The following pages feature articles from
issue 49 of Piercing Fans International
Quarterly, 1992. Over 25 years have
passed, but the art was as vital then as it is
today. Used with the permission of
Gauntlet Enterprises.

The following pages feature articles from issue 49 of Piercing Fans International Quarterly, 1992. Over 25 years have passed, but the art was as vital then as it is today. Used with the permission of Gauntlet Enterprises

Body modification can be thought of as a physical manifestation of conceptual thought. As our culture becomes more conceptually focused, many people now deal with body manipulation, although for most it is unintentional. We eat regardless of whether or not we are hungry. We sleep according to arbitrary schedules. We dress with little thought to the surrounding environment. We allow the mind, rather than the body, to control our physical actions. Because this behavior is so prevalent in our culture, it is understandable that it is being represented in contemporary art.

The act of piercing is about forcing my body to take a back seat to my thoughts and allowing my mind to decide what is going to be done in order to create work. The final product of my art generally takes the form of photographs which are displayed alone or included in an installation. The piercings are real, not photographic tricks. Viewers ask why I don’t retouch the photographs to make it “look like” the piercing depicted; I think it is vital that the manipulation is real. This is the point where the idea of performance and time enter my work. The action becomes a tangible, genuine form of conceptual thought. Moreover, the experience informs the work and the artist.

Recently, I did a series of work dealing with social stigmatization and penalization. I was researching legislation created to publicly identify sex offenders and reading articles written by policy-makers discussing the use of shaming as a plausible, economical form of punishment.

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s book The Scarlet Letter and the incident a few years ago when the American teenager was caned in public for a vandalism offense in Singapore also seemed relevant to my investigation. It seemed that body manipulation was a natural way of dealing with these issues.

In one piece, a red plastic tag was attached to my ear with a labret. In big letters, it read “Sodomist” and beneath it was “Unlawful to Remove, Sec 602 VA Penal Code.” I wore this in public for several days. It gave me a greater sense of the ideas I was dealing with and helped me open up to possibilities for new work. It also seemed that it was an important way for getting this kind of art work out of the galleries and art magazines and into the daily lives of a broader audience.

In another piece, I had a piece of muslin sewn to my back on which was stenciled the word “fetishist.” Again, I wore it in public for several days. The clothes I wore for the piece consisted of blue jeans and a blue chambray shirt with the back cut open. It forced people to wonder about their own views of stigmatization and shame first hand—not just theoretically.

Was this person a sex offender? Who did this to him? Is this an art piece? Is this real? How would I feel if someone did this to my brother?

I enjoy getting pierced. This shouldn’t have any bearing on my art, and I would hope I would have created this work even if I didn’t enjoy the process. It is a kind of pleasure that is both physical and psychological. It gives me a strong, physical sense of mind over body when I watch someone taking a needle and putting it through my body. However, because it causes me so much pleasure, I am careful about deciding what projects to take on. I have to consider the roots of my need to do a particular project. Is there artistic merit in this endeavor? Am I using art as an excuse to do harm to myself? It can be a very fine line. To make sure I am on strong footing before undertaking a project, I allow several months to consider and develop the project before executing my plans. I also talk about the piece with other people before going forward. I make the final decision. However, I think it is a good idea to sound out projects thoroughly before hand, especially if they have a high element of physical, psychological, or even financial risk.

I look forward to including more body modification in my work. One of the greatest challenges for artists using this approach in their work is to avoid being regarded as a side show freak. I want to take the audience beyond shock and have them move into the more subtle, personal, and aesthetic dimensions of the work. v

PHOTO CREDITS:

For Fetishist: Piercing by Chance of Gauntlet, Inc. Photography by Lynn Borowitz.

© 1996 by Dave Tavacol.

For Sodomist: Piercing by Jo

of Body Manipulations. Photography by artist.

© 1996 by Dave Tavacol.

Article by Taj Waggaman

Photos by Peter Ross

The following pages feature articles from issue 49 of Piercing Fans International Quarterly, 1992. Over 25 years have passed, but the art was as vital then as it is today. Used with the permission of Gauntlet Enterprises.

No performance issue would be complete without including Julie Tolentino Wood.

Julie is based in New York but was born in San Francisco in 1965. Now aged 30—turning 31 in October— she is truly bi-coastal. With a very full plate and a lot of integrity, Julie serves up plenty of goodies. She works with Ron Athey and David Rousseve, runs the Clit Club in New York, and is a student of many things, including acupuncture and yoga. Having Julie as part of the family is a pleasure, and

I was excited when I was asked to interview her.

With Ron and David, her family, and many friends in California, she keeps a nottoo-distant hand on the West coast. With the management of three companies (her own, David’s, and Ron’s), Julie is constantly planning a tour, event or performance. She tries to sustain balance in all her achievements, her body playing just about the biggest role in her life. Yoga, Chinese medicine, acupuncture, tattoos, piercings, and her latex glove fetish combine to help sustain this, her temple of creation.

Movement has been a part of her life from the beginning, and perhaps because of it Julie has always been a performer. Tattoos and piercings were a natural progression, still just expressions of her body. Most of Julie’s tattoos are commemorative; one of my favorites is the word “loved” on the back of her neck. It’s so great because when you read it you feel loved too.

Julie enjoys her piercings and the experiences that go with them. Crystal Cross from Primeval Body in LA pierced Julie’s vertical nipple piercing. Raelyn Gallina pierced her nostril. Brian Murphy of Gauntlet San Francisco pierced her triangle.

One of Julie’s more rewarding piercing experiences occurred when she and Brian were in London to do a performance with Ron Athey and company. The piercing took place at Alex Binnie’s shop, Into You, where Brian was training another piercer. Ron, Crystal, Pig Pen, and Darryl came along as onlookers. Julie said she wanted some- thing to make her feel like a princess, not a queen. She felt she knew all the queens. As it turned out the “princess” got a labret piercing with a tiny diamond.

1990, the year she turned 25, was very significant for Julie. This was the year she was introduced as part of Reality, David Rousseve’s New York company. She also started the Clit Club. Previously involved as an activist for gay rights and AIDS awareness, she worked with Act-Up and other organizations, championed womens’ rights, and worked to fight racism. She was also a primary caregiver—her first experience—for Ray Navaro, a dear friend suffering with AIDS.

During this time Julie describes herself as seem- ingly tireless. Every aspect of her life was a full time commitment. It was not unusual for her to wake up, go to class, from class to rehearsal, run errands, maybe take a nap, go to the club, and put in a shift as a caregiver for Ray at four o’clock in the morning. The next day was a repeat.

In November of 1990 Ray passed away. In his memory Julie had a flying dragon tattooed on her left shoulder. 1992 was the year Julie discovered yoga. She also met Ron Athey. For about a year they had spoken on the phone. They finally met at a tattoo convention. Both were a bit nervous about meeting the other.

When Julie was introduced to Ron’s work, it became clear to her that this was something she wanted to be involved in. She also felt a sense of protectiveness towards Ron and this work. The rawness and realness of what he was expressing as well as the special chemistry between them encouraged her to become involved as choreographer, performer, co-di- rector, and Ron’s manager.

In addition to working with Ron, Julie has done many solo pieces and collaborations. When I met her two years ago she was doing a performance in San Francisco with Diviana Ingravallo called “Through Our Blood.” Since then Julie and I have performed a very light piece together at the Clit Club. Our friend Patty Powers was stripping and gave myself and two others lap dances. Julie pierced us on stage. I guess that’s what we get for being “bad girls” with our cigars.

This past June at a club in New York called Pork, I was for- tunate to see Julie and her lover/collaborator Tjet Clark do a show entitled “Five Elements” (fire, water, earth, air, metal).

When I heard Julie was planning to incorporate acupunc- ture and body work into her already busy schedule, I asked if that meant she’d have to give something up. She replied, “Well, I’m not getting off the stage!” They just make sense to her and compliment everything else she does.

Julie’s blood runs through everything she is a part of. If you have the opportunity, see one of her performances at the Clit Club in New York City where she appears every Friday night. v