Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Στην Όπερα Χάουζ του Σύδνεϋ 1 μαρτίου 2010

Χιλιάδες άνθρωποι, περίπου 5.000 αποφάσισαν να φωτογραφηθούν γυμνοί κάτω από την Όπερα του Σίδνεϊ ανταποκρινόμενοι στο κάλεσμα του διάσημου καλλιτέχνη Spencer Tunick.

Σύμφωνα με δημοσίευμα του BBC οι διοργανωτές της φωτογράφησης έμειναν έκπληκτοι από τον αριθμό των ανθρώπων που ανταποκρίθηκαν, καθώς περίμεναν πολύ λιγότερους.

Πρόκειται για τον ετήσιο εορτασμό του SYDNEY Gay and Lesbian Mardi Grass, όπου άνθρωποι ανεξαρτήτως σεξουαλικών προτιμήσεων δώσανε ένα ηχηρό μήνυμα πως όλοι οι άνθρωποι είναι ίσοι, μένοντας γυμνοί ο ένας δίπλα στον άλλο χωρίς ταμπού.

Οι χιλιάδες άνθρωποι – μοντέλα , πόζαραν στο φωτογραφικό φακό , αγκαλιασμένοι και ξαπλωμένοι στο έδαφος, για τη συλλογή φωτογραφιών με τίτλο «The Base».

Αξίζει να σημειωθεί πως ανάμεσα στους χιλιάδες ανθρώπους, υπήρχε και μια έγκυος γυναίκα σε προχωρημένη κατάσταση, η οποία αμέσως μετά το τέλος της διοργάνωσης μεταφέρθηκε στο μαιευτήριο για να γεννήσει.

Για το i-live.gr Α.Κοντούλη

Charles Purcell SMH
March 2, 2010

THE artist Spencer Tunick put out the call - and Sydney answered. More than 5000 volunteers began arriving from 4am, queueing from the Opera House forecourt round to the Museum of Contemporary Art to be part of the American's nude art installation; a crowd so big it spilled on to the Royal Botanic Gardens.

They were willing to risk being late for work, being filmed by television cameras - and worst of all, being spotted by someone they knew - for the honour of being the 2000th buttock cheeks from the left in a Tunick photograph.

The official name of Tunick's installation was The Base. Yet after waiting two hours for the sun to come up, it became apparent that Blue Poles might be an appropriate title as a brisk wind hit the Opera House steps.

A collective cry went up with each new chill as we gathered in the shape of a giant upside-down triangle. Soon people were slapping their buttocks en masse with their hands to warm up.

Those blessed with magnificent pelts of chest hair - something of a rarity among the waxed and trimmed crowd - fared best in a sea of goosepimpled flesh.

The ferries appeared to slow down as they came and went at Circular Quay, passengers witnessing more bare breasts than in a Russ Meyer film, while news helicopters flew overheard. But we were not daunted. The mood was happy, strong. Young and old, straight and gay, we were united in our nudeness. We were declaring to the world: "Yes, these are our bellies, our tuckshop arms, our hairy backs. Love them as we do."

Tunick directed the crowd via megaphone with a flurry of instructions, seemingly able to pick out individual people among the thousands: "that guy with the hairy chest", "the really white guy". He said "don't look at me" so often he was starting to sound like Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet. At times he seemed like a stern headmaster: when some baulked at his instruction to embrace a stranger - we were already nude, what more did he want? - he said that anyone who didn't should get out.

"Please, I speak no English," a German man said to the Herald's stunned correspondent as he embraced him.

Classical music lovers often complain that they need more bums on seats, so Tunick obliged by staging his next set-up in the Opera House Concert Hall. With one last difficult, possibly dangerous request that we stand on the seats while simultaneously draping ourselves backwards, Tunick finished to thunderous applause. It was almost a disappointment to put one's clothes back on.

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