A tattooed person suspends from hooks, laying flat, one leg higher than the other. Their head is back, and they seem to be smiling, dark hair dangling like an anime character.

Author: BME

  • Suspensions & Me – Through the Modified Looking Glass

    Suspensions & Me

    Man must rise above the Earth -- to the top of the atmosphere and beyond -- for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives.

    Socrates

  • Lizardman Q & A, Round II – Through the Modified Looking Glass

    Lizardman Q & A
    Round II

    The soul, which to a reptile had been changed,
      Along the valley hissing takes to flight,
      And after him the other speaking sputters.

    Dante’s Inferno, Canto XXV

    People seemed to enjoy the first Q & A — or at the very least they were inspired to come up with questions of their own. I got more than five times as many questions when I asked for submissions this time around. I went through and answered every one of them and then selected the ones I liked best at the moment — that moment being sometime late Sunday night wanting to finish up and watch Adult Swim on Cartoon Network (Aqua Teen Hunger Force!). If you asked a question and it isn’t here, don’t fear. I have it, and my response, saved for future use.

    Let the games begin!


    wldfire_1: What future modifications other than finishing the tattooing do you have planned in your transformation?

    Finishing the tattooing is currently my main priority and other than that, some additional stretching of my piercings is the only definite plan left to be completed at this point. That said, I have a number of things under consideration and being researched, and I am always looking for future possibilities as they become available.

    glider: When you sent me this email over four years ago (on the 11th of March, 1998), did you have any idea of the sheer immensity of what you’d help start?


    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: another tongue

    Don’t know if you knew but there will be another split tongue very soon. I will be taking Essie (of r.a.b.) in to Dr. Busino to have her tongue split on Friday morning. The ball keeps rolling and gathering momentum…

    Erik

    I didn’t have clue it would go as far as it has gone and continues to go. I was still very much joking about armies of forked tongued people then while happily getting to show others a way towards enacting their desires.

    Clearly you are a role model for children, being bright and articulate, as well as unique, engaging, and funny to them. Children tend to want to emulate their idols; having pursued a university education yourself, is this something you would recommend? Has being “the academic freak” been helpful?

    The last thing I want to be is anyone’s idol. Influence is acceptable but idol is too much. Being ‘the academic freak’ has had some advantages. Primarily it provides me with a ‘degree’ (pun intended) of credibility in the eyes of many people who might otherwise simply dismiss me as a nut, loser, or whatever. It also makes for a nice media hook.

    My own feelings towards academia or more specifically the educational system in the US are fairly mixed. I think it suffers from a lot of fundamental problems and that in many cases people are better off getting away from it as much as possible. I come from a family of educators and while I respect their efforts they often seem like Sisyphus.

    If someone were to ask me if they should go to college or beyond I would have to say that it depends very heavily on what they really want to do and how much of a burden it will be — student loans should not be taken lightly. On the other hand, if you get a free ride (I got a full academic scholarship for my BA; my decision to take loans for graduate school was a mistake), take it and enjoy the experience.

    Why haven’t you worked more aggressively to complete the tattooing on your face? I think if it was me, I’d have completed my face before anything else since that’s what the public sees.

    Oddly enough it’s the “being seen” aspect that has slowed it down at times. Knowing that I would be in public would often tend to motivate me to not work on my face so as not to be putting a healing tattoo on display and be unshaven due to the healing process. I have tried to have the work done in a pattern in public areas in order to be a bit less piecemeal in appearance. Also, for awhile I was thinking of not tattooing my scalp and going with dyed hair but ultimately I did and that created a whole new area that needed to be done.


    What made you decide on the bluish green, versus a bright yellow-green like the background of your IAM page?

    Thanks to my tattooing I have become acutely aware of color perception variances and the impact of lighting — especially in photography. I chose a darker green because I liked the shade. It often appears a bit bluish in photos. One of the more common comments I get when people see me in person is that I am greener than they expected.

    nootrope: Don’t you wish you were a blue lizard, man?

    Nope.

    Cork: Do you ever hope to authenticate your appearance by going into further details with the scales, making them more realistic, and less of just a simple representation?

    Potentially, but I will be happy to get just the basic two tone coverage completed and then work from there.

    juniper: What types of foods spark nostalgia for you? Songs? Images? Smells?

    I am not a particularly nostalgic person but I know that part of my fondness for soft pretzels comes from pleasant childhood associations — the same for gummi bears and James Bond movies.

    Chan: Which modification has been your favorite/most successful, aesthetically and spiritually?

    Spiritually? Someone didn’t read my last column. As for the rest? Tongue splitting.

    ServMe: Is there a certain lizard characteristic that you have decided not to pursue due to the danger involved, or because you wouldn’t like the outcome? In other words, will you try to reflect a lizard as much as possible, or only use those parts that are of interest to you?

    I am only dealing with what interests me. It is a reptilian motif but obviously stylized a great deal.

    Mars: Having walked around with you in London, it appears to me that people seem more accepting and less fearful of you than some one with maybe only 25% tattoo coverage and a few facial piercings. Why do you think that is?

    It’s all in the presentation. Today it is a bit easier to attribute it to things like recognition but things today aren’t much different than before I became the media whore I am now. I have always said that the key is how you present yourself. Nine times out of ten when people treat you like a jerk it is not because you have modifications, it is because you are acting like jerk — walking around with some chip on your shoulder and not giving them the chance to be decent to you.

    Another theory I have is that it is easier for people to look at my project as just that — a project. It has an obvious theme and that reflects a certain amount of consideration. Even though this is the case for many other people, it is not as obvious to the casual observer and so instead of thinking ‘creative person with an overall goal’ they think ‘punk’ or ‘thug’ who doesn’t give a damn.

    Goblin: Say you’re given the opportunity to be a guest speaker at an elementary school. Can you sum up what your presentation would cover?

    I should probably mention that my Mom is an elementary school teacher and I have friends with kids in this age group, so it isn’t horribly uncommon for me to visit an elementary school. To answer your question, there are lots of subjects I could address, but given free range to choose for myself I would very likely do something along the lines of appreciating differences. I used to teach swimming for three year olds and up, and kid’s classes at my old dojo. I really enjoy working with kids under the right circumstances and have received a good deal of praise for my work.

    shawn.spc: I really enjoyed you on X-files. So, here’s my question &mdas Next time you come to Philly, I want you to get naked and run through Chinatown on a rampage, Godzilla style. Will you do it?

    This is why I love Shawn — he’s a bastard (I wasn’t on the X-files).

    I’ll do it if you run in front of me naked screaming ‘here lizard’ like that Taco Bell dog. Oh yeah, you pay the legal costs too.

    saram: What words of advice would you have for someone interested in attempting a full-body transformation through body modification?

    Get the rest of your life together first because the transformation will consume you otherwise. Plan, consider, revise, repeat. Find support before you begin. Think twice. Have a life besides the transformation project, in as much as it can take over your life at times the project itself is not a life or a solution.

    jasonthe29th: How do you think you would feel mentally if you did not have the modifications you have today and how would your everyday life be different.

    I think I would be able to find other ways to channel my ideas and drives since my modifications are not compulsive behaviors themselves but rather expressions of myself… Much like a painter who could no longer paint might turn to sculpting or composing. It is one thing to deny a particular method and another to deny the motivation. Probably the most significant change for me in daily life would be the lack of head turning, staring, and so on. Then again, I might get that anyway for doing something else that was bizarre!

    Athena: What is the biggest way your philosophical background affects your outlook on life, both as a modified man and as “just Erik”?

    I take philosophy very literally — love of wisdom. Wisdom for me is the practical interpretation and application of knowledge and experience. The experience of life, while an end in and of itself to me, can be further enhanced through the practice of philosophy.

    volatile: When will you be done? How will you know?

    I don’t know when, but when I am, I will know. I suspect it will be much like knowing when to walk away from a painting or a drawing.

    Sparkle And Fade: What did you dress up as for Halloween as a child?

    Something different every year. The one that stands out in my memory right now is Q-bert (with a big homemade paper-mache head).

    Vanilla: If you weren’t “The Lizardman” what do you believe you would be doing right now (employment and career wise)?

    I would probably still be trying to make it as an artist or performer of some sort even without the transformation. If that wasn’t making it, I would likely have gone back to night shifts at a warehouse — that gave me time and resources to do whatever I wanted.

    bullgod2481: If you could, would you take anything back/change anything/done anything different?

    Nothing significant.

    wave: Read any good books lately? What’s on your want-to-read list?

    I’m much less of a bookworm than I used to be — much of what I read now is reference or of a much shorter form (magazine articles, online essays, and so on). The books on my ‘to get to’ list are mainly instructional. The last thing I read (re-read actually) for pure pleasure was Siddhartha by Herman Hesse.

    lacerazor: What’s your middle name?

    Michael.

    quinnnchick: Will the Chicago Cubs win the World Series in our lifetime?

    I wouldn’t mind seeing baseball abolished, thus negating this question. I don’t like the game.

    anokfreak: What are your feelings towards, or opinions about people with very little modifications? For example the average person on the street with an eyebrow, or navel?

    I wrote a whole column about them last month. You can’t really judge someone by the amount or type of modification they choose — develop hunches maybe, at best. It takes far more information and interaction for me to hold any real convictions or opinions about them.

    Goat: If you were a rich man, would you biddy biddy biddy biddy biddy biddy biddy bum?

    Probably not — but then again, maybe once just to see.

    RenoSucks: This has nothing to do with the green, the tongue, or anything else really. I’d just like to know if you’re content with your life…maybe even happy?

    I’d say I’m happy. And, quite frankly, that is what matters.

    Meghan: When did you stop wearing underwear on a regular basis?

    Between 1992 and 1993.

    Nullius: Have you read the part in Dante’s Inferno (Canto XXV) where people are turned into reptiles and vice versa? When I read it I thought of you.

    I’ve read it but more or less forgotten about that part. Just goes to show how classic I am. Heh.

    Tammy: How do you feel when you see yourself on television? Do you even bother to watch the shows when they come on?

    I generally watch to see how the finished product came out — you really can’t tell at all during the filming. I am hypercritical of myself in such situations and often more pre-occupied with how ‘useful’ I think the piece was than thinking about being on TV as something cool. Any nitwit can get on TV (most do — just watch your local news, RealTV, whatever) but to have it actually mean something in terms of being entertaining or informative is a challenge.

    glider (again… heh): Along those lines, how do you feel being presented alongside furries? And how do furries respond to you?

    I have no problem being presented alongside them. I just don’t want myself or them misrepresented for our respective ideas and beliefs. Most furries I have met have been very enthusiastic about my work and incredibly nice.

    moof: Do you still want to finish your PhD at some point?

    Not really. I don’t need or particularly desire someone else to ‘certify’ my work in that way. I’d take an honorary degree (I’ll take pretty much anything free) or I’d at least seriously consider finishing if they waived the costs.

    Flat Stanley: Why is your girlfriend so damn cute?

    ‘Cause I know how to pick’em!

    Char the magicalest gnome: Why is my cat looking at me like I’m food?

    You are food.

    Fidget: At what age do you think it’s appropriate to let kids start major body modifications; the ones that are not easily reversible like standard lobe piercings?

    The real answer is that it varies from individual to individual. The socially practical answer is to set an arbitrary age which will be good enough for most. In order to avoid unnecessary hassles, I suggest people wait till at least eighteen but I have met a lot of people who weren’t close to ready in my opinion at thirty and some that were ahead of the game at fourteen.

    Anomis: How do you feel about binary gender identification? Do you feel people can be both, none or a third gender?

    To me gender is simply a matter of classification for convenience based on genetic make up — XX verus XY (versus XYY, etc). Anything beyond that is relative BS (that’s bullshit, not Bachelor of Science). The identification you are describing, I think, is not identifying with gender but with ascribed gender roles and possibly genital structure. To that I say — act as you want and change around your genitals as much as you like, and science will allow for. People can be whatever they want since it’s people that make up these things in the first place. To indelicately rip off Zen Buddism,

    Q: Who makes the grass green?

    A: You do.

    robert: What inspired you to become what you are today?

    Everything I have experienced up to this point. Seriously, I think looking for causation and singular causation in particular is very often a fruitless and often harmful process.

    sheduma: How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

    A woodchuck would chuck all the wood that woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. I love that rhyme.

    Also, how can I get my puppy to stop farting at night?

    Butt plug? Or maybe a change in diet.

    Pabloferreira: So far I’ve only heard about full body transformations similar to yours in the US. I know that there are some individuals who do take their body modifications pretty far in other regions but so far nothing like you or the Enigma. Do you know if there are similar individuals outside North America?

    There are people outside of North America doing extreme modifications and extensive transformations. I think the main reason you may not being seeing them is that the US is pretty much the media spotlight of the world. We, collectively, send out our stories all over the world but intake very few others and even then we re-package them as our own. It is just far easier to get high level (world wide) coverage in the States.

    eliz: What are your favorite season, favorite food, favorite TV show, favorite movie, and favorite book?

    Depends on geography but most places it will be fall, pizza, The Simpsons, it varies with mood, and The Illuminatus Trilogy by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson.

    rwwarren_01: Who is your favorite musician, band, or musical group?

    It’s dependent on mood, but I can almost always listen to anything by Rob Zombie, Tori Amos, Depeche Mode, Ministry, or Bach — and The Overture of 1812.





    Erik Sprague

    because the world NEEDS freaks…

    Former doctoral candidate and philosophy degree holder Erik Sprague, the Lizardman (iam), is known around the world for his amazing transformation from man to lizard as well as his modern sideshow performance art. Need I say more?

    Copyright © 2003 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published August 26th, 2003 by BMEzine.com LLC in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.



  • Lucifire – Queen of “Grotesque Burlesque” [Guest Column]

    Lucifire
    Queen of “Grotesque Burlesque”
    by Danielle Clark

    "Creative work is play. It is free speculation using materials of one's chosen form."

    – Stephen Nachmanovitch

    Sideshows play an important part in body modification culture. They not only give the “common folk” a way to interact with the modified in a positive manner but they also allow people to expand their definition of what a person is and how humans should be able to act. However, they seem to be dominated by males: Tim Cridland (The Torture King), Eric Sprague (The Lizardman), Paul Lawrence (The Enigma), Joseph Hermann (Mr. Lifto), and so on. Today we introduce to you someone you likely haven’t heard of before; a multi-talented sideshow performer, a singer, a fire breathing, scissor masturbating, blood letting, crotch grinding and incredibly captivating female performer — Lucifire.

    Working primarily out of the UK, Luci has taken the sideshow world by storm. She offers a fresh look into the darkly entertaining modified stage performer all wrapped up in a stunning package. She offers what can only be described as “Grotesque Burlesque” — a show guaranteed to tantalize.


    Danielle/BME: Can you give a little background on you, where you grew up, and your family life?

    Lucifire — fire breathing.Lucifire: I grew up in the middle of Scotland, out in the sticks. We moved around a fair bit when I was a kid, we lived in Dundee, then in an artist’s commune in a fishing village on the west coast of Scotland, then a few other places before settling in Carron Valley. It was seven miles to the nearest bus stop and my next-door neighbour on one side was a half a mile away. I guess I had too much time to myself. I didn’t mix much with kids my own age because there weren’t many around. I spent a lot of time in the company of adults and animals. My parents were both very artistic and well educated and encouraged me to be creative and freethinking. I was always the quiet one at the back of the class with my nose buried in a book, a shy retiring wallflower that drew weird pictures and wrote strange stories.

    My parents split up when I was five but I’ve always stayed in touch with my dad. I absolutely adore him and respect him as an artist and a human being. I don’t know anyone else with as much integrity. He lives in the Caribbean now with his girlfriend of fifteen years and I love going to see them. He plays music there and helps locals to record their own music.

    My mum remarried and her new husband was wonderful too. He treated my half sister (his daughter) and me totally equally and fairly, with a lot of love. I think he wished he had a son though; he bought me my first motorbike when I was twelve and never treated me as a girl. I spent a lot of happy times with him in the garage. Nowadays I spend a lot of happy times with him in the pub.

    I see a lot of my sister and although my mum and I don’t see much of each other we get on well. All of my family is very proud of me and support me in what I do.

    Danielle/BME: You had an interesting childhood, very open and with great creative influences in your parents and stepparent — in what ways did they help to influence and encourage you to the way you are today and the career path you ultimately chose?

    Lucifire: My dad was a community artist, setting up music and arts projects for kids, pensioners, the unemployed and anyone else that was interested. I’ve always been so amazed how my dad seems to know how to build anything. He has a wonderful combination of artistic and mathematical abilities. He bought me a keyboard and a computer when I was very young and taught me a lot about art and science and how they can combine. He showed me how to do graphics on a computer when I was a kid in the early eighties; as well as showing me how to build sculptures and taking me on his band’s gigs. I clearly remember being at gigs and hiding under the piano while he played and dodging his feet as he stomped, keeping time. When I first learned to breathe fire I told him proudly but he said, “Yeah, I used to do that but I can’t anymore because of my beard”. What an anticlimax, I thought he was going to be shocked or amazed. He’s a real big kid at heart. My dad and I both had Mohican haircuts at the same time, and I shaved my head for the first time around at his house with his clippers.

    My mother was a photographer that used to dress me up in silly outfits and take pictures. She helped me make lots of amazing fancy dress costumes. Also, because we lived in isolation she would stay up until the middle of the night talking to me about art, politics and humanity.

    My step-dad is how I described above.

    However, both my parents being artists, they encouraged me not to go into the arts professionally. They could see I had an aptitude for science and encouraged that instead. They wanted me to get a stable career and not have to struggle the way they did. When I finally changed direction and they could see my mind was made up they were totally supportive.

    Danielle/BME: It seems that most sideshow performers are well-educated and often quite worldly and willing to experiment and explore different venues. What education have you undertaken and in what areas?

    Lucifire: I was always top of my class in school, to such an extent that I was always the unpopular “geek” or brainy swot. I didn’t really study much and even deliberately did worse in some tests in an attempt to make more friends. I wanted to study veterinary medicine so I studied sciences, math, English and Latin at school and upon passing with flying colours was accepted on to a vet med course on condition that I take a year out first (as they thought I was too young).

    During my year out I started studying art and dance and was smitten. However I also left home and needed a job so I used my science background to get a chemistry job where I was sent on day release to study a national certificate in chemistry. I left that job when I was accepted to do a foundation dance course in Dundee. After that I had to leave Scotland to pursue dance training at the best institute the UK had to offer (in my opinion at the time) completing a contemporary dance degree at London Contemporary Dance School. Since then I’ve done several bits n’ pieces, including a B-Tec in fireworks and one in pyrotechnics. Oh, and I am a First Aid Medic and qualified Padi Rescue Diver.

    Danielle/BME: You are truly well educated for the field you’ve finally chosen. What did you do career-wise before starting to perform?

    Lucifire: Well, there was the previously mentioned flirtation with role of research chemist, working for United Distillers. I got to spend every day tinkering with vials of alcohol wearing a white lab coat with my thigh length stiletto boots peeking out the bottom. Hell, I was still a teenager and it made the day more exciting. Before that I even did a YTS (remember them?) at the local museum for a couple of months. I worked in a shop in Camden lacing customers into corsets while I was a student and busked breathing fire on the streets of London.

    Danielle/BME: You have had quite a varied work history; though all with an underlying theme it seems. Is there something that people are generally surprised to hear that you have done in your past for instance that you had worked as a research chemist for a time to help fund your way through dance school?

    Lucifire: The research chemist is always a bit surprising, but even more surprising I think is that I presented a GSCE chemistry programme for schools. They wanted a presenter that could breathe fire (the programmes were about elements and the periodic table) and when they realised I knew my shit they hired me instantly. Was kinda fun, mostly because I get to think about these teenage kids watching me on the TV at school talking about the periodic table and wondering if they can tell about my secret evil double life. In reality, kid’s TV presenting is probably more of a secret double life than my “normal” one which I hide from no one.

    Danielle/BME: You’ve since branched out of “normal” careers and settled into being a sideshow performer and general stage artist. Some of the work you do on stage with your “Grotesque Burlesque” features involves body modification. What was your first exposure to body modification in the personal and entertainment sense?

    Lucifire: Well that depends on what you count as body modification. I insisted that I get my ears pierced when I was five. My mum had a total of about nine piercings in her ears and I wanted some. After a nose piercing and countless ear piercings my first proper piercing was a tongue piercing about ten years ago, after I saw a friend’s tongue piercing. I’d never even heard of it before. After that I was hooked. As far as entertainment goes, I think the first body mod show I saw was Genitorturers at torture garden, probably about the same time. I’m not even sure how long I’ve been using piercing etc in my own shows, several years at least.

    Danielle/BME: What body modifications do you currently have?

    Lucifire: Stock take: piercings: three in my left ear, five in my right ear, one in my nose, a top lip frenulum thingy (which has been there for at least six years by the way), a 4ga tongue bar, a left nipple piercing and two in my right, a navel piercing, two clit hood piercings and one in the clit itself (I’ve have had several more done but taken out for aesthetic or practical reasons).

    I have a scarification of my Lucifire logo on my pubic area — done a few times but I don’t keloid as well as I’d like. That was done by Dave at Tusk Tattoo. He is a very talented artist and a wonderful person. I have countless work or fun related burns and scars.

    I have no ink! I have had an inkless tattoo done by Katzen the Tiger Lady on a day off on tour but it has disappeared now… lasted a good few months though. I have a drawing of a beautiful octopus tattoo that I’m going to have done very soon…inkless again, done by Dave from Tusk (again). Ink is just not my thing but I quite enjoyed the feeling and the ritual of being tattooed.

    Compared to a lot of my friends and colleagues I really am quite mod-free.

    Danielle/BME: Though I’m sure it has been a long time, do you recall what your first exposure to performance art, in a similar fashion to what you do, was?

    Lucifire: I saw a lot of weird theatre performance stuff when I was studying dance but the first full on performance art piece I really remember seeing was a show by Franko B (see our previous column) about eight years ago in London, in a little space upstairs on Tottenham court road. I remember thinking it was an amazing idea but too slow paced for my own taste. I love Franko’s stuff though but I always want to speed him up. What really got to me was seeing someone bleed slowly in front of me. Blood represents life force to me; it is quite intense to see someone’s life leaking away into a puddle on the floor.

    Danielle/BME: That is quite a powerful image. You use a lot of blood in your own acts; I can definitely see the parallel. What made you want to meld the two (body modification and performance art) for your personal acts?

    Lucifire: I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I’m not afraid of blood and I love its symbolism. I love making shows, especially shows that affect people deeply and strongly. There’s no better praise than a few fainters or vomiters, which means that the combination of reality overload and theatrical elaboration has done its job. I love the adrenaline of performance — couple that with doing scary stuff on stage and you get a double hit… yee-ha!

    Danielle/BME: You regularly engage in acts such as play piercing, bloodletting, and the like on stage — do you also enjoy these activities privately or are they only for the show?

    Lucifire: I do these things on stage because I have a fascination for them. Blood is a powerful symbol and I like to use it on stage and although I’ve done a fair bit in my personal life, I’m such an exhibitionist that it seems a shame to not share it with an audience. My first suspension was done privately but I did my first public one recently.

    Danielle/BME: While doing these more extreme acts such as play piercing, masturbation with scissors, bloodletting, and general blood play are you ever concerned about cross contamination?

    Lucifire: I’m absolutely terrified of cross contamination. I always go to extreme lengths to ensure that any real blood used in a show is carefully contained and that no cross contamination occurs. This is especially hard when you have to make it not dictate or spoil the form of a show or it’s narrative. The end result makes it worthwhile though.

    All equipment is sterile and we always perform completely sober and straight. The lunacy you see on stage is all natural. Despite all that I still get myself tested regularly. You can’t be too careful. The bugger is that I can’t give blood anymore; they won’t take your blood if you’ve been pierced within the past six months, and I really have no problem with giving some away. Actually I thought about becoming a phlebotomist (person that takes blood) myself, to hone my blood taking skills.

     

    Masturbating with Scissors and Blootletting

     

    Danielle/BME: You have a world of experience in so many different areas. You are not just a stage performer but also an artist as well. You are in a band, you do photography, and you are naturally a model for your own website and your new project Scarlet Mews. Regarding art and art forms, you recently asked at your online journal, “What is the difference between art, erotica and pornography?” How do you yourself define the differences?

    Lucifire: Well, that’s a big ole can of worms. Although there are legal definitions, generally I think it’s quite subjective. British law defines pornography as an erect penis or open vulva. Generally I’d agree with that. I think it also mentions something about “designed specifically to cause sexual arousal”. If there’s more than just that intention then it’s possibly crossing into erotica or art.

    For myself I see pornography as being quite obvious, direct and often not very beautiful. My idea of erotica is something less direct where suggestion and sensuality and beauty are the overriding concerns. I would see art as being more concerned with the message or medium rather than arousal. It’s all very muddy and one person’s art may be someone else’s pornography. I think erotica lies somewhere in the middle. I would be happy to show and discuss art or erotica with my parents; I would feel uncomfortable doing the same with pornography.

    Danielle/BME: Your current look could be described as both artistic and erotic. You used to have quite a different look from what you have now. What triggered the dramatic transformation to über-femme and how has it changed how your audiences receive you?

    Lucifire: I didn’t see my transformation as all that dramatic, it happened over a period of time. When I was younger I was a raging killer feminist. I had a lot to prove about female strength, independence and ability. Tank Girl was my teen idol, along with Ripley from Alien.

    Over the years I would sometimes get into fancy dress as a “girl” just for a laugh. I did it more and more and got to like it. I was also getting quite heavily into the swing scene and loved the fashion. I had less to prove about my own strength and found it was even more subversive to look like an “über-femme” but do really hardcore things. It messes with people’s heads but is also more accessible.Luci

    “Straight” audiences will accept you easier if you look sweet n’ pretty but they find it harder to reconcile what you look like with what you do. It’s easy to understand and dismiss a butch girl doing butch or scary stuff; I love confusing them and breaking their preconceptions. If I can make someone question their stereotypes I’ve done a great job.

    I looked like a baby Tank Girl for years and years. I had a shaved head with 2 little red horns, wore ripped tight shorts n’ braces, little bra tops and big bike boots. Most of my clothes came from army surplus stores.

    Nowadays most of my clothing comes from vintage shops or I make myself from vintage patterns. I have shoulder length hair that is usually set in 40′s styles with rollers. I find it highly amusing that I am so granny-like, stocking up on setting lotion and gin. My hair is still bright fire red though and I still have my piercings. I am not trying to step back in time, just drag the 40′s and 50′s kicking and screaming into my world.

    Danielle/BME: You seem to incorporate an element of sexuality into all facets of your art, from your onstage performances to the photographic sessions you in which you are the subject. Why is this?

    Lucifire: I am fascinated by sexuality, gender, and what is deemed acceptable or arousing. I admit I’ve traded heavily on sex in my career for a couple of reasons; I am a very sexual person and can’t think of a more exciting and universal subject matter — it is easier to get into people’s heads and have them accept what you are doing if they find you sexually attractive. It messes with their heads when you are both sexy and repulsive at the same time, hence my term “Grotesque Burlesque”.

    Sex is a great leveler in life. Almost everyone wants it, although I’ve discovered not many people are obsessed with it as I am. It’s been a big problem in my love life, finding someone or some two/three with an appetite to match mine.

    Danielle/BME: Scarlet Mews is a new project of yours. What influenced you to get into producing erotica for the sake of art and erotica (as opposed to being erotic in your performance)?

    Lucifire: I think this is just my most recent exploration into sexuality. I’ve reached a point where I feel comfortable in accepting my obsession with sex and have found a way to not only make it a business, but a business that allows me to flex a lot of creative muscles at the same time. Scarlet Mews will not just be a bunch of dirty pictures, but artfully and cleverly designed photo and video shoots as well as short stories and poetry. It encompasses all the arts (except music, at this stage I’ll save that for my band). I’m always looking for new projects; this is my current one.

    Danielle/BME: I’m looking forward to seeing it advance. From the photos that are there of you, and those at your personal site one can easily see that you are in phenomenal physical shape; naturally this is necessary for your work. Do you do any special training to stay in top condition?

    Lucifire: I go through phases of exercising. I trained as a dancer full time for several years so that got me into good shape then, the constant lugging of heavy cases and bags of kit (steel plates and power tools are pretty heavy you know), over the years I’ve done kickboxing, capoiera, yoga and lots of gym training, even the odd ballet class just to keep myself on top of things. At the moment pretty much all my training is sexcercise, there just aren’t enough hours in the day!

    Danielle/BME: I hear that in itself can be phenomenal exercise. I can imagine that some of your stage work requires you to have a calm and clear mind. Do you engage in any form of meditation or centering activities to help you to focus better both in your personal life and in your performances?

    Lucifire: The nearest I get to meditation is writing lists, I do that almost religiously and it makes me feel relaxed and that everything is under control.

    Danielle/BME: I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one who does that. It definitely helps to ease one’s worries. You’ve done a variety of different acts both on and off the stage; what’s the scariest thing you have done during a performance?

    Lucifire: Every new show is terrifying, especially when there are other people in the show and we need to co-ordinate. Every time I try a stunt for the first time it’s scary but that usually passes quickly. Singing on stage the first few times was probably more terrifying for me than any stunt. The thing that still scares me is sticking a needle into my vein in my arm and draining it. It’s the psychological thing of messing with veins that’s scary, I’ve had a bad haematoma from it before and it scared me, thinking I was going to get collapsed veins or something. Stupid I know, junkies do it all the time and they’re not always in top mental form. I think it’s a mental barrier.

    Another scary thing is when you come off stage and you have no idea what you just did because you were so transported by the moment, sometimes I can hardly even speak. This is particularly scary when you have injuries and you don’t know how or when. These are special occasions and I treasure them — these are the shows that keep me going, the reason I started and the reason I continue.

    Danielle/BME: You must have quite a few stories to tell.

    Lucifire: I remember one time being on tour with Killing Joke and suddenly being aware of where I was and what I was doing. I was at an outdoor rock festival in Belgium I think, the sun was shining and it was nearing the end of their set and I’d climbed up the lighting truss at the side of the stage with a mouthful of fuel and a lit torch, I was painted bright blue and wearing just a small loincloth, thirty feet up in the air hanging upside down from just the back of one knee, breathing fire. I was suddenly shocked by the fact I was there and how stupidly dangerous it was… for so many reasons. I loved that tour.

    Danielle/BME: That sounds amazing. Though not quite exactly the same there are other artists who do similar work; Steve-O (see our interview with Steve-O from earlier this year), Eric Sprague (The Lizardman), and Tim Cridland (The Torture King) being just a few of those. Are you familiar with them and what do you think of the work that they do?

    Lucifire: I’ve never seen any of the above mentioned live but I’ve seen them all on TV and met Lizardman briefly and Tim. I think Tim does amazing stunts. His Sufi training and his dedication has enabled him to do the most incredible piercing shows… not just piercing the skin but right through the middle of limbs.

    Danielle/BME: It’s amazing stuff. Considering all you’ve seen and done thus far is there much that you are still curious about that you have seen and want to try?

    Lucifire: Bungee jumping, parachuting, having kids, running my new website, bigger shows… everything I haven’t done yet.

    Danielle/BME: What performances have you seen that you admire, but that you yourself would be hesitant to do?

    Lucifire: Sword swallowing (I tried but didn’t like it, too much gagging), contortion such as Daniel Browning Smith (the Rubber Boy — because he’s an amazing performer, but also I just couldn’t ever physically do what he does), Tom Comet’s shows where he catches a bowling ball on his face, balances a running lawnmower on his upper lip and juggles chainsaws. Tim Cridland’s piercing shows.

    Danielle/BME: At the time I sent this interview to you, you hadn’t yet experienced flesh-hook suspension. Now that you have what do you think about it and how has it changed you?

    Lucifire: I did a suspension on a day off during the first “modern primitives” tour. John Kamikaze was doing a two-hook suspension every night in the show and was joking around with some of the other guys about them doing it. I wasn’t going to let an opportunity like that go by so I got him to string me up on a day off. It was just for fun, only a couple of friends were there and I used eight hooks instead of two, since I was just a beginner. I stayed up for about half an hour and it was a really amazing experience, feeling the waves of pain wash over me. It doesn’t so much hurt, as throb and pulse in waves. Hard to describe and very intense, not something I’d want to do everyday but I knew I’d definitely do it again.

    Danielle/BME: That sounds familiar, most people who do suspensions can’t quite describe the sensations afterwards but they pretty much always want to give it another go. You did another suspension recently — however this time you decided to do it publicly. How was that for you?

    Suspension.Lucifire: The one I did recently was at the Metal Hammer Awards where I did an upright suspension from six-hooks, once more by Dave Tusk (can you guess yet?). It was all over a bit too quick — I didn’t want to come down. I did a “strung-up pin-up”. I was dressed in a sumptuous sequined burlesque outfit, dripping in diamantes, corseted and wearing glittering high heels. The suspension rig was decked out in white flowers and as the hooks were put in I posed sweetly and sang “I’ve got you under my skin”. The problem I have with a lot of “body art” acts, is that they take too long and lose their impact on the crowd and become self indulgent. It’s hard to find a way of presenting it quickly and powerfully. Allen Falkner of TSD is a master of that but his style is his own and would not work for me so I’m trying to develop this new strung up pin up style.

    Danielle/BME: That sounds amazing — you can definitely put on an eye-catching show. Considering some of the other acts you do on stage I can’t see a flesh suspension as being your most “out there” and controversial act, however Miss Bathory, Rosemary’s Baby, and the Siamese Twins definitely come to mind. What would you consider your most controversial act?

    Lucifire: I don’t consider anything I do as being very “out there”, every thing has come into existence through an organic process; it all makes perfect sense to me because I know the background.

    Miss Bathory was very disturbing for the audience though. Xena’s (The Warrior Princess) stuntwoman was in the front row and passed out in the first five-minutes — that was a real compliment. A lot of our friends were so disturbed by it they had to leave halfway, and others wanted to “rescue” us. I think that was because, as well as all the blood play, the Floating in a tank of blood.characters were all very disturbed women.

    Rosemary’s baby was just a tribute to a film, although quite a gory and fun one.

    As for the Siamese twins, I adore them. I love the characters and I love the show. Whenever I see them on video I still laugh out loud. That’s quite something when you created them and know them inside out. The show is so funny that it doesn’t seem harmful to me at all. Although I am not a “born freak” I feel the show was made very sympathetically, and I’ve worked in the Freakshow business for long enough to respect others’ conditions. It was not only a show about freaks and how we perceive them, but a metaphor for living with an incompatible other half, whether that is a sibling, lover, or your own darker side. That’s if you can be bothered to think about it, otherwise it’s just a grotesque comedy.

    Then again, masturbating a girl with a pair of scissors on stage until her eyes bleed I guess could be seen as a little “out there”!

    Danielle/BME: I could definitely see that as being considered a little bizarre. With all of these acts you play with the very real risk of extreme physical deformity, injury, and death. I assume that you are relatively at peace with the idea of death. Despite that, you must have some tangible fears?

    Lucifire: Regrets, finding out that I missed out on something, being old and wishing I had the courage to follow my dreams.

    Danielle/BME: I think many people share those fears. Despite how they may look, your performances aren’t about causing you pain — how would you define the acts that you do and why you do them?

    Lucifire: I do what I do to entertain and to ask questions. I don’t have all the answers. That’s why I ask them. I want to show people new things and new ways of thinking; I want to point out the wonder of the human body and what it can do, and of course because it gives me a buzz.

    Danielle/BME: If you can’t enjoy it there’s no point in doing it. When your performance time is up, do you have a retirement plan or another career you will pursue?

    Lucifire: I’ll think of something, and it will be the right thing because it will result out of who I have become. I will not be the same person in ten years time, so how can I decide what that person will do?

    Danielle/BME: That’s a good point. I’m sure twenty years ago you didn’t see yourself where you are now. Eventually, as morbid as this is, you will die — do you have any special requests for when that happens?

    Lucifire: When I die I want to be cremated and have my ashes put into a firework so I can be exploded over the sky. I think that would be very in keeping with my life and everyone close to me adores fireworks and explosives, I think it would be a fitting end.

    Danielle/BME: What do you want people to say about you when you die?

    Lucifire: That I had a good life and I was a good person.

    Danielle/BME: I can’t see them saying otherwise. You have been great to get to know and I definitely wish you the best in your future endeavors. Thank you so much for taking the time to complete this interview with me. For the reading audience as a recap, what types of events do you entertain at and how can an interested person book you for an event or get ahold of you?

    Lucifire: I do a lot of shows at fetish events, gay clubs, artsy or alternative cabarets, tattoo conventions and private parties. Anyone interested in booking me can contact me at [email protected].


    Lucifire.com

    Note that Lucifire does not limit herself to the UK or Scotland, she has performed all around the world. Find out more about her at her personal website Lucifire.com, her online livejournal, or her newest site Scarlet Mews.



    Luci was interviewed by Danielle Clark (iam:Vanilla) through a series of e-mail correspondence. All photos are copyright protected and owned by Lucifire.


    Copyright © 2003 Danielle Clark and BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published online August 20th, 2003 by BMEzine.com LLC in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.

  • Contemporary Blood Letting

    As part of an ongoing investigation into private rituals and public spaces, this article will consider the growing interest in Live Art in which the artists use their own bodies as the site of inquiry. Social taboos such as bloodletting, self-flagellation and body modification will be considered, alongside the objections to this particular practice.Live Art has its history in the performance art practice of the 1970′s. Informed by the work of such artists as the Viennese Aktionists, Coum Transmissions and Chris Burden, the artists who engage in this particular practice choose to use their own bodies, pushing the boundaries of social taboo. Creating more of an interrogation than a dialogue, the spectator is forced into making choices about questions of identity and difference and the nature of mortality.

    In order to negotiate these particular practices has proved problematic, as the performances now only exist in a fragmentary way within photographs and videos. Of course, this documentation is not the performance itself. A photograph or video is a snapshot of time and cannot be totally representative. In an age of mass information overload, where we have become de-conditioned to atrocities committed in the name of politics, global terrorism and famine, the ‘news’ documentation played back on radio and television does not tell the real story. We are conditioned to objectify violations of the body and remove ourselves from immersion in such actions and feelings. The curators (journalists and TV news presenters) of this spectacle manipulate our points of view, numbing us to the reality of events happening in distant countries to ‘the other’.

    The use of blood within Live Art forces the viewer into re-considering their own bodily vulnerability and to question issues of gender roles. As Live Artists use their own bodies as a site for inquiry, there is an immediacy of similarity between the viewers and viewed, which does not require any academic training to understand. As such, immediate actions onto the body have generated a discourse that reaches beyond the confines of the Fine Art arena. Press interest has created a reputation for these artists that places them as ‘the other’ onto which we can project our own fears about bodily invasion and destruction, where we can directly experience such violent actions by attending a performance, not constructed and removed from reality in the manner television forces us to.

    Artists such as Franko B and Ron Athey provoke such a discourse, but one that is fuelled by reputation rather than experience. A sense of control, which could easily lapse into chaos, is the constant concern of such direct actions onto the body. With the disneyfication of difference so prevalent within Western culture, these artists are seeking to re-address the balance and re-affirm their own identities, using taboos such as blood, nakedness and socially sanctioned ‘self-harm’ to explore their own bodies. Traditional Fine Art notions of ‘the space’ and ‘the body’ become ‘this space’ and ‘this body’.

     

    Ron Athey’s practice is informed by his years of heroin addiction, a fundamentalist pentecostal upbringing, his mother being an institutionalised schizophrenic and ultimately his diagnosis of HIV fifteen years ago. His performances seek to negotiate his relationship to these events, creating a theatre of spectacle in which the viewer is implicated. His use of religious tableau to address these issues further enhances notions of social taboo and stigma. Disussing the idea of theatre and performance as cathartic methods of expression, Athey states,

     

    "Like the plague, the theatre is the time of evil, the triumph of dark powers that are nourished by a power even more profound until extinction...The theatre like the plague, is in the image of this carnage and this essential separation. It releases conflicts, disengages powers, liberates possibilities, and if these possibilities and these powers are dark, it is the fault not of the plague nor of the theatre, but of life".

    (Exposures, 2002, pg 6)

    In “Four Scenes from a Harsh Life” he inserts 30 hypodermic needles into his arm, referencing his time as an intravenous drug user. He then, with the help of his ‘medical’ staff, inserts a crown of ‘thorns’ (hypodermic needles again), enacting Christ’s death. As he collapses on the floor, his assistants cover him with a white shroud and he is carried to the centre of the stage. After a short while he is cleansed with water and is ‘resurrected’.

    During “Nurses’ Penance,” he re-creates the institutional terror of a hospital setting, with a patient brutalized by huge drag-queen nurses with sewn-together lips. In another piece he’s writhing naked, on one end of a double-headed dildo. His richest source for material, though, is the church. Most of his pieces have religious names like ‘Martyrs and Saints’ and ‘Deliverance’, along with characters like St. Sebastian, who’s martyred with a literal crown of thorns that causes blood to rain onto his face and the floor. Much of his work is driven by a sense of martyrdom and, arguably, a self-hate instilled on him from childhood.

    Athey attracted international attention in 1994, after a Minneapolis performance in which he sliced into the back of a fellow performance artist, placed strips of paper towel over the wounds and then hoisted the bloodied strips of paper towel, via pulley, over the heads of the audience. Though no blood dripped down onto the audience, and though the performer who was cut was HIV negative, Athey’s own HIV positive status led one audience member to claim that the crowd had been spattered with HIV-positive blood.

    Within these performances, the spectator is forced into a position of passive voyeurism. The audience act as conduits for this dialogue that is critical to Athey’s performances. Whilst Athey maintains the power, the audience are left helpless as he metamorphoses himself, through methods of live body modification. Although Athey presents himself to us as an artist, he is also allowing us to observe a process of healing and catharsis. Though Athey does not use documentation in a way that is representative (ie he doesn’t exhibit this work in a gallery), videos of his work provide us with a snapshot of the experience of his performances. His use of theatre to present the ‘real’, adds further signifiers to his work. Referencing notions of catholic ritual and linking this to the idea of Christ as drug taker (although by inference) he opens up a discourse on the nature of religion and its use of ritual.

    The use of blood in Franko B’s performances operates as a different signifier. Franko B is not HIV+ and he uses blood as an affirmation of life. His short pieces involve cutting, scarification and other apparent S/M practices. The direct use of his body in these performances removes any notions of ‘representation’. In order to fully experience Franko B, one has to be present as part of a complete visual, physical and emotional immersion in the work.

    His performances such as ‘I Miss You’, when he walks down a canvas in a room set up like a fashion show, with photographers situated at one end, to heighten the sense of voyeurism, seek to implicate the viewer further. ‘Oh Lover Boy’ sites Franko as an ‘artists model’. To quote from Gray Watsons interview with Franko B,

     

    "Oh Lover Boy is going to be a performance piece where again, the body is presented: it's there on the table. It is there for you to take, in a way, either to draw or to look at...the set-up is going to be almost like a life-drawing class but there is also a clinical side, where it is like you are looking at a body. But it is not passive; it is not a dead body, in a way it's giving life by bleeding. And he's looking at you".

    (Gray Watson, 2000)

    Franko’s performances reference his childhood being brought up by the Red Cross. Using a diatribe of medical equipment such a syringes, drip stands and wheel chairs, Franko re-enforces notions of healing, but also control, amidst the perceived chaos of his performances. He can only perform three times a year because of the amount of healing that needs to take place after his performances.

    Franko’s other work, (which is regularly exhibited, unlike Ron Athey’s documentation) consists of collages and installations. His collage work, references his ‘real’ experiences, and documents his whole life. This again raises issues of vulnerability, as he is leaving nothing to the imagination. Flyers from his performances and pictures of ‘boys I went out with’ (Gray Watson, 2000) mingle with images of religious artefacts and blood stained sheets from his performances.

    Issues of power arise here, as the viewer is implicated in the performance by default. Franko appears as helpless and vulnerable, but also has power over his audience. If Franko performed in the street, the context would be different and issues of legality would be raised. This issue of contextualisation also raises issues of safety and notions of control and chaos.

    Both Ron Athey and Franko B have ‘medical’ helpers during their performances. They act as signifiers within the performance, to connote to the viewer notions of control and safety. This safety angle is always printed on the flyers, to reassure the viewer. There is a paradox here, as the people that are supposed to ‘help’ during Franko B’s performance, also cut him with a razor during ‘Oh Lover Boy’. The medical helpers are in fact trained body-piercers, with basic anatomy training. As soon as this fact has been established during the performance, these signifiers change.

    Both Athey and Franko B as gay men question the nature of masculinity. At their performances, it is the men who recoil against the walls of the venue, normally in foetal positions, returning to maternal signifiers as if about to be castrated. The spilling of blood, whatever the connotation intended by the artist, has the effect of rendering the audience impotent, either to their own bodies or to the performance itself. They cannot help the performers, even though they feel their natural reaction is to do so.

    There is also a sense that the performers are acting ‘privately’ and the viewer is intruding into a sacred shamanic ritual. Shamanism is normally associated with women, blood letting during menstruation being an important part of ‘walking with the spirits’. Although, shamans tend to operate outside the confines of accepted social practice, they act as a conduit to ‘other-worldly’ access and are relied upon by the rest of the tribe to maintain a sense of unity. Within the framework of Live Art, the performers provide this access so that the viewers themselves can reach the dark underworld of the shaman. Within Western culture, it appears that men are not supposed to reveal their feelings, let alone share any intimate details about themselves with the outside world. By the direct action onto their bodies and the use of blood, Franko and Athey challenge this notion.

    The letting of blood is seen as ‘unclean’. This mythology probably originated in the Old Testament where it is seen that,

     

    "She is to be 'put apart for her uncleanness' for seven days".

    (Lev. 18:19)

    "Any man who lies with her during this time is also unclean for seven days, anyone who touches her is unclean till the evening, and everything that she sitteth upon shall be unclean".

    (Lev. 15:19-24)

    Throughout the history of art we have encountered images of blood from the earliest cave paintings through centuries of biblical images and through to war films such as Apocalypse Now. It both fascinates us and repulses us. It has come to represent both the sacred and profane. Live Artists use this dichotomy as a way of personal transformation. At the performances there is a sense of sacredness that transcends orthodox religious methods. This could explain why the Christian Church is opposed to such direct actions onto the body. It appals them that something non-religious can actually achieve the same transcendental experience that religion is supposed to offer. In Judaeo-Christian cultures, blood ‘sacrifice’ cannot be culturally sanctioned because of notions of idolatry, where the artist are using their own bodies to ‘redeem’ themselves as opposed to appeals to God.

    In his book ‘Violence and the Sacred’, Rene Girards’ theory of sacrifice states,

    "The physical metamorphoses of spilt blood can stand for the double nature of violence...Blood serves to illustrate that the same substance can stain or cleanse, contaminate or purify, drive men to fury and murder or appease their anger and restore them to life"

    (Girard, 1972)

    The process of purification that the artists are trying to achieve can sometimes fail, not providing the audience with the signifier of life that blood performances seek to inform the viewer about. The aforementioned performance by Ron Athey called ‘Martyrs and Saints’ which used supposed HIV blood being heaved across the heads of the audience on a pulley system created an outcry. This could be because the blood was seen as ‘polluted’, making the ‘artist an unacceptable surrogate sacrificial victim for a healthy community’ (Dawn Perlmutter, 2000). In a sense, the signifier contained within the blood changed its meaning and the ritual which was meant to be a demonstration of transcendence through bodily mutilation failed. The distance between the observer and observed was very wide and the artists role as shaman became disjointed, hence the public outcry. The success of such actions is dependent on the audience feeling close to the Live Artists performance.

     

    The antagonism towards Live Art does not detract from the fact that Live Art is a growing method of expression. It could be seen as an attempt to disrupt societal and personal boundaries through methods of physical sacrifice and as a process of purification. Although sometimes the ritual, as in Athey’s case, can fail, it is still a ritual which people observe. With the growth of interest in body piercing and tattooing due largely to information being disseminated via the internet, what was once the reserve of underground S/M clubs has now become an overground method of artistic practice. There is an obvious need for people to get back in touch with their own bodies as the site of inquiry, as is evidenced by the recent series of events at the Tate Modern, running over the course of a weekend at the end of March this year called ‘Live Culture’. This exhibition brought together Live Artists from various schools, to inform, perform and debate. Depending on audience interest, the movement will continue to undermine social convention and will move away from the purely aesthetic and personal transformation on the part of the artists, into the realms of communal transformation.

    Jason Oliver
    May 2003


    References

    Bibliography

    • Danto, Arthur C (1986). The Philosophical Disenfranchisement of Art. Columbia University Press: New York.
    • Eliade, M (1987). The Encyclopedia of Religion. Macmillan Publishing Co: New York.
    • Stuart, H (1997). Representation, Cultural Represenations and Signifying Practices. Bath Press Colourbooks: Glasgow.
    • Keidan, L, Morgan, S and Sinclair, S. (1998). Franko B. Black Dog Publishing: London.
    • V, Manuel, Watson, G and Wilson, S. (2001). Franko B – Oh Lover Boy. Black Dog Publishing: London.
    • V,Vale and Juno, A. (1989). Modern Primitives, An Investigation of Contemporary Adornment and Ritual: Re/Search Publications: San Francisco, CA.
    • Wollheim, R. (1980). Art And Its Objects. University Press: Cambridge.

    As part of his thesis on the ‘Body as Transformative Object’ Jason is looking for people involved with the body modification community who class themselves as artists. These can be either people who modify others, or who are modified themselves, surgically or otherwise, performers, suspension crews, or any others who see what they do as an art form. I am particularly interested in people that push boundaries that little bit further.

    I am looking for people who are willing to take an email-based interview on their motivations, their experiences and why they see their modifications as an art form.

    The thesis will be written over the period September-December of this year. All artists interviewed will be fully credited and a copy of the thesis will be given to all those taking part. Contact coldcell for further details.

    coldcell-biopicJason Oliver is currently working on his BA (Hons) Graphic Fine Art course in London, UK. His main areas of concern are ritual, body modification, and performances linking the two. He is researching social taboos and the general public’s response to direct actions onto the body and has a special interest in the use of blood, both in art and in ‘tribal’ rituals and how it acts as different signifiers depending on cultural context.

    He is an active opponent to cultural appropriation of body ritual, finding it both undermining and patronising but instead explores the role that modification plays to himself personally, without cultural references, by pushing his body into new areas of experience, with documentation being a pre-requisite.

    This article was written as a precursor to his thesis, currently entitled ‘The Body as Transformative Object’. You can find Jason on IAM as coldcell.

    Copyright © 2003 Jason Oliver and BMEZINE.COM. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published online August 20th, 2003 by BMEZINE.COM in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.

  • Contemporary Blood Letting [Guest Column]

    Contemporary Blood Letting
    by Jason Oliver

    As part of an ongoing investigation into private rituals and public spaces, this article will consider the growing interest in Live Art in which the artists use their own bodies as the site of inquiry. Social taboos such as bloodletting, self-flagellation and body modification will be considered, alongside the objections to this particular practice.

    Live Art has its history in the performance art practice of the 1970′s. Informed by the work of such artists as the Viennese Aktionists, Coum Transmissions and Chris Burden, the artists who engage in this particular practice choose to use their own bodies, pushing the boundaries of social taboo. Creating more of an interrogation than a dialogue, the spectator is forced into making choices about questions of identity and difference and the nature of mortality.

    In order to negotiate these particular practices has proved problematic, as the performances now only exist in a fragmentary way within photographs and videos. Of course, this documentation is not the performance itself. A photograph or video is a snapshot of time and cannot be totally representative. In an age of mass information overload, where we have become de-conditioned to atrocities committed in the name of politics, global terrorism and famine, the ‘news’ documentation played back on radio and television does not tell the real story. We are conditioned to objectify violations of the body and remove ourselves from immersion in such actions and feelings. The curators (journalists and TV news presenters) of this spectacle manipulate our points of view, numbing us to the reality of events happening in distant countries to ‘the other’.

    The use of blood within Live Art forces the viewer into re-considering their own bodily vulnerability and to question issues of gender roles. As Live Artists use their own bodies as a site for inquiry, there is an immediacy of similarity between the viewers and viewed, which does not require any academic training to understand. As such, immediate actions onto the body have generated a discourse that reaches beyond the confines of the Fine Art arena. Press interest has created a reputation for these artists that places them as ‘the other’ onto which we can project our own fears about bodily invasion and destruction, where we can directly experience such violent actions by attending a performance, not constructed and removed from reality in the manner television forces us to.

    Artists such as Franko B and Ron Athey provoke such a discourse, but one that is fuelled by reputation rather than experience. A sense of control, which could easily lapse into chaos, is the constant concern of such direct actions onto the body. With the disneyfication of difference so prevalent within Western culture, these artists are seeking to re-address the balance and re-affirm their own identities, using taboos such as blood, nakedness and socially sanctioned ‘self-harm’ to explore their own bodies. Traditional Fine Art notions of ‘the space’ and ‘the body’ become ‘this space’ and ‘this body’.


    Ron Athey’s practice is informed by his years of heroin addiction, a fundamentalist pentecostal upbringing, his mother being an institutionalised schizophrenic and ultimately his diagnosis of HIV fifteen years ago. His performances seek to negotiate his relationship to these events, creating a theatre of spectacle in which the viewer is implicated. His use of religious tableau to address these issues further enhances notions of social taboo and stigma. Disussing the idea of theatre and performance as cathartic methods of expression, Athey states,


    "Like the plague, the theatre is the time of evil, the triumph of dark powers that are nourished by a power even more profound until extinction...The theatre like the plague, is in the image of this carnage and this essential separation. It releases conflicts, disengages powers, liberates possibilities, and if these possibilities and these powers are dark, it is the fault not of the plague nor of the theatre, but of life".

    (Exposures, 2002, pg 6)

    In “Four Scenes from a Harsh Life” he inserts 30 hypodermic needles into his arm, referencing his time as an intravenous drug user. He then, with the help of his ‘medical’ staff, inserts a crown of ‘thorns’ (hypodermic needles again), enacting Christ’s death. As he collapses on the floor, his assistants cover him with a white shroud and he is carried to the centre of the stage. After a short while he is cleansed with water and is ‘resurrected’.

    During “Nurses’ Penance,” he re-creates the institutional terror of a hospital setting, with a patient brutalized by huge drag-queen nurses with sewn-together lips. In another piece he’s writhing naked, on one end of a double-headed dildo. His richest source for material, though, is the church. Most of his pieces have religious names like ‘Martyrs and Saints’ and ‘Deliverance’, along with characters like St. Sebastian, who’s martyred with a literal crown of thorns that causes blood to rain onto his face and the floor. Much of his work is driven by a sense of martyrdom and, arguably, a self-hate instilled on him from childhood.

    Athey attracted international attention in 1994, after a Minneapolis performance in which he sliced into the back of a fellow performance artist, placed strips of paper towel over the wounds and then hoisted the bloodied strips of paper towel, via pulley, over the heads of the audience. Though no blood dripped down onto the audience, and though the performer who was cut was HIV negative, Athey’s own HIV positive status led one audience member to claim that the crowd had been spattered with HIV-positive blood.

    Within these performances, the spectator is forced into a position of passive voyeurism. The audience act as conduits for this dialogue that is critical to Athey’s performances. Whilst Athey maintains the power, the audience are left helpless as he metamorphoses himself, through methods of live body modification. Although Athey presents himself to us as an artist, he is also allowing us to observe a process of healing and catharsis. Though Athey does not use documentation in a way that is representative (ie he doesn’t exhibit this work in a gallery), videos of his work provide us with a snapshot of the experience of his performances. His use of theatre to present the ‘real’, adds further signifiers to his work. Referencing notions of catholic ritual and linking this to the idea of Christ as drug taker (although by inference) he opens up a discourse on the nature of religion and its use of ritual.


    The use of blood in Franko B’s performances operates as a different signifier. Franko B is not HIV+ and he uses blood as an affirmation of life. His short pieces involve cutting, scarification and other apparent S/M practices. The direct use of his body in these performances removes any notions of ‘representation’. In order to fully experience Franko B, one has to be present as part of a complete visual, physical and emotional immersion in the work.

    His performances such as ‘I Miss You’, when he walks down a canvas in a room set up like a fashion show, with photographers situated at one end, to heighten the sense of voyeurism, seek to implicate the viewer further. ‘Oh Lover Boy’ sites Franko as an ‘artists model’. To quote from Gray Watsons interview with Franko B,


    "Oh Lover Boy is going to be a performance piece where again, the body is presented: it's there on the table. It is there for you to take, in a way, either to draw or to look at...the set-up is going to be almost like a life-drawing class but there is also a clinical side, where it is like you are looking at a body. But it is not passive; it is not a dead body, in a way it's giving life by bleeding. And he's looking at you".

    (Gray Watson, 2000)

    Franko’s performances reference his childhood being brought up by the Red Cross. Using a diatribe of medical equipment such a syringes, drip stands and wheel chairs, Franko re-enforces notions of healing, but also control, amidst the perceived chaos of his performances. He can only perform three times a year because of the amount of healing that needs to take place after his performances.

    Franko’s other work, (which is regularly exhibited, unlike Ron Athey’s documentation) consists of collages and installations. His collage work, references his ‘real’ experiences, and documents his whole life. This again raises issues of vulnerability, as he is leaving nothing to the imagination. Flyers from his performances and pictures of ‘boys I went out with’ (Gray Watson, 2000) mingle with images of religious artefacts and blood stained sheets from his performances.

    Issues of power arise here, as the viewer is implicated in the performance by default. Franko appears as helpless and vulnerable, but also has power over his audience. If Franko performed in the street, the context would be different and issues of legality would be raised. This issue of contextualisation also raises issues of safety and notions of control and chaos.

    Both Ron Athey and Franko B have ‘medical’ helpers during their performances. They act as signifiers within the performance, to connote to the viewer notions of control and safety. This safety angle is always printed on the flyers, to reassure the viewer. There is a paradox here, as the people that are supposed to ‘help’ during Franko B’s performance, also cut him with a razor during ‘Oh Lover Boy’. The medical helpers are in fact trained body-piercers, with basic anatomy training. As soon as this fact has been established during the performance, these signifiers change.

    Both Athey and Franko B as gay men question the nature of masculinity. At their performances, it is the men who recoil against the walls of the venue, normally in foetal positions, returning to maternal signifiers as if about to be castrated. The spilling of blood, whatever the connotation intended by the artist, has the effect of rendering the audience impotent, either to their own bodies or to the performance itself. They cannot help the performers, even though they feel their natural reaction is to do so.

    There is also a sense that the performers are acting ‘privately’ and the viewer is intruding into a sacred shamanic ritual. Shamanism is normally associated with women, blood letting during menstruation being an important part of ‘walking with the spirits’. Although, shamans tend to operate outside the confines of accepted social practice, they act as a conduit to ‘other-worldly’ access and are relied upon by the rest of the tribe to maintain a sense of unity. Within the framework of Live Art, the performers provide this access so that the viewers themselves can reach the dark underworld of the shaman. Within Western culture, it appears that men are not supposed to reveal their feelings, let alone share any intimate details about themselves with the outside world. By the direct action onto their bodies and the use of blood, Franko and Athey challenge this notion.

    The letting of blood is seen as ‘unclean’. This mythology probably originated in the Old Testament where it is seen that,


    "She is to be 'put apart for her uncleanness' for seven days".

    (Lev. 18:19)

    “Any man who lies with her during this time is also unclean for seven days, anyone who touches her is unclean till the evening, and everything that she sitteth upon shall be unclean”.

    (Lev. 15:19-24)

    Throughout the history of art we have encountered images of blood from the earliest cave paintings through centuries of biblical images and through to war films such as Apocalypse Now. It both fascinates us and repulses us. It has come to represent both the sacred and profane. Live Artists use this dichotomy as a way of personal transformation. At the performances there is a sense of sacredness that transcends orthodox religious methods. This could explain why the Christian Church is opposed to such direct actions onto the body. It appals them that something non-religious can actually achieve the same transcendental experience that religion is supposed to offer. In Judaeo-Christian cultures, blood ‘sacrifice’ cannot be culturally sanctioned because of notions of idolatry, where the artist are using their own bodies to ‘redeem’ themselves as opposed to appeals to God.

    In his book ‘Violence and the Sacred’, Rene Girards’ theory of sacrifice states,


    "The physical metamorphoses of spilt blood can stand for the double nature of violence...Blood serves to illustrate that the same substance can stain or cleanse, contaminate or purify, drive men to fury and murder or appease their anger and restore them to life"

    (Girard, 1972)

    The process of purification that the artists are trying to achieve can sometimes fail, not providing the audience with the signifier of life that blood performances seek to inform the viewer about. The aforementioned performance by Ron Athey called ‘Martyrs and Saints’ which used supposed HIV blood being heaved across the heads of the audience on a pulley system created an outcry. This could be because the blood was seen as ‘polluted’, making the ‘artist an unacceptable surrogate sacrificial victim for a healthy community’ (Dawn Perlmutter, 2000). In a sense, the signifier contained within the blood changed its meaning and the ritual which was meant to be a demonstration of transcendence through bodily mutilation failed. The distance between the observer and observed was very wide and the artists role as shaman became disjointed, hence the public outcry. The success of such actions is dependent on the audience feeling close to the Live Artists performance.


    The antagonism towards Live Art does not detract from the fact that Live Art is a growing method of expression. It could be seen as an attempt to disrupt societal and personal boundaries through methods of physical sacrifice and as a process of purification. Although sometimes the ritual, as in Athey’s case, can fail, it is still a ritual which people observe. With the growth of interest in body piercing and tattooing due largely to information being disseminated via the internet, what was once the reserve of underground S/M clubs has now become an overground method of artistic practice. There is an obvious need for people to get back in touch with their own bodies as the site of inquiry, as is evidenced by the recent series of events at the Tate Modern, running over the course of a weekend at the end of March this year called ‘Live Culture’. This exhibition brought together Live Artists from various schools, to inform, perform and debate. Depending on audience interest, the movement will continue to undermine social convention and will move away from the purely aesthetic and personal transformation on the part of the artists, into the realms of communal transformation.

    Jason Oliver
    May 2003


    References

    Bibliography

    • Danto, Arthur C (1986). The Philosophical Disenfranchisement of Art. Columbia University Press: New York.
    • Eliade, M (1987). The Encyclopedia of Religion. Macmillan Publishing Co: New York.
    • Stuart, H (1997). Representation, Cultural Represenations and Signifying Practices. Bath Press Colourbooks: Glasgow.
    • Keidan, L, Morgan, S and Sinclair, S. (1998). Franko B. Black Dog Publishing: London.
    • V, Manuel, Watson, G and Wilson, S. (2001). Franko B – Oh Lover Boy. Black Dog Publishing: London.
    • V,Vale and Juno, A. (1989). Modern Primitives, An Investigation of Contemporary Adornment and Ritual: Re/Search Publications: San Francisco, CA.
    • Wollheim, R. (1980). Art And Its Objects. University Press: Cambridge.


    Jason Oliver is currently working on his BA (Hons) Graphic Fine Art course in London, UK. His main areas of concern are ritual, body modification, and performances linking the two. He is researching social taboos and the general public’s response to direct actions onto the body and has a special interest in the use of blood, both in art and in ‘tribal’ rituals and how it acts as different signifiers depending on cultural context.

    He is an active opponent to cultural appropriation of body ritual, finding it both undermining and patronising but instead explores the role that modification plays to himself personally, without cultural references, by pushing his body into new areas of experience, with documentation being a pre-requisite.

    This article was written as a precursor to his thesis, currently entitled ‘The Body as Transformative Object’. You can find Jason on IAM as coldcell.


    Copyright © 2003 Jason Oliver and BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published online August 20th, 2003 by BMEzine.com LLC in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.

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