In a bargain bin at East Village Books in 2007, we came across a book of photographs. It depicted a love affair between two young men who meet in an Italian town. One of them was a blond German in knee-socks who comes with his mother to pay a visit to the family villa, the other a dark-haired local he chances upon while wandering in the countryside.
Ich bin ein Junge, du bist ein Junge was on sale for five dollars, but we were too stingy to buy it. We would regret that decision in the years to come. We often found ourselves evoking these earnest young men awakening to the wonders of love in sun-drenched meadows and shady boschetti.
We did some research. Library catalogues listed a certain Gerd Berger as the photographer. As far as we could tell, this was Berger's only work. It also seemed to be the only title ever put out by its publisher, Gemian Verlag, in Hamburg. We found an ad for it in an old gay magazine, but we searched in vain for a copy. In the spring of 2014, we found one.
Berger's gauzy idyll has been with us since then, providing succor and distraction whenever we allow ourselves to pause from our various labors. When the time came to give this magazine a name, we decided to pay him the homage he was due.
Christopher van Ginhoven Rey