_ | \ | \ | | \ __ | |\ \ __ _____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________ | ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ | | | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | | | | /________/ | | / / /________/ | | | | | | / / | | | | | |/ / | | | | | | / | | | | | / | | | | |_/ | | | | | | | | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | | | |________________________________________________________________| | |____________________________________________________________________| ...presents... My Night Out by Obscure Images 06/01/1996-#313 __///////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\\__ \\\\\\\/ Everything You Need Since 1986 \/////// ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ |___heal_the_sick___raise_the_dead___cleanse_the_lepers___cast_out_demons___| The show was opening at a new gallery in town. I don't recall what it was called, but I'm almost positive that it was something really industrial and menacing. Regardless, I was exhilarated that some of my work was going to be in the show and a little nervous about the reaction it'd get. Fortunately it was a group show, so there was a built in safety valve. If my stuff wasn't the best, it was still probably better than someone else's. When I arrived, I was surprised to see the number of people that had gathered. I was excited about it until I remembered that it was the opening night, which always means free food and liquor. I have heard stories of people who live in larger areas that survive solely on food from openings. If the art thing doesn't pan out I think I might move somewhere else and give it a shot. The gallery was dimly lit, except for spot lighting on the actual pieces of art. The music was a generic ambient soundtrack, turned up loud enough to notice, but not so much as to prevent conversation. As I walked through the entry way I felt a wave of pretension wash over me. I grinned, thinking this was the way the game was played. My first piece in the show was a canvas I had painted a flat white, except for a bright cobalt blue dot in the middle. Also, in fine lettering along the bottom edge were the words, "Don't stand here too long." I quickly walked past, even though I knew that I didn't have the mechanism wired up. I stood not too far off to watch the people file past it, picking up snippets of their conversation. Checking to see if anyone would stand there too long. "...quite frankly, I feel that this piece is somewhat standard. You know that this has already been done many other times, and the command on the bottom is ludicrous. Wth a work like this you wouldn't want to stand here at all," said an older man, dressed in black with his wife, also in black. I chuckled to myself, as they had been there too long. If the mechanism was hooked up, they would have both been dead. Incidentally, the name I gave the piece was "Bug Zapper." It was good to know that it worked. I talked to some people for a while and played my part as the artist. I had to give rather lengthy explanations of some of my work to people who looked as if they might be interested in purchasing it. The "Bug Zapper" was really the only conceptual work I put in the show. The rest of it was more representational. After talking to several perspectives, I went to play with another piece that a friend of mine made. It was a giant life-sized version of Rock'em Sock'em Robots, complete with controls that people could use. This would have been a really cool toy, but the part that made it an artistic statement, at least according to my friend, was exceptional. When a player loses and the head pops up, the robot turns around and bends over, exposing its ass to the victor. Along with its amusement value, it is a commentary on how little progress there has been in power relations. Dominant male primates will often demand submission from the other males in the tribe. This submission is expressed by bending over and presenting himself. My friend says that it would explain a lot about masculine distaste of homosexuality at some primal level. Could be. Remember the puppet made out of beads & string on a plastic base? You made it move by pushing the circle in the base up and down. You pushed, which loosened the string and made the puppet limp. If you messed around with it long enough you could do some pretty cool puppetry. Anyway, that's what my piece was, a full sized version of one of those toys. I made it out of PVC pipe and some nylon rope. Cheap and easy, especially since I just made a skeleton. I was going to go political with it but I thought that might come off a bit trite. People seemed to be enjoying it. It was raised up off the floor with enough space to lay underneath and push the disc in the base to make it move. I had it priced pretty cheap, as I didn't have anywhere to put it at my place, so I wanted someone to buy it. Most of the people remained for the performance art. In a spirit of kindness, I will keep the artists name out of this story, because I'm not sure she is as proud of the work as she was when she performed it. Fortunately for those of us in the audience, she was attractive. She still is, more or less. Anyhow, she came out onto the stage and started ranting, occasionally ripping or slashing at an article of her clothing. Quite frankly (I'm sounding like my pretentious couple now), the rant was uninspired, her shtick was weak. At best it could be called a Lydia Lunch/Karen Finley thing. At worst it was the feeble warblings of someone with a few too many womens' studies courses in her. Things did get interesting when she brought out a large wax dildo and bent over in front of the audience, lighting one end and shoving it up into herself. I might add for clarity that the lit end was not the end inserted. She furiously masturbated herself with this flaming dildo while screaming at the top of her lungs about getting fucked by men, getting fucked by institutions, getting fucked in just about every way conceivable. Then as quickly as she worked herself into the frenzy, she relaxed and became quiet. The crowd was silent, waiting to see if it was over when an expression of horror flashed across her face which was followed by the enormous roar of massive flatulence, which caused the small flame at the end of the candle/dildo to flare up and out toward the audience. It was all I could do to not fall over laughing as she removed the dildo and walked off the stage. I was absolutely flabbergasted at the audience's reaction. They clapped, and later I heard members of the audience talking about how clever she was. I had my doubts, and as I told her some time after this, she managed to take radical feminism and drag it down into male high-school locker room humor. I also added that at least it was a step in the right direction. She hit me pretty hard. That's another story altogether. Closing time grew near so I decided to make my way to the exit. On the way I talked to the gallery owner, who informed me that several of my pieces had sold, and he had some people interested in one or two others. As soon as I cleared the doors, I began to laugh. I laughed all the way to my car, and then all the way home. When I think about the event I still chuckle. Oh yeah, I took apart the bug zapper painting. I decided that if people were actually going to pay for my work it'd be best not to kill them with it. .-. _ _ .-. / \ .-. ((___)) .-. / \ / \ / \ .-. [ x x ] .-. / \ / \ -/-------\-------/-----\-----/---\--\ /--/---\-----/-----\-------/-------\- / \ / \ / `-(' ')-' \ / \ / \ WORLDWIDE \ / `-' (U) `-' \ / WORLDWIDE `-' .ooM `-' _ Oooo / ) __ /)(\ ( \ Copyright (c)1996 cDc communications. / ( / \ \__/ ) / All rights reserved. Award-winning CULT OF THE DEAD COW \ ) \)(/ (_/ is published by cDc communications, P.O. Box 53011, oooO _ oooO Lubbock, TX, 79453, US of A. Edited by Swamp Ratte'. __ ( \ / ) /)(\ / \ ) \ \ ( \__/ Save yourself! Go outside! Do something! \)(/ ( / \_) "THE COW WALKS AMONGST US" Oooo