Did I Sell Myself Away?

Last week, I conquered my worst fear. I stood on a stage in front of thousands of strangers, in a cold and expansive exhibition hall, naked.

You know that dream you have? The one in which you show up to class or your office, and you notice people staring. You look down, only to find that you had forgotten to get dressed that morning. You’re so horrified that you’re often shocked out of your sleep, and come to the sweaty realisation that you are safely bundled up in your bed. Last Saturday, I lived that raging recurring nightmare, the one that often comes to you in times of stress, as your brain tries to unravel your subconscious thoughts. However, there was no pinching myself, and there was no waking up. And instead of blaming my subconscious, the only thing I had to blame was myself.

I had discussed my decision to take a body painting job with my family over Christmas break. My family are liberal and always supportive of my decisions - especially when it comes to making an extra buck or two. However, the decision to sell my body was an action which took considerable debate of my boundaries and ethics. What made this job any different from what you see in Playboy? Technically speaking, it was in fact, the same. I was to be stripped nude, made into art, exhibited to an audience, photographed, and published for the world to see. The question which my friends ask me, and the question which I ask myself remains: where do I personally draw the line between art and pornography, and did I abandon my dignity and sell myself away?

In 2014 in the London Mall Galleries, a painting was removed from the Society of Women Artists’ 153rd annual exhibition “after being deemed ‘disgusting’ and ‘pornographic’”. The piece was a portrait of Ms Ruby May, standing with a pipe in her mouth - however, it was not the tobacco smoking that had the public in outrage. It was, in fact, the exhibition of the female form which had offended men, women and children alike. The writer of an article in The Guardian quite rightly raises a point about classical art displayed in the National Gallery: “You can't help wondering if the affronted viewers frequenting Mall Galleries have ever sauntered over to the National Gallery, where Bronzino's erotically charged Allegory with Cupid and Venus (showing the boy archer fondling the naked goddess's breast) is on display to visiting school parties”. In this sense, it seems as if we have regressed to become old fashioned and, as my mother puts it, “square”. And as I de-robed, exposing myself to the scrutiny of the public eye, I had Ruby May in the back of my mind saying "fuck it, you're fine".

My role as the “Immaculate Virgin” last Saturday was a little different to the one of Ms Ruby May. I wasn’t smoking a pipe, or being outwardly provocative with my audience, but as far as I have been told, some men are attracted to the “innocent thing”. I was playing the role of someone pure and untouched, a virginal young woman with magical powers, a halo round my head, and tears streaming down my face. However, I do not believe that my nudity was of the pornographic nature. The exhibition was different to anything I had ever done before, and in fact more profound than other jobs in which I had been fully clothed. This job had a huge affect on both me, and the artist herself. As I watched her interviews with magazines and television studios, I realised how important this piece was to her, and how important it was to show the beauty of the female form and religion in art. Both of us stood for 8 hours in the convention center, being vulnerable in our own ways - her with her heart, and I with my body.

A note from the artist:

“I’m usually a private person, but I thought this important to share.. I have a strong faith, and have always felt a connection to the blessed virgin. This past week my uncle whom I loved dearly passed away unexpectedly at the age of 58. This was a tough week for my family. I went to Mass on Thursday to find some peace over the loss of Jim. (Jim was a man of faith, love, he was always willing to help anyone.. he was selfless, humble.. and had a larger than life personality!) During this demo on Saturday, as I was painting .. I painted with my heart, with reverence, fighting back tears.. with my soul. This was a hard one for me.. as I allowed myself to be completely vulnerable as an artist and put all of myself into to bringing her to life, as a modern expressionistic blessed mother. I hope you enjoy. “

This was not prostitution, this was not pornography, merely tasteful and meaningful artistic expression.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/jul/07/painting-pornographic-pubic-hair-outrage