Jerome Abramovitch at the Montreal Tattoo Convention [Guest Column]

Jerome Abramovitch
at the Montreal Tattoo Convention

"Good art can not be immoral. By good art I mean art that bears true witness, I mean the art that is most precise."

– Ezra Pound

Those of you — especially the women reading this — that have been to tattoo conventions know how aggressive the photographers from tattoo magazines can be. Some of them, including some “big name” ones have a reputation for aggressive hounding of women for photos, bordering on both sexual harassment and simply insulting. Those that do agree to go to their room for photos find themselves pressured to take their top off to “better show the tattoo on their wrist”, and when they refuse, find themselves the brunt of insults and sometimes even threats from the photographer’s biker associates.

Clearly BME has an interest in photographing at tattoo conventions, but we didn’t want to become part of a process that in my opinion engenders unhappiness in this community and produces at best snap-shots of tattoos that people could just as easily take at home with their digital camera. Enter Jerome Abramovitch.

(As Jean Cocteau said, “an artist cannot talk about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture”, so that’s why I’m writing this introduction, not Jerome.)

I first met Jerome in 1999 when he approached me not as a photographer, but as a performance artist who’d amputated his own finger as art, and held numerous official and unofficial world records for everything from the most play piercings in a session to being perhaps the most heavily voluntarily branded man in the world — some of you may have also seen him on the cover of the ModCon book, or doing his saline performances on various television shows. It was only later that I discovered what a talented photographer he was as well.

At the 2003 Montreal Tattoo Convention in Quebec, Canada, we set Jerome up with a photo booth and he went at the convention as a true artist, with the aim of taking beautiful portraits of the people he encountered, not some cheap thinly-veiled pornography to run in discount magazines advertising “home tattoo kits”. I am very proud to present to you the results of his work — as you can see, his background is first and foremost in portraiture, so more so than snapshots of tattoos, you’ll notice that the focus is on the people. As he told me, “people who happen to have tattoos, but it’s about them, not about the ink on their skin.”

Watch out for Jerome at future tattoo conventions and events shooting for BME. Until then, you can visit his website at chapter9photography.com where you can contact him about prints, portraiture, or just congratulate him on giving a much needed kick in the ass to the others out there shooting tattoo conventions by showing them a better way to do it. You can also find him on IAM as Jerome.

Shannon Larratt
September 11th, 2003



Text copyright © 2003 BMEzine.com LLC, photos copyright © 2003 Jerome Abromovitch. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published online September 11th, 2003 by BMEzine.com LLC in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.

Nutrition

modbody

“The wise man should consider that health is the greatest of human blessings. Let food be your medicine.”
– Hippocrates

As asked many times over, how does one become overweight to the point of obesity? Though I am far from a doctor or scientist, after a little research it becomes clear that this issue is akin to the debate of which came first — the chicken or the egg. Does it come down to a simple matter of control of our eating patterns, or are we prey to companies who create high-fat, high-sugar foods without our knowing it?

We’d all like to think that it takes a profoundly lazy person to be so inactive and eat so poorly that they gain a substantial amount of weight. Of course, for some that is the case, but by and large I believe that people do care about their health. Unfortunately, many of us live in a time where it is difficult to eat healthy meals and get as much exercise as we should be. However, many people consider themselves healthy (or at least not unhealthy) when in fact they quite often are not. It seems that many people are quite content to be a little overweight, and of course they have that right. Many will argue that one does not need to be lean to be healthy, and in certain circumstances I will agree — I have seen it with my own eyes, in the case of a successful middle-aged marathon runner who is more than fifty pounds overweight. But this is the exception to the rule. I had always imagined that I was in better shape than I was. I figured that just because I had gained a few (that turned out to be almost thirty) pounds didn’t mean that I wasn’t in decent shape. I knew there were muscles under there somewhere. Of course, I hadn’t seen them in a few years, and now that I think about it, climbing a couple of sets of stairs was becoming more and more difficult. You know the rest of the story.

To get back on track, we get fat from a combination of lack of proper exercise and terrible eating habits, the latter of which is the topic of this month’s article.

According to the Journal of the American Medical Association, very close to two-thirds of all American adults are overweight, and nearly half of those who are overweight are obese (“extremely or grossly overweight”), accounting for a full 61.3 million people over the age of twenty.

According the BME Megasurvey, a little over one third of those surveyed describe their weight as being ‘overweight,’ with just 2.3% of those surveyed indicating that they would describe themselves as being “extremely overweight.” I may not be a doctor, and I’m certainly no statistician, but quite simply there seems to be a very wide gap between Americans who think they are overweight (36.8%), and those who actually are overweight (64.5%). To extrapolate, nearly half of overweight people are in denial about being overweight, which is a telling sign of our times. It doesn’t take a leap of faith to figure out that on the whole, we don’t eat nearly as healthy as we should. Overweight and obesity-related illness cost American taxpayers $122.9 billion per year, second only to smoking-related illness. So the next time you ask somebody to ‘butt out,’ don’t be surprised if they ask you skip seconds 😉

But how can we, frankly? Take a look in your cupboards and count how many foodstuffs are processed, preserved, contain added sugars and a trillion other chemicals you can’t pronounce. I am positive that it will outnumber the amount of fresh food you have in your refrigerator. But you’re not unique, of course. Unless you live on a farm and can grow and harvest your own food, you will be consuming food with these additives. It’s just the way it is, and it won’t change anytime soon.

It’s up to you to change.

By purchasing fresh food and produce, you benefit in ways you’d never imagined — from supporting local farmers to sending a message that you won’t tolerate (or at least won’t consume — which means lost income for corporations) the sheer amounts of added sugars, colours, preservatives, and pesticides that come with the food you’re eating. It’s your choice, and ultimately, your health.

Diet

The average person’s daily caloric requirement is between 1600 and 2200 calories. I’m not going to bore you with more statistics, but suffice it to say that many of us are not eating a well-balanced diet including choices from all of the food groups. While the Food Guide Pyramid has come under fire recently for various reasons, it’s recommendations are correct supposing that you live a moderately active lifestyle, which it is obvious that most of us don’t. Diet fads have come and gone, and most of you have probably tried one or two yourselves, but unless it is nutritionally balanced, invariably it will not work. Though vegans and vegetarians are stereotyped as being frail and skinny, there is some truth to that. It is very difficult to consume an adequate amount of protein (which helps build muscle) without eating animal products — very difficult, but not impossible*. This is especially true if you hope to lead a very active lifestyle. There are many supplements out there that will help you balance your diet, but they are just supplements, and do not take the place of ‘whole’ foods.

* Editor’s note: I began my exercise program about the same time as Dustin, and in that time period have dropped my body fat level from 23% to 18%, and have also put on 16 pounds of lean muscle mass. I eat a very strict vegan diet (high protein from beans and so on), take no supplements of any kind (including protein drinks), and have had no difficulty in maintaining and gaining mass.

To be more active than your average person (who, as we’ve seen, isn’t very active at all) and not consume animal products takes some serious dedication. In fact, there is a small but growing number of vegetarian and vegan bodybuilders who compete in world-class events such as the Mr. Natural competitions. There are approximately 6000 “natural” amateur bodybuilders in the United States.

I suppose I should talk about the Atkins diet, the eating plan that proposes to cut out carbohydrates and recommends increasing your amount of protein. The short-term numbers indicate that many people have been able to lose significant amounts of weight in this manner. While losing weight is a good start to becoming healthier, it certainly won’t make you healthy. To be healthy you must also exercise at least moderately, and to do that you must take in a certain amount of carbohydrates. It seems that most who are on the Atkins diet are simply attempting to shed a few pounds, but those who believe that they can get fit may be in for a rude awakening. I’m glad to see people on the road to weight-loss, but I’d rather see them on the highway to fitness. The Atkins plan is no easy task — it takes a life-long dedication to watching exactly what you eat, and really affords little room for getting into shape because of the lack of carbohydrate intake. On the other hand, if you were to eat a well-balanced diet (including the odd piece of cake) and exercise just three days per week, you’d be in much better physical shape, though you may not lose as much weight (partially because muscle weighs significantly more than fat). Several professional fitness experts I’ve spoken to have referred to the Atkins diet as the Fatkins diet, and now you know why.

In my first meeting with my personal trainer, he informed me that I needed to increase my caloric intake from roughly 2000 calories per day to 3000. In other words, eat 50% more food. Which actually sounded pretty good to me, until I had to eat that much for more than just a couple of days. After figuring out how much protein I’d have to consume (one gram for every pound of lean muscle; about 135), I decided to purchase and start drinking protein powder shakes. I looked around until I found the powder with the highest concentration of protein, and started drinking one or two shakes per day, depending on the day of the week and how I feel about drinking the most disgusting liquid I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. I can be very picky about the textures of foods (I will never, ever eat or drink anything with pineapple or avocado), and this stuff is near the top of the list of worst to consume. It’s worth the sacrifice, however, since the 60g of protein I get from one shake (500ml with skim milk) means two less cans of tuna or two less portions of chicken per day, which really helps. I’m still working the kinks out of my diet, and am hoping to get some variety in there somewhere. Unfortunately, eggs don’t agree with me in numerous ways, so my consumption of them has to be limited.

Here is a sample from my food log from the first week of my training. Keep in mind that I am not a giant (I’m barely even short) and this amount of food requires some serious effort:

8:30am: half cup oatmeal, 500ml protein shake in skim milk with banana and three strawberries
12:30pm: BBQ hamburger with small garden salad, 350ml iced tea
5:00pm: Half turkey and ham sub on wholewheat bread with cheese and mayo and veggies, 500ml chocolate milk
8:00pm: Other half of sub sandwich, 250ml water
10:30pm: Chicken breast with hot peppers, green peas, 250ml protein shake with a half banana and three strawberries

This is in addition to the normal two liters of water daily. At first that part was difficult because of water retention, but is now quite easy, and as a side effect I don’t need to drink nearly as much water during my workouts because I am already hydrated. I am also beginning to lose some of that ‘water weight,’ though that will take some time.

At this point, I will soon be attempting to cut down the fat in my diet (without sacrificing protein) to shed some pounds. On the counter at my gym sits a yellow-orange squishy lump, which I was told today was one pound of (simulated) fat. I immediately thought of the 30 or so pounds of that stuff dispersed under my skin. If you saw that lump, you’d be at the gym with me tomorrow morning.

Arnold Schwarzenegger posting at age sixteen, as seen in his 1977 book The Education of a Body Builder

Arnold Schwarzenegger posting at age sixteen, as seen in his 1977 book The Education of a Body Builder.

Progress

In the weeks since my first official day of training, July 14, my overall strength has increased by 79.28%. I can bench press 62% more weight, I can ‘calf raise’ twice as much as when I started, and I can squat 244% more weight than in my first week. I’ve always been one for numbers, and these help, but beyond all of that I feel outstanding. I’m sure you’ll read that line every time I write a new column.

My measurements have also increased, in some cases substantially:

Thigh: increased 2.75″ to 24″
Calf: increased 3″ to 17.5″
Chest: increased 4.5″ to 41.5″
Waist: increased 1″ to 37″ (not so good, but lower back muscles are developing)
Bicep: now at 14″ (previous measurement long-forgotten)

That’s a total (not including biceps) gain of 11.25″ in just six weeks.

At this point, I have completed approximately seventeen one-hour sessions with my trainer, and this Wednesday I will be signing up for thirty more. Over the coming months we will see each other less and less while I spend more and more time getting fit at the gym. When we both agree on a time, I will start training four days per week (two days upper body, two days lower) instead of the current three, where I am performing a full-body workout. In recent weeks, as the intensity increases, I am able to exercise for longer periods of time, but each workout takes a lot out of me, to the point where I have come very close to throwing up. By splitting up the routines into upper and lower body I should be able to focus more on some areas than others, and give attention to the spots that really need it. Every week I am learning more and more about what I’m doing — including how to work smarter instead of harder — and my body is becoming accustomed to the routine. Every day I am better able to isolate certain muscles, and at the end of every week I can easily see the development of certain areas, which for me is a great motivator.

Before I sign off I’d like to propose a challenge to everybody reading this: For the next week, I challenge you to stop eating before you feel full at every meal. In some Eastern cultures it is customary to stop eating when you feel “80% full”. If everybody did this, we’d certainly not be seeing the problems with obesity that we do. I guarantee you’ll feel much better by the end of the week, and you just may be inspired enough to get outside and play.

You can thank me later.

dsig

dsig
Dustin Sharrow

Next month I’ll take a look at the history of bodybuilding.

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.

The Myth of the Modern Primitive: Emulation and Idolization

Counterpoint by Blake of Nomad

"A ritual can be described as the enactment of a myth. By participating in a good, sound ritual, you are actually experiencing a mythological life, and it's out of this that one can learn to live spiritually."

– Joseph Campbell

The myth of the Modern Primitive — a term coined by Fakir Musafar some twenty years ago when the body modification movement was in its infancy — is now applied broadly to anyone whose personal modification can be traced to an existing (or once existing) ancient or primitive culture; a tribal tattoo or a stretched earlobe for example.

Emulation or idolization, as Shannon suggests, can imply a mindless “because-it’s-cool” mentality — one based merely on aesthetic admiration. While anyone who can see must respect a Polynesian tattooed full body suit or the lobes of an elder Dayak, I suggest that the inclination toward tribal body modification transcends cultural barriers.

To refer to primitive cultures in general as “brutal and repressive” (does our own regime not brutally repress other societies around the world?) is to ignore the fact that these cultures, despite their “unsophisticated sociological moral structures” (a Western judgment according to Eurocentric ideals) prevailed for, in many cases, thousands of years. The reign of our Western society, a mere two centuries, is a drop in the bucket of time when compared with, for example, Egyptian dynasties that lasted over 3,000 years, did not destroy their environment, and left a legacy of architecture, high culture, art, jewelry, and demonstrated mastery over geometry. Recent archaeological evidence suggests that the labor force that constructed the great pyramids was well cared for — after all, a hungry worker gets little done. A vast network of modest domiciles, marketplaces, shops, even brothels and wine cellars tell us that although people died, the Pharaoh’s workforce was well organized, well rested, and drank, ate, and got laid.

The success of any civilization historically has depended on a social hierarchy, political or military infrastructure, and a spiritual, ritualistic, or religious dogma enacted by those “closest to the Gods”. Traditionally, tattoos and piercings were incorporates of that spiritual and social fabric. In Egyptian culture (the example I am using here), contrary to what Shannon suggests, it was primarily the upper-class who were tattooed and pierced.

The propaganda, mind control, and military threat utilized by the Nazi party affected societal control in a way much different than Aztec priests offering human sacrifice. Although prisoners of war were sacrificed, there was also an entire order of people who were offered consensually. In fact, these people were revered and considered it a high honor to have their blood and themselves offered to the Gods. Today, our own government utilizes many of Hitler’s principals of power (military threat, economic sanctions, propaganda, etc.) but “human sacrifice” no longer has the context of ritual and the spirit world. War is brutally and arbitrarily effected with technology and sophisticated weaponry (war is a timeless human motif; ancient or contemporary)… we need not even look our enemy in the eye.

I believe today’s “Modern Primitive” rarely supposes these “rituals (profound) and modifications (beautiful)” to be true expressions to aspire to of the romanticized “noble savage”. Rather, the primary reasoning for modern people to modify their bodies in a primitive fashion has more to do with aesthetics than rituals; an innate genetic predisposition of all humans. Modern people have the same human inclination as the primitive tribesman.

Author’s Note

A reminder that Anglo-Europeans also have a tribal heritage. Although we have been disassociated from it for over a thousand years, it is still our history as well.

I am a self-educated anthropologist, and piercer primarily of Italian descent. The oldest human mummy known to science and archaeology is a bronze-age man found on the Italian side of the Swiss Alps. He had over seventy black “tribal” tattoos, corresponding to chinese meridian points (acupuncture) and a healthy pair of 5/8″ stretched earlobes!

DNA profiling found that he had living relatives in Italy today. That’s my people! Not the mindless caveman you’d think for 6,000 years ago! More on that in my book (scroll down to the bottom for more information).

It is our societal context, lack of ritualistic format, and our disassociation from our own tribal past that is the difference. With self-education and practice we can rediscover these things.

It is more than curious to me that cultures separated by time and geography practiced nearly identical forms of body modification. In fact, the stretched earlobe is the single most prevalent and occurring form of body modification in human history (I will spare the reader by not listing those cultures here). This suggests a deeper intuition that transcends race and culture. The act of “taking control”, as Shannon suggests, is in fact a human necessity.

I don’t think it is possible to presuppose or describe simply people’s motivation to self-decorate and modify. In a society nearly devoid of ritual, the 18th birthday navel piercing and mini-tribal tattoo is a modern Western-derived rite of passage. It is not one handed down by our elders, but a newly reinvented one (because tribal drives are still buried inside the genetic memory of the suburban American girl), and one with valuable social and even spiritual potential.

Spirituality is very much about transcendence (of fear of pain, of social stigmas, and so on) and in any capacity is a deeply personal experience (even if we cannot articulate its meaning)… if it happens at all.

It is an ironic juxtaposition indeed that the “underground subculture of the Modern Primitive” is a “system (self)sustaining” within mainstream society. This society whose premise of conformity and normality omit modifying the body altogether as social necessity — one of conformity and “sustaining the group” above all else — is the mainstream of unmodified individuals! The evolution of the individual, I agree, must again take precedence over that of sustaining the society because as a society, we are fractured and subdivided (the tribal connection to our collective human past has the potential to bond all of us together). Individual freethinkers must again step into the limelight of humanity to save us from ourselves.

With any mass-produced cultural product (religion, pop music, body jewelry, or a government-engineered ignorant society) the potential for transformative experience is reduced to a simple mathematical equation — percent and ratio. There will always be a few fortunate individuals within the group who will delve deeper and due to early conditioning, personal experiences, acquired knowledge, and individual constitution gain far more than the “mindless masses” from their transformations. The “thick fog of fashion” pervades every aspect of adornment, regardless of time in history or civilization. Our own ignorance (culturally and collectively) is ultimately all that will damage body modifications’s ability to enlighten. Again it comes down to the individual.

Fuck the group. Know yourself and then relate to those who are like-minded and God forbid a few of you hang out and become a group… at least in “my group” everyone designed their own tattoos….

In a global society another strange juxtaposition of culture has occurred. Many tribal people now emulate and idolize tattoos of the West. On a trip through the rain forests of Central America with my wife two years ago, in the middle of nowhere, at a small stand by the side of the road, we got out to stretch our legs. Several heavily tattooed midgets of mixed Spanish-Mayan descent came out of the woodwork to check me out. They were covered with images of Elvis, skulls and crossbones, daggers, pinup girls and WWII airplanes. And there I was with my “tribal” body suit (all of my designs derived from dreams and vision quests marking significant times of my life). We checked each other out, shook hands and smiled a lot… a certain unspoken understanding had transpired. In an age of cross-cultural-trans-global-sociological influence, who was emulating and idolizing who? It no longer matters.

I AM GOD

 Be God, create beyond yourself
reject the placebos of everyone else
wash and melt from your unconscious, slumbering mind
and depart from the life-eating lull of the grind.
Smash and remake
rebuild and design
unlearn from the core
then extend to outside
your chosen, ethereal, and leaving you blind
id-image-synaptic
as seen through your eyes.

…..BLAKE

PS. Shannon’s thoughts on corporations and craftsmen I am in agreement with, as well as his advice on the ways one might obtain a meaningful tattoo (avoiding fllash). If you want the same tattoo every Joe has — you know, that one on the wall — why bother? However, if that Tasmanian Devil has deep personal meaning for you, then you did choose the right tattoo.

blake-and-fakirBlake’s book, A Brief History of the Evolution of Body Adornment in Western Culture: Ancient Origins and Today is available from his website, nomadmuseum.com, and will be added to the media section of BMEshop shortly for online ordering. Fakir Musafar writes that this 150-page oversize book is a “must have” for all serious modifiers.

blake-biopicThe grandson of dental surgeon, noted socialite, and traveller Dr. Naomi Coval, Blake Andrew Perlingieri was inspired by his grandmother’s travels to remote tribal areas in the early to middle parts of the 20th century.

Professionally, Blake began his carreer in 1990 at San Francisco’s premier piercing studio, Body Manipulations. At this time the only other studio was Gauntlet, L.A.. In 1993, Blake and his former partner, Kristian White, opened Nomad, the first tribal studio in the industry. Blake and Nomad have been featured numerous times in Fakir’s Body Play and all of the early publications and TV media of the day. In 1995, Nomad opened Australia’s first piercing studio in Melbourne. From 1996 to 1998 Blake brought his tribal gospel to the east coast and operated Venus with Maria.

In 1998, Blake returned west to open as sole proprietor Nomad Precision Body Adornment and Tribal Art Museum. Combining his famous jewelry collection with his recently inherited grandmother’s tribal art, Blake seeks to educate the children of the future, raise awareness about endangered tribes, and provide a cultural and educational context to body adornment for modern people.

The photo on the right was taken by Fakir Musafar.

Copyright © 2003 BMEZINE.COM. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published July 27, 2003 by BMEZINE.COM in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.

The Dreaded Before

modbody

“Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength.”
– Arnold Schwarzenegger

Not a day has gone by in the past year that I haven’t been grossed out by my physical appearance. It’s one thing to be a short man in this world… it’s entirely another to be a short, fat man, and I felt like I was on a sinking ship. My sedentary lifestyle, combined with my eating habits and busy schedule had taken their toll on my body, and I decided this spring that I would make no more excuses and get into shape. This was no longer a matter of desire to look and feel better, but a need to change my lifestyle. As many of you can appreciate, feeling uncomfortable in your own skin is one of the worst feelings you can have.

In my last column, I declared my intention for this series of articles — partly to document my own progress and process of physical training. This column will concern itself with giving you my background (why I’m doing what I’m doing), and lay bare my semi-nude soul, complete with measurements, in hopes that the pictures and numbers will improve in the coming months.

It wasn’t until the past two years that I noticed how much weight I was gaining. To be more precise, it wasn’t the weight, but rather how out of shape I felt. I played various sports at the competitive level from the ages of eleven to eighteen — at age sixteen, before anybody knew that I had stopped growing, I had try-outs for two Major League Baseball teams in Canada and the US. As with baseball, I also played hockey, often in international tournaments on a competitive team. Believe it or not, I was even a captain of my high school football team. And though I couldn’t have been farther in ideology from the stereotypical jock, I was proud of my physique. Athleticism and competition came easy to me.

That was, of course, until I left for university. For the past four years, my only physical activity has been skateboarding on an occasional basis. This, combined with my new-found love for food (I’d previously thought of food as simply fuel for my body) allowed me to become out of shape and overweight to the point where it started to affect my self-esteem. I couldn’t fit into several of my favorite pairs of pants and I had trouble with physical activities that had never previously given me any trouble. In some ways I can understand how overweight people continue to gain weight — it’s easier to take the elevator than the stairs, and the more you take the elevator, the less of a choice you have — it’s more difficult for somebody thirty or more pounds overweight to climb several sets of stairs, or even do simple things like take out the trash or play with their children. To use that tired cliche, it’s a destructive cycle, to say the least.

I must admit that one of my prime motivators to get back into shape is my appearance. It’s difficult to express exactly how or why I feel that this is important to me. While clothed, I do not appear out of shape any more than the next person. But like many men, I carry my weight around my stomach, and in the past two years I’ve really noticed a growing bulge when I looked down (my stomach, silly!). Leaning against the front counter in the lobby of the body art studio where I worked reminded me of this: my stomach was the first thing to hit the counter as I leaned forward, and it always felt bloated, an external extension of my “real” body.

Well, it’s time to lay bare the nitty-gritty, no matter how embarrassing some of it may be. Welcome to “Dustin: Before!”

At this point, I’ve completed my first week of training with Will, my personal trainer at a large fitness centre in downtown Toronto. Will has trained several fitness and body-building champions throughout Ontario, and at his hourly rate, I’m fairly certain that I’m in good hands. I think it’s fairly important to remark here that I was greeted with a warm smile by everybody I met on my first visit to this club. This isn’t to advertise for this company (I’m not going to give away the name), but this made me feel much more comfortable than I had anticipated. I expected a bunch of steroid junkies and anorexic women, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. This situation is similar to visiting a new body modification studio: your first question to yourself should be do I feel comfortable? I certainly did.

[Editor’s note: In my own case, I held off going to the gym for so long because I was embarrassed to be so out of shape. I was deathly afraid to parade my shame in front of people who I knew would be in dramatically better shape… I was surprised to find out that the people I met at the gym, no matter how fit they were, never judged me or treated me with disdain — the worse shape I appeared to be in, the happier they were to see me there, knowing what a wonderful positive adventure I was beginning. If you are holding off on making this change in your life for this reason, don’t let it stop you!]

Ten minutes after meeting Will for the first time, he had me jump through some hoops (figuratively) to figure out my “before” measurements. I stood on this space age-looking machine, which told me I weighed twenty pounds more than I thought I did! I knew that I was in for a rough ride. I even had the nerve to tell Will that I thought the scale was wrong. The last time I had weighed myself was when I was in shape at 145 pounds. Because of a semi-sedentary lifestyle since then, and because I don’t actually have a second or third chin, I had imagined my weight hovering near 155 lbs. Boy was I wrong! After this, Will took a tape measure to my body and wrote it all down. I was then given a print-out from the space age machine which confirmed just how out of shape I was:

Height: 5′ 6″
Age: 23
Clothed: Yes

Current Body Weight: 175.0 lbs / 79.3 Kg1
Total Body Fat: 20.7%2 35.2 lbs / 16.0 Kg
Fat-Free Mass: 79.3% 135.2 lbs / 61.3 Kg
Total Body Water: 60.5%3 46.8 ltr
Body Mass Index: 274

Your target weight range is 151.4 to 159.5 lbs.

1 approximately 20 lbs overweight
2 average male body fat is 10% to 20%
3 this number is very low, indicative of excessive body fat
4 does not take into account muscle vs. fat weight

While I have no idea how many calories I’d normally consume in a day, a normal range for me should be approximately 2000 calories. I was told that I was going to have to up my caloric intake to 3000 calories per day in order to build muscle with the level of activity I was about to undertake with Will every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning. The most difficult part of the past two weeks has been eating as much as I’m supposed to. Even though I am overweight, I almost always eat very well and try not to over-eat. Fortunately, I was accustomed to eating several smaller meals throughout the day, but now because of my increased caloric intake, I find myself eating much more than I used to. The increased intake is so that I can gain muscle while working out, instead of using my existing muscle to fuel my workouts. Breakfast is still something that I’m getting used to, and because of the foods and protein that I’m eating so early in the morning, my stomach often puts up a good fight — but I haven’t lost yet.

My before measurements are as follows:

Chest: 37″
Waist: 36″ (wow!)
Thigh: 21.25″
Calf: 14.5″

It goes without saying that I won’t be winning any body building championships anytime soon… as you can see here:

dustin1

With that out of the way, we started a 45-minute fitness assessment, which involved me sweating my brains out while trying to do the simplest of activities such as push-ups and sit-ups. The last time I did these exercises I didn’t have nearly this much trouble! I grunted and sweated and grunted some more throughout the short session. My body felt like it should have given up long ago, but I loved every minute of it. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for the rest of the day — I may be woefully out of shape, but at least I was taking control and doing something about it! I felt on top of the world. Invincible.

That is, until I had to shower. I couldn’t take my shirt off! The sheer amount of sweat had adhered my shirt to my swollen body, and I could barely move my arms. This part wasn’t so much fun. I spent the next day trying to make up for my lack of stretching, but it didn’t do much good. I’ve since learned my lesson and always spend at least ten minutes stretching after each session.

I have had only five sessions since that fateful day, and I can say without hesitation that I am already stronger than I was last week. I have figured out a stretching routine and I look forward to going to the gym to see if I can better last session’s results. I have always been competitive, so competing with my previous self, in order to see progress, is not a difficult thing to do. Sure, I get disappointed when I can’t lift as much weight or do as many push-ups as the last time I worked out. But I don’t get discouraged because at least I’m doing something! More than anything, it’s great to actually feel alive again. Far from being a chore or a punishment, my workouts have already helped improve my confidence, my energy level and my spirits. My posture is better, and I no longer have any bouts of hypoglycemia. My skin has even cleared up!

In conclusion, I cannot stress enough how much I love the feeling of being alive again and taking part in life rather than letting it pass by. I realize that I sound like a cheerleader, and that’s fine. I have decided to make physical fitness and activity a permanent part of my life, not something to do in order to shed a few pounds while writing an article for an e-zine. The results are already showing, and I can’t wait to give you an update next month!

dsig

Dustin Sharrow

Next month’s column will give you an update about my progress, as well as discussing proper nutrition.

Your Body as Temple?

modbody

“I hated every minute of training, but I said, don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life a champion.”
– Muhammad Ali

One of the oldest and most commonly used justifications for body modification is the ‘temple’ metaphor — “Your body is a temple. Have you ever seen an unadorned temple?”

If the body truly is a temple, then why are so many people abusing it and letting it fall apart? I am not referring to the act of piercing or tattooing or to any other skin-deep modification. I am talking about how most of us abuse our bodies through inactivity, improper nutrition, lack of rest, and elevated levels of stress. If it’s true that we’ve become the fattest generation of people the world has ever seen, then it also holds true that we in fact have very little control over our bodies, something that each and every one of us claims to have gained through our body modification endeavours. If we care so much about our personal temples, exactly how do we let ourselves become twenty pounds overweight? Fifty? One hundred?

David Patchell-Evans, champion rower and the successful entrepreneur of The Good Life Fitness Clubs, brings physical fitness into the ‘temple’ equation:

"Imagine yourself as a house. Your fit body is your foundation. An unfit body is an unstable foundation. If your intellect and emotions are the walls, and your foundation is fit, those walls stay up straight and help you hold your treasures inside. If the walls are vulnerable because your foundation is shaky, the house could fall apart. Think of your soul as the roof. To be truly self-actualized, everything below the roof needs to be in good working order. Everything works together to make the dwelling place that is you."

Over the past three years working in the body modification industry, I have noticed two things. The first is that as a portion of the general population, we’re some of the kindest, most generous people out there. We’ve all had to deal with the insults and snickers behind our backs, and for many of us these acts of prejudice have made us mentally tougher. My second observation is that many of us are out of shape, and even obese. While I’m sure that this reflects the physical status of the general population, it strikes me as peculiar that the very people who choose to adorn themselves with jewelry and markings on their skin manage to neglect the fitness of their body as a whole.

I say this not to be mean or cruel, but because I’m right there with you. After four years of intense schooling and working simultaneously in this industry, my fitness level has decreased significantly, while my waistline has grown to reflect this. (I’ve even heard reference to something called a “tattooist’s gut.”) While I’ve never been thin, and perhaps never will be, I was in great shape as a teenager. I played baseball internationally, was the captain of my high school football team, and played competitive hockey, to name a few activities that were an integral part of my adolescence. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way I decided to prioritize school and money over my physical fitness, and now I find myself desperately trying to get back into shape and lose the weight I’ve put on over the past four years.

The concept of this series of articles is to chronicle my physical transformation from David into Goliath. Well, maybe a five foot six inch Goliath, but you get the point. Over the next several months I will be documenting my physical (fitness) transformation via photos, statistics and stories. I have joined a reputable fitness club and hired their best personal trainer to push me harder than I can on my own — with your body, there are no quick fixes or short cuts. I am motivated and ready to see the changes I will be making to my body in the weeks and months to come. While I have not yet set out goals on paper, my plan is to change not only my overall fitness level, but the entire shape of my body. I do not wish to become the next Arnold or Incredible Hulk, but any gain in lean muscle at this point is a step forward in matching my imagined self with my real self. Maybe once I am happy with the shape and fitness of my body, I can once again concentrate on adorning it through traditional body modification methods.

I realize that this is just the beginning; that I have very much to learn and even more to look forward to. And while I haven’t hashed out exactly the subjects of each column, there are several areas which I will bring to you in hopes that you too will be inspired by my transformation to become more physically active. As you’ll see, it is a long road ahead, but I am intent on reclaiming control over my body, just as many of you claim to do when getting pierced or tattooed. Perhaps when I have control again, I can use the ‘temple’ metaphor to refer to something more than just skin deep.

Until next time,
dsig
Dustin Sharrow

Next week’s column will offer a perspective on why having a healthy body is important to each and every one of us. I will also offer up my before personal statistics and photos, as well as my thoughts about having completed my first week of training after three years of inactivity!