind Tom of Finland
Standing in the center of the 2017 retrospective in Copenhagen, one could look across the room and see a 16-year-old gawking next to a 70-year-old man wearing a leather vest he’d owned since 1979. That was the magic of Tom of Finland in 2017: he was simultaneously the future and the past.
Before 2017, Tom of Finland was considered a cult secret. After 2017, he was a national hero (Finland issued a postage stamp in his honor in 2014, but the 2017 film cemented his legacy at home), a fashion icon, and a fine artist.
The film begins with Laaksonen’s experience as a soldier during the Continuation War (1941–1944).
The following article explores the life and legacy of Touko Laaksonen , better known as Tom of Finland Here is a detailed look at why the
, with a focus on his cultural impact and the biographical film released in 2017. The Man Behind the Muscle: The Legacy of Tom of Finland
Tom of Finland (born Touko Laaksonen, 1920–1991) is recognized as one of the most influential artists of the 20th century for his groundbreaking depictions of the male figure and his profound impact on gay culture and liberation. 1. From Secret Drawings to Global Icon
Born in Kaarina, Finland, Laaksonen began drawing as a child, inspired by the rugged masculinity of local laborers. During World War II, he served as a lieutenant in the Finnish army, an experience that influenced his later work featuring men in uniform. Morally Erect - Lux Magazine
The 2017 biographical film Tom of Finland, directed by Dome Karukoski, offers a sweeping look at the life of Touko Laaksonen, the artist who revolutionized gay culture with his hyper-masculine, leather-clad illustrations. Spanning over 40 years, the film traces Laaksonen’s journey from a decorated soldier in World War II to a global underground icon who ultimately fanned the flames of the gay liberation movement. Plot and Historical Context
The movie begins with Laaksonen (played by Pekka Strang) returning to a repressive post-war Helsinki after serving as a second lieutenant in WWII. In a society where homosexuality was a criminal offense punishable by shame and imprisonment, Laaksonen found refuge in drawing stylized, muscular men—a stark contrast to the "effeminate" stereotypes often imposed on gay men at the time.
Key historical and narrative milestones in the film include:
Tom of Finland review – intriguing biopic of a gay liberation hero