Penises galore
Oct. 26th, 2004 02:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imomusThe other day I was looking at penises in my favourite bookstore, ProQM. No, no, wait, I was looking at books. But the most interesting ones contained penises galore. I spent quite a while with Painful But Fabulous: The Life and Art of Genesis P-Orridge. In fact I may have to buy it, so it can sit on my shelf next to Wreckers of Civilisation. Although I love '20 Jazz Funk Greats', I find Genesis more interesting to read about -- and look at -- than to listen to. I met him once at an opening at the October Gallery in London. He was sweet and polite, just like french shock rocker (and architect) Costes was when I interviewed him after a show in which he'd writhed naked, pissed on the audience and pelted us with spinach-shit, or Ron Athey was when I met him at the Threadwaxing Space on Broadway. Genesis used to do so many performances in which he unzipped and writhed that it's hardly surprising that I misread this Amazon synopsis of the new biography:
'In this omnibus collection of the career of the seminal alternative artist and musician Genesis P-Orridge, the legendary performer opens his files to show the world never-before-seen texts, photos, artwork and magic...'
Oh, the seminal artist opens his files. Got you. As he advances into a dignified middle age, Genesis begins to look more and more like a woman (and, in my opinion, better and better). So one really doesn't know what the naked Genesis would look like at all these days. Oh, hang on, one does if one goes to his website:
The other book at ProQM to catch my imagination -- well, to leave nothing to my imagination, actually -- was the Terry Richardson supplement to the new edition of Purple Fashion.
Terry has such a psychopathic need to show his penis at every opportunity that it's become the cute mascott of the fashion world, and when you see a famous fashion model kneeling to suck it jokily in Terry's new book it's like watching someone petting a kitten or cooing over a baby panda. Aw, sweet, Terry's penis!
There are lots of reasons to be in favour of nakedness, especially male nakedness. It deconstructs the mystique of male authority, makes sex seem less alien and threatening, brings us closer to nature, speaks in favour of openness and transparency, can be a sexy experience, can be a humbling experience, whatever. I like it when people, for instance, have at least one LiveJournal user photo depicting them naked (as at least one of my LJ friends does). But I can also see the argument that hiding the body makes nakedness more special, and that perhaps true lovers of nakedness don't share it or shake it in your face. I used to have a naked picture of myself on my website, but I covered my nakedness with more nakedness -- the stone flesh of Michaelangelo's David, to be precise -- because people started posting the photo to bulletin board discussions I was arguing on, and winning. 'You may be right,' they seemed to say, 'but look, you're naked!'
Nevertheless, I have nothing but admiration for the Costes, Genesis P-Orridges and Terry Richardsons of this world. They're doing the public nakedness thing so I don't have to.
'In this omnibus collection of the career of the seminal alternative artist and musician Genesis P-Orridge, the legendary performer opens his files to show the world never-before-seen texts, photos, artwork and magic...'
Oh, the seminal artist opens his files. Got you. As he advances into a dignified middle age, Genesis begins to look more and more like a woman (and, in my opinion, better and better). So one really doesn't know what the naked Genesis would look like at all these days. Oh, hang on, one does if one goes to his website:
The other book at ProQM to catch my imagination -- well, to leave nothing to my imagination, actually -- was the Terry Richardson supplement to the new edition of Purple Fashion.
Terry has such a psychopathic need to show his penis at every opportunity that it's become the cute mascott of the fashion world, and when you see a famous fashion model kneeling to suck it jokily in Terry's new book it's like watching someone petting a kitten or cooing over a baby panda. Aw, sweet, Terry's penis!
There are lots of reasons to be in favour of nakedness, especially male nakedness. It deconstructs the mystique of male authority, makes sex seem less alien and threatening, brings us closer to nature, speaks in favour of openness and transparency, can be a sexy experience, can be a humbling experience, whatever. I like it when people, for instance, have at least one LiveJournal user photo depicting them naked (as at least one of my LJ friends does). But I can also see the argument that hiding the body makes nakedness more special, and that perhaps true lovers of nakedness don't share it or shake it in your face. I used to have a naked picture of myself on my website, but I covered my nakedness with more nakedness -- the stone flesh of Michaelangelo's David, to be precise -- because people started posting the photo to bulletin board discussions I was arguing on, and winning. 'You may be right,' they seemed to say, 'but look, you're naked!'
Nevertheless, I have nothing but admiration for the Costes, Genesis P-Orridges and Terry Richardsons of this world. They're doing the public nakedness thing so I don't have to.