Naked and Famous
There’s a bit of absurdity in hanging Portrait of a Preschooler under Spencer Tunick’s nude(s):
Not just because it is a photo of naked bodies (close-up below) but because I could have been one of his models.
In the summer of 1996 I was living in New York City and going to lots of parties. My friend Patty had a high level job at a top advertising firm with a lot of perks. Coupled with her charms and wiles, she could get us inside any door in the city.
Here we are at some after-hours party in some loft in some downtown neighborhood:
Notice Patty’s charm and wiles. Notice my dead-eyed stare but incredible skin. I always wanted to be a Goth but then I moved to Bermuda.
The summer of 1996. Polaroids were hot and krispy kremes were served on platters by leather-clad S&M club kids at every party. The Internet Boom. Infused vodkas. Smoking indoors. An unfortunate navel piercing. Outside of documenting THAT SKIN, this Polaroid also documents the night I met the then relatively unknown Spencer Tunick. He was cruising the party looking for models for a shoot that morning. Because what he did was illegal, he shot at 4am and quickly. I remember taking his card, listening intently, getting really excited about being a part of a subversive and scandalous scene, and then forgetting all about it by the time I stumbled home.
I’d like to think this was the shot I missed, but who knows:
With HBO documentaries and installations all over the world now, Spencer Tunick is a big deal. I don’t have many regrets but not dragging my lilly white ass back downtown that morning is certainly one of them. Instead I bought a print and had it framed. Maybe it’s time for another purchase. Either way you can bet I signed up here in the off-chance I get a second chance. Portrait of a Mother.