Installation detail (all images courtesy of the artists and SOFA Ilam Campus Gallery)
Lady Godiva, Peeping Tom and a Dusky-Hued Rent Boy: by Sach Catts
‘The Countess Godiva, who
was a great lover of God's mother, longing to free the town of Coventry from
the oppression of a heavy toll, often with urgent prayers besought her husband
that, from regard to Jesus Christ and his mother, he would free the town from
that service and from all other heavy burdens; and when the Earl sharply
rebuked her for foolishly asking what was so much to his damage, and always
forbade her evermore to speak to him on the subject; and while she, on the
other hand, with a woman's pertinacity, never ceased to exasperate her husband
on that matter, he at last made her this answer: "Mount your horse and
ride naked, before all the people, through the market of this town from one end
to the other, and on your return you shall have your request.”
‘On which Godiva replied, "But will you
give me permission if I am willing to do it?"
‘"I will," said he.[i]’
It is unwise to
hang around the back end of a horse. Temptation may urge one to stroke the
rump’s enticing curve. But hastily assuming intimacy with the beast is
dangerous. The animal carries an instinct to repel any advances from the rear with
a powerful kick of its hind legs. Let it see you first, let it know your intentions.
Francesca Heinz’s horses offer no safe avenue for encroachment. Hind legs and rump are the only anatomy
we have to savour. The gallery wall attenuates the animals from the flank
forward. To attain an intimate proximity one must also come within range of the
instinctual kick. However, the isolation of these anatomical features invites
their objectification. In this state they offer the viewer an alluring
ambiguity. Their equine associations are allowed to slip and blur. We begin to
see them as hips, a shapely arse atop slender legs. Their latex skin is closer
to a tanned human hide than a mare’s shiny coat. They are hairless save for the
blonde tail. Casually observed, they appear anatomically female. (On closer
inspection they lack any sex organs at all). They exude the erotic pull of a
woman’s buttocks, only intensified by the tail. Horsetail anal plugs exist
because there is a market for them.
The image of a
woman, bent at the hips, with her buttocks presented toward the viewer is a trope
etched with female sexual subjugation. ‘Twerking’, the now ubiquitous dance
move, plays off these associations. The woman is ‘presenting’, as a mare or
bitch in heat would, calling the dominant male to take her from behind. She is
inviting penetration, but is also powerless to resist. The allure of this
vision is inextricable from the woman’s debasement. She is reduced to the
status of the animal. She wants it doggy style. This flavour of sexual allure
may attract one to Heinz’s horses, their taxonomic indeterminacy enhancing the
excitement. One should remember the opening warning however. Sexual allure may
prove to be a siren’s song, drawing one within range of a swift kick in the
rocks.
On
February 11, 2006, the Washington State Senate made bestiality a Class C felony
punishable by five years imprisonment and/or a US$10 000 fine. The legislation
was passed unanimously. (An ordinarily rare accord, but one can imagine a voting
record that appeared to support zoophilia tarnishing a senator’s re-election
campaign)[ii].
This addition to the state’s legal code came in response to the death of
Kenneth Pinyan. Pinyan had sustained a perforated colon, leading to acute
peritonitis, during an act anal intercourse with a stallion. The injury was
received in the town of Enumclaw. The 2006 bestiality laws also prohibited
filming or photography of sexual acts between humans and animals. A video
recording shot shortly prior to his death depicts Pinyan engaged in an act of
anal intercourse with a horse. Substantial media attention was given to the
events in Enumclaw. The aforementioned video has since been circulated widely
on the Internet. Witnessing the manner in which horses mate begins to explain
their (or at least the female’s) instinct to kick when approached unexpectedly
from behind.
Heinz’s horses are
erotically anthropomorphic. Conversely, describing Terakes’ work as ‘erotic’
seems an uncomfortable fit. Herein, sex is engaged with at its most superficial.
A seesaw sets the tone. A simple mechanism formed by a timber plank pivoting on
a concrete block, it analogises the sexual act, reducing it to a mechanical
sequence of penetration followed by withdrawal. It could seem excessively
Freudian to claim a piece of playground equipment as an intercourse analogy,
were it not for the big black dick and sweet pink cupcake adjacent to it. This
is sex to the adolescent boy: the linking of a big, hard rod to a sugary treat
through a bit of the ol’ in-out, accented by ‘interracial’ pornography. The
embroidered banners presiding over this copulatory diorama offer homespun
homages to a selection of topics that engage and titillate the post-capitalist
Western consciousness. Their concerns fit onto a continuum from the stupid to
the sinister: ‘SEAFOLLY’ – the only Australian swimwear brand anyone can
remember. A progression away from trivialities has to begin somewhere; in this
case it begins with hot chicks in bikinis.
Enumclaw. As with
most paraphilias, sex with a horse arouses juvenile amusement. As we get older
it is elevated to ‘morbid fascination’ - a curious attraction to some perceived
sickness. The name Enumclaw is alien to most. To the privileged, reference to
the rural locale produces amusement progressively inflected with discomfort.
However, there is nothing funny about Pogo the Clown. An appropriation of an
appropriation, the stitched image is based on a painting by serial killer and
rapist John Wayne Gacy. Gacy produced the work on death row. The painting depicts
Pogo, a character he had assumed at public events and children’s parties, and was
later purchased and exhibited in an exhibition of his own work by the late Mike
Kelley. Kelley and Terakes’ appropriations speak to the Western mind’s
obsession with violent psychopathy; an obsession accounting for a spectrum of
cultural ubiquity running from true crime to Nazi memorabilia. This amusement
is inexplicable to most and, upon interrogation, troubling. Similar to
realizing you’re aroused by a horse’s arse.
‘Work
hard, try not to be too bored, don’t do too much fornicating; conserve your
strength: an ounce of sperm lost is worse than ten pounds of blood. By the way
you ask me if I consummated that business at the baths. Yes – and on a
pockmarked young rascal wearing a white turban. It made me laugh, that’s all.
But I’ll be at it again. To be done well an experiment must be repeated.”’[iii]
The Middle East
has lost some of its romance in Western eyes. It remains the oriental other but
the hint of trepidation that made the region exotic and alluring to Gustave
Flaubert has been inflated and transmogrified into terror. You can still go to
Afghanistan to get high. However, the opium has been refined to high-grade
heroin and if you don’t get kidnapped and beheaded because your government
doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, your drug dependence may problematise making
it to Kabul airport for a 7:30 a.m. flight. However, turbans are still fairly
benign.
The view,
attributed to the West by Said and held in the West by Flaubert of the region
as a wonderland of palm trees, apple tea and dusky-hued rent boys conflicts
with contemporary occidental concerns and the de rigueur conclusions of dinner party
political analysis that flow from them. The attitude is of resignation. The
colonial playground is momentarily redacted. The region is one of perpetual
conflict and militant tribalism, and has been since the dawn of history. The
most fiercely contested plot of land in history. Reconciled accordingly, at the
same time that Flaubert waxed idyllic, the locals were slaughtering each other
wholesale. This dinner party commentary sounds imperialistic: reductive
conclusions beyond the experience of those who peddle it. But the West has a
right to speak for the Middle East. This is laid out in the name we give it, a
title only identifying its position relative to us. This geopolitical entity is
an invention and dependent subject of the West.
Kirk’s turbans act
as ciphers for these paradoxes. The turban, a form of traditional headwear
based on wound cloth. They are customary in a range of cultures, predominantly
in the Middle East, North Africa, Central and South Asia in a plethora of
regional styles. These specificities are not acknowledged in Kirk’s forms. The
turban here is a generic article, the same form repeated across a colour
selection. They conjure the Middle East: a general sense of it but nothing
more, really. A symbol: a screen for our projections. The lone collage acts as
a prototype. Its signifying function laid bare as the Palimpsest, the tablet which is washed bare for each viewer to inscribe
their projections on anew. The reference to Levi-Strauss is almost too obvious
– floating turbans as floating signifiers.[iv]
These forms offer only enough to begin imagining the other. As to the romance;
they’ll have to seduce us. They should probably get advice from the horses.
‘Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity;/
And one low churl,
compact of thankless earth,/
The fatal byword of all years to come,/
Boring a
little auger-hole in fear,/
Peep'd - but his eyes, before they had their will,/
Were shrivel'd
into darkness in his head,/
And dropt before him.’[v]
[i] Roger of
Wendover, Chronica (1236). Edwin Widney Hartland, English Fairy and other Folk Tales (London:
Walter Scott Publishing Company, n.d. [ca. 1890], pp. 55-56.
[ii] , Charles Mudede, "The
Animal In You" The Stranger, February–March,
2006, http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=30811 (accessed 16/9/13).
[iii] Gustave Flaubert, Francis Steegmüller, The Letters of Gustave
Flaubert: 1830–1857, Harvard University Press (1980), p. 121.
[iv] Claude Levi-Strauss, Introduction
to Marcel Mauss, (1987) London: Routledge, 63-64.
[v] Extract
from Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson, Frank Laurence Lucas ed, “Godiva” Alfred, Lord Tennyson: An Anthology, Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press (1932), p. 91.
(Originally published published as a catalogue essay for Francesca Heinz, Eloise Kirk and Ben Terakes' exhibition "Milksop" at the SOFA Ilam Campus Gallery, University of Canterbury, Christchurch, New Zealand in 2013)
1 comment:
To je zaujímavý koníček. Napríklad som veľkým fanúšikom šachu. Veľmi ma zaujalo, keď som čítal o instaforexe, ktorého zakladateľ hrá šach. https://cuetracker.net/players/ildar-sharipov tu je mimochodom dobrá stránka
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