Performance Art Houston

Casey Waldner performed her first performance art piece, entitled Refund, this past February as part of Houston's International Performance Art Festival, Experimental Action*. One unique aspect of Experimental Action is that in order to fulfill a part of its mission to nurture the Houston performance art scene, it offers opportunities for beginner performance artists alongside well established artists. Casey is a glowing example of an artist, new to performance art, taking this opportunity and creating something beautiful and powerful. When asking her more about her process and intentions of the piece, I deeply resonated with her process. This piece is a shining example of how performance art can function as healing ritual, catharsis and personal transformation. In her writings she explains how this piece functions as healing for her, but it is important to connect how her actions have a healing effect on the audience as well. To witness a woman push through the unspoken rules that are placed upon her in this culture, rewrites the rules of being a woman; for Casey obviously, but also for those that truly witnessed her brave and righteous rebellion.

Here are some words from Casey about her piece:

“Refund” was initially inspired by the emotional reaction of disgust I experienced when I was informed that there was talk of mandating a rule for abortion clinics to cremate the fetal remains/miscarriages of their patients. To me, this was an obvious act of shaming women, their bodies, and gave more care, attention, and value to the dead tissue that was removed from a woman’s body, rather than nurturing and healing the the life of the woman who had just gone through an emotionally and physically traumatizing ordeal. I told my neighbor and local performance artist, Cat Scott, that hearing this news created an opportunity and gave me the  confidence to speak my truth in a way I had never explored before-- the medium of Performance Art! I have been fortunate to speak/express my truth in my music ventures and art pieces, but nothing as raw as recreating a vigilante fantasy in my mind. Charged with all my feelings and with the intention to connect with an audience in a raw manner, I wanted to literally and figuratively spill my guts! And after overcoming a serious bout of bulimia in my formative years, I knew I could throw up on cue, a talent learned, again, from the shame of what I put into my body. It all seemed so equivalent in significance to exposing the shame and oppression that women face as perceived items of beauty and reproduction. I wanted to show my disgust, I wanted it to be vibrant, and I wanted to channel all the sadness/pain I’d experienced from acting out shamefully upon myself as well as represent those women shamed by society because they didn’t fit into the "ideal female form," a mold our delusional culture has created via the oppression of women.

The vision of my performance “Refund” was clear to me. I wanted to have 7 white boxes with baby blue bows, that graduated in size, and yielded jars of watery beets (gifts). The bigger the box the more jars of beets were in the box. This allowed me to pace myself upon reacting to each gift of beets and also served to mentally prepare me to consume the beets, knowing that the workload of consuming them would only increase, or get worse to the point of physical discomfort, causing me to vomit.

I wore my most feminine baby blue dress, clipped in hair extensions, and made myself look as preened and “pretty” as possible. I wanted to put a lot of effort into my appearance, only to slowly dismantle it by the stains of my own gluttony and vomit, which I shamefully kept trying to correct/hide. It was coincidentally appropriate that my color scheme was red, white, and blue.

I had a purse filled with makeup, a mirror, and a white chair on stage. After eating/accepting each gift I would to return to my chair and try to make myself look perfect again, a ritual that became more and more impossible to accomplish, causing an eventual meltdown, which I genuinely experienced onstage.

I began to bond with the beets onstage, as if they were my own fetal remains. I relished them at first, became resentful towards them, experienced extreme guilt and sadness for interacting with them at all, and finally felt relief to release/vomit them from my body- yet still attempting to clean up my “mess” afterwards, perpetuating the cycle of shame until eventually

accepting the mess I ended up becoming, releasing me from all outside expectation.

The end of my piece was probably one of the happiest, most cathartic moments of my life. Everything disgusting I felt of had experienced was made public, there was no shame, and I actually felt good for vomiting in public- something that I had done previously only in secret. I got to connect with people on a deeper level and I feel like Refund offered something for everyone to connect with, which was my main goal, to connect and relate my experiences/interpretations with those that might need healing, or a voice around the subject matter. I had never experienced something so profound and healing. I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to be involved with ExA. Since my involvement in the festival I have a whole new perspective of the art I make, new conversations with the people I meet, and more involvement in my community. Thank you to everyone who made it possible for me to bring a vision to life.

Photography Credits:

Photo 1: Unknown, Photo 2: Tyler Price, Photo 3 and 4: Rebecca Burwell

On Performance Art and Leading Experimental Action

An Interview with Julia Claire Wallace by Michael McFadden 

This interview originally appeared in the Monthly Newsletter of the University of Houston’s Arts Leadership Alumni and Student Association in April 2017.

Michael McFadden is a Houston-based writer and arts administrator. He earned a BA in Political Science from the University of Texas at San Antonio and an MA in Arts Leadership from the University of Houston. His writing has been published in Arts+Culture Texas, Free Press Houston, Houstonia, and Suplex Voice. He is a former member of the Houston and Chicago-based curatorial collaborative Suplex and has aided in the presentation of works by numerous artists and curators. Read Michael’s writings and learn more about him at his website - www.pugintheair.com

Michael McFadden, MAAL (Masters of Arts in Arts Leadership) alumni, catches up with Julia Wallace, a student currently in the MAAL program about her recent experience organizing Experimental Action (and her views on performance art, in general). Michael McFadden (MM): Something I've noticed about performance art is that it often gets lumped in as a practice within visual art. Do you feel that this is accurate, or do you feel it should be considered/contextualized outside of visual art? Julia Wallace (JW): I can't say that I have noticed the same thing. Although, my background and my journey to performance art happened through my love and study of painting. I am familiar with looking through the lens of visual art and I have a fondness for it, but I have found that many people look at performance art as a type of theater or a type of visual poetry. Those genres are a big part of the history. Sound/noise is another one. I think one of the strengths and values of Performance Art is that it constantly blurs and therefore questions/breaks/expands/re-establishes boundaries and I love that. I do highly recommend that it should be considered and contextualized outside of visual arts, although I think that context can bring some valuable insights, but it is limiting and inaccurate to constrain it by that frame. I like looking at Performance Art in the context of life and living, I think that has been the most insightful for me. MM: What was it that led you from painting to performance? JW: At the time I was painting portraits of people I knew based off of photos that they used to represent themselves. The process of recreating an image of people with the paint; filtering their image through my body, my recreation limited by my perception and ability, based off of one image they chose to show became this incredibly transformative process. Each portrait was an experience that altered my perception and connection to the subject, forever impacting my relationship with these people-- and with all people. I gained a deeper understanding of the way we perceive each other and the distance, filters and obstacles that exist between one another. Creating a transformative experience for myself and for others became infinitely more interesting to me than any object that was created in the process. Elia Arce was teaching performance art at UH at that time and she and her classes had a huge influence on my journey. I took every performance art-related class offered during the remainder of my studies. MM: Can you elaborate on the idea of performance art being a transformative experience? You mentioned that with your painting series there was a process of each piece impacting your own perception. How does this shape your performances, your practice? How might you translate/present the experience to your audience? JW: Henry Miller says that, "Whatever there be of progress in life comes not through adaptation but through daring, through obeying the blind urge." This quote captures the spirit of evolution and growth that are the heart of my own personal passion for performance art. There are many ways of utilizing the medium, and many understandings of how it should be done. I will speak to my own. I see and interact with the world as something evolving. It slowly, beautifully and sometimes painfully and violently moves towards less suffering, more joy and more ability; towards thriving. I believe that creativity can be a means of tapping into and facilitating/expediting that process. I have spent lots of my life examining my driving forces. I have learned to recognize the blind urge that Henry Miller mentions in myself, and I believe these blind urges are often an attempt of the subconscious to become conscious. Following these urges and turning them into actions performed with awareness, expands consciousness of the artist. I also believe that the world and the movement forward is something that transcends our individuality. We are connected, to each other and to the world as a whole. The individual moving forward is connected to the whole moving forward. These urges do not only serve my own movement forward, but they are part of a movement as a whole. As above, so below. I do not create art as a clear message I am trying to convey. I am not a preacher. In my artwork. Through my art, I change. Through changing I lead, inspire and naturally facilitate change for the whole- sometimes more directly and sometimes indirectly. My artwork is so varied I cannot give you a clear formula of what this looks like, but these ideas and intentions are woven through all my work as well as through the way I choose live my life. MM: When you organized Experimental Action (with your entire team, of course), you filled a gap in Houston and highlighted local, regional, national, and international artists that really showed what you just stated about how varied Performance Art can be. Shifting this interview from artist to admin, what did you learn from the process? JW: First of all, in case anyone is curious about the varied views of performance art, I have comprised a collection of some of the best explanations available online here. I learned so many things and yes, I worked with an amazing team (a big shout out to Jana Whatley, Evan McCarley and Jonatan Lopez!). The lesson that stands out the most is how important to do things with integrity. This festival was wonderful on so many levels but it was tumultuous in that there were many surprises. When unexpected controversy or drama arose, it saved me lots of grief to be grounded in my own integrity. Any mistakes I made were easy to admit and I could take the lessons gratefully and gracefully and any controversial decisions that I made were easy to stand behind because I truly believed in my personal stance. This festival was also an incredible affirmation towards taking a risk for great rewards. I am a very careful and safe person, and I never would have taken the financial risk of this festival if I would have realized at the onset how small the budget would end up being. By the time I realized that no ships were coming in, there was no going back. Yet we managed to be successful without a financial situation that ensured that safety. I never would have believed we could accomplish what we did with what we ended up having (many thanks to the generous volunteers and artists!). I feel inspired to have more faith and take more *but still careful* risks. I also am really glad to have lots more time and education to plan and prepare financially for the next festival! I also learned how important and incredible it is to make love and respect the basis of your team's relationship. As often happens when people are doing a huge project (that they aren't getting paid for), we had a few emotionally turbulent moments, but we got through the festival with an underlying deep love and respect for each other. That makes this kind of experience even more valuable than just the art experience that is produced. More information can be found at: www.experimentalaction.com MM: To wrap up, how could the others from our program learn more about the Performance Art scene in Houston? And what other projects do you have in the works? JW: Check out my website and check out the blog to see information about past performance art in Houston and then like my page on Facebook at to hear about upcoming performance art shows and events. I am still recovering from the big festival but there will be a performance art night coming up in the future, and they are always an adventure as well as a great chance to get a taste of performance art. If you are interested you can even propose your own piece and try some performance art creation yourself, just reach out and let me know your idea! I love when someone shares their first piece, and the community is incredibly encouraging to new performers. You can also keep an eye out for new curated performance art shows on my Performance Art Houston Instagram @performancearthouston on Instagram. That project is also taking a little break, but I will be announcing a new show when I can and it will be worth the wait. I work with talented curators who have do a wonderful job collecting performance artists from all over the world. I encourage you to look back and explore the varied and insightful explorations of the Instagram platform through some innovative performance art.

Sugar Pop Kitty Rush happened this last November, this event featured sugar/pop/kitty/rush themed visual, performance and sound art. The seemingly light-hearted theme mixed with the discomfort of recent election results and the mystical, smiling darkness that seems to be an integral element of Houston’s performance art scene. It created a strange atmosphere in which multiple sound pieces and performance art expressions volleyed attention throughout the maze-like warehouse. One of the more participatory elements was a “Spanking Suite" conceived by Houston performance artist, Julia Claire. This experiential piece, drew a steady crowd of participants throughout the night. Many participants tried things they had never tried before, exploring new edges and some revealed their previously undisclosed experience in the area resulting in a sweet sense of connection and community in the little dark room. The following is a journal-like account of one attendee’s experience.

From a participant/attendee: 

The room resembled a chapel. Through the red beaded curtain, which occasionally a curious onlooker would poke their head through, there was an odd sense of serenity and intimacy. My friend D. found me lounging with a beer in one of the four wooden seats, which could have been ripped out of some aging auditorium. They gave me, and anyone else in the small audience a great view of the supplicants, prostrated before the two alters. Four or five priestesses, dominatrices of varying experience dressed in complex black costumes, stood in stark contrast against the plain white walls. The lighting was soft and somewhat diffuse, compared to the steady rhythm of cracking whips and the occasional gasp of pain.

D. went first, and bent over the sawhorse covered in red velvet. One or two other voyeurs watched with me as a couple of dominatrices let him pick out the tools of his voluntary torment. They came in many shapes, sizes, and materials. Some, like a heart shaped riding crop that would end up breaking by the end of the night, were hard and unforgiving. Others, like one of the softer scourges, were relatively soft and benign. Their arsenal came in almost any shape you could imagine, and each priestess of pain and pleasure had their own style.

As D. bent over side by side with a rather pretty woman whose acquaintance I had not yet made, it was clear how vulnerable their positions left them. Between the two, a dominatrix with a somewhat commanding presence stood, and gently rubbed soft scarves and plush toys against their bare skin to distract them from the bite. Over the course of the night I became interested in how some folk arched their back in a pleasing sort of shape, while others as though they were cats hissing at some imagined foe. C. scoured D.’s back, butt, and thighs fairly softly at first, but with a steadily rising tempo. She wore a bodice with thick clasps, a frilly skirt over stockings, and kitty ears, and her tool was an orange and black scourge. I was especially interested in how she asked permission to touch D., even though they knew each other and he would probably find it soothing. Occasionally, she’d stop and caress him softly, and ask him how he was doing. I gathered that communication was key, and throughout they never stopped checking in.

I was excited when it was my turn. I asked C. to facilitate the experience for me, since I already knew her. Out of a sense of machismo, I tauntingly told her that I didn’t want her to hold back. I have to admit that I felt nervous, and the room seemed brighter under the sole lamp, directly facing the blank wall. The audience were just a series of shadows along the wall from where I now stood. She started with the soft scourge she’d used on D., and I joked that I couldn’t feel it. She tried harder, and I yelled back “What is this, baby, fun times?” Eventually, with a laugh, she asked if I’d like to show her how it was done. I took the whip from her, and she bent over the velvet altar. The various whips all had their own heft to them, but I liked the flourish of this particular scourge. I rolled it around with my wrist to gain momentum and cracked it sideways just under the hem of her skirt. After a few lashes, I asked her if I could touch, and shyly ran my hand over the red marks on her soft buttocks.

When she stood up I asked the women assembled there who thought they had the strongest arm. They all agreed that one in particular, the only not dressed entirely in black, fit my criteria. I remember being surprised. She was much smaller than me, very thin and fragile looking, but with long arms and nimble fingers. She grabbed the riding crop, and had me bend over. Someone asked me if I wanted to keep my pants on, and I insisted that I did.

The first strike was loud, right where my butt turns into thigh, and my feet nearly came off the ground. I immediately wondered what I had gotten myself into. The commanding lady gently rubbed a gray striped scarf against my arm, which felt nice, and distracted me momentarily. We had already agreed to stop or wait whenever I had asked, but I let her continue with only occasional breaks until I felt like my knees might buckle.

When I was asked about possibly having sparklers in the front of the venue, I pointed out that they are very illegal and that if we were to risk such a thing, it might be best to move the piece away from the venue-- across the street, perhaps? I explained to the artist that the only caveat that the owner has given me is to careful with fire and not to bring a lot of suspicion-inspiring attention to the store front. The artist listened and assured me that he would come up with something.

That he did. Lit sparklers were distributed to the audience, gathered in the front of the building. The musicians (one's curvaceous body tightly hugged by an American flag speedo) played a exuberantly dissonant version of the Star Spangled banner. Home made signs reading 'THE RIGHT TO IGNITE' were waved by the laughing and excited audience. Finally, a series of loud, bright, colorful, and illegal explosions shot high between the towering downtown buildings, serving as the surprise finale of the piece. The crowd was joyfully incredulous.

As the still-smiling attendees filtered back into the venue many remarked that surely a team of cop cars would be arriving shortly. I authentically played the part of a frazzled and terrified curator, rushing people inside and hiding any tell tale sign that a series of illegal fireworks were just set off in downtown. As the smoke cleared, it became clear that no cops were arriving. Most importantly, everyone was safe. Thankfully, I would not have to nervously explain to the authorities that absolutely nothing unusual had just happened. Also, the owner of the venue just happened to be away at the time, so he was spared from any stress, worry or negative repercussions. I wiped my forehead in relief and smiled. That was amazing.

Here are some words from the artist about the piece:

Clockpole is a bunch of talented musicians led by an untalented hack. We never practice, the members constantly change, and most of the members never know what will happen until right before we perform. To make up for our lack of preparation, Clockpole puts on a ridiculous spectacle.

Life hands out enough bullshit to drag everyone down so we try to do the opposite and let everyone have a good time. Everyone likes fireworks. I have fireworks. Why not light fireworks downtown on a work night? Oh, yeah, it's illegal. In an attempt to bring legitimacy to a bunch of heathens lighting fireworks downtown, Clockpole played the Star Spangled Banner, badly. (Underwood the trumpeter and Max the guitarist did practice and asked what key to play in. The rest of us told them the Key of Awesome).

In the end, I think it did turn out pretty awesome. Everyone had sparklers, the Star Spangled Banner sounded like a mess, the fireworks were top notch, and everyone was smiling and laughing when it was over. Mission accomplished.

****Disclaimer: This may not have actually happened and no one that runs this page or likes this page or comments on this post is at all inferring that any of these "fictional” occurrences are reality. Many thanks to our sponsor, Strings Attached Corp, for providing the computer graphics and photoshop fabricated images.****

SUGAR POP KITTY RUSH

OPEN CALL TO ARTISTS! Visual/Sound/Performance/ETC.

DEADLINE FOR ALL SUBMISSIONS: October 26th 2016, midnight

EVENT SCHEDULED: November 12th 2016 @El Rincon Social 3210 Preston St. Houston, TX 77003

Performance Art Houston is hosting the event, Sugar Pop Kitty Rush, an art party celebrating our creative community. The theme for this party is the title “Sugar Pop Kitty Rush.” Use these words as your inspiration! We encourage things associated with cuteness with an emphasis on plush pastels, sweetness, opulence, decadence, excess, marshmallows, kittens, sparkle, luster, and generally everything fluffy. We are accepting submissions/proposals from performance artists, musicians/DJ’s/noise and sound artists, and visual artists. Proceeds from this party are benefitting Experimental Action a, International performance art festival occurring in Feb 2017 showcasing artists from around the globe performing alongside local Houston talent (www.experimentalaction.com).

Musicians/DJ’s/Noise and Sound Artists: SEND ALL SOUND SUBMISSIONS TO: Evan McCarley at [email protected]

Please include: -Your band/projects name (as you wish to have it printed) -A sample recording or brief description of genres you use for DJ’s (if we haven’t heard you already) -A list of equipment you will be providing for yourself, any needs you may have in regards to equipment, and any equipment you are willing to share for the duration of the event.

Performance Artist’s (and those that do not easily fit in the category of visual or sound): SEND ALL PERFORMANCE SUBMISSIONS TO: Julia Wallace at [email protected] Please include: -Title (if there is one) -Detailed list of materials you will be using -Detailed proposal/ description of your action -Any requests or ideas about the spatial needs of your piece. -Detailed description of any messes that may occur because of your piece.

Visual Artist’s: SEND ALL VISUAL SUBMISSIONS TO : Jana Whatley at [email protected] All submissions should include: any special installation specifications. We are encouraging all artists to price their work to sell. You do not have to sell your work to be in the show. For all of the artists who are selling work we are asking for a donation of at least 20% of every sale be donated towards Experimental Action. You are of course welcome to contribute more if you are feeling generous. With every piece submitted please include the following: -Title (if there is one.) -Medium/Materials -Name of Artist (written as you wish to have it printed) -Dimensions (Height x Width x Depth) -Image of your piece (jpg or png)

There is no limit to the number of pieces you can submit. However, we do reserve the right to reject any work that we feel does not contribute to the aesthetic environment that we are going for. We want to be supportive of any and all art but we are also trying to create a really immersive experience for our party goers. All artists will be responsible for installing their own work on the day of the show and uninstalling immediately after. Any work left on site after the allotted time for cleanup will be considered a donation to Performance Art Houston. We will shamelessly hang it in our living rooms and foyers. The curators will determine where work will be placed based on aesthetic flow. If you work has specific needs we are willing to make accommodations and have a conversation about options. Administrators will be on site and available to assist with any MINOR needs that may arise. We do ask that you provide your own installation tools and any hardware that you may need. Please be respectful of the space and mindful of the effects that installing your work will have on the environment. It is a shared working space for a number of other artists and they have graciously invited us into their home.

Performance Ary Houston is hosting a series of performance art events on Instagram! 

Follow this link for more info about our currently running show! 

http://www.performancearthouston.com/not-like-the-other.html

Performance Art Houston is facilitating a series of groundbreaking performance art events based in Instagram!

FOLLOW @PERFORMANCEARTHOUSTON on instagram and enjoy this unparalleled experience!

The first show of this series, Not Like the Other, will be curated by Houston artist and writer Brandon Zech. From October 10th through November 20th, individual artists will take up residency in Performance Art Houston’s Instagram account and facilitate performances and gestures as their works within the show. Every week, the account will pass hands to a new artist who will then begin with their performances.

Not Like the Other features work by:

Megan Solis Evan L. McCarley Lauren Moya Ford Eric Thayer Iva Kinnaird Pierre Krause

Drawing on the idea of otherness, Zech has assembled six artists who occupy a liminal role in their environment. Each artist does this differently: Megan Solis deals with aspects of social anxiety and hyperawareness; Evan L. McCarley challenges the traditional roles women play in society; Lauren Moya Ford studies the complications of communicating across borders; Eric Thayer draws on the community in which he lives; Iva Kinnaird questions the nature of what performance is; and Pierre Krause navigates what it means to be a human living in the world today. The second exhibition of the series will begin in mid-November and will be curated by Los Angeles’ performance artist, writer and curator Autumn Hays (www.autumnhays.com).

For more information about the show, the curator and each individual artist check out the press release here: http://www.performancearthouston.com/press.html

For more information about Performance Art Houston visit: www.performancearthouston.com

Shoo fly don't bother me! http://ift.tt/2dLzOae

One of the things about Performance Art Night that gives me great joy is seeing an artist share a performance art piece for the very first time. That is one reason I am proud to feature a photo from Jennifer Free's first piece as the profile photo for Performance Art Houston. Jennifer's first piece was a visually stunning ritual, she symbolically embodied her own struggle in front of the audience, taking us with her to a place of healing and resolve. Here are a few words from Jennifer about her piece:

Celestina B-Sizzle performed a piece that was quite the conversation starter last month at Performance Art Night (PAN). Dressed in a school girl’s outfit and a pink wig, she sat flirtatiously on the stage at Notsuoh in front of her computer. She was performing for two crowds— one in Notsuoh and one viewing her through a sex cam website. Her conversations were projected behind her on the wall for all of the PAN attendees to read. She teased the online viewers, never actually masturbating or revealing her naked body. She continually asked for “TIP” and flirted in broken english. The online viewers did tip her and made many lascivious requests of her sexed up, childlike, seemingly unintelligent charade before she ripped off her wig, flipped off the online viewers and turned the camera around to reveal that they were being watched by a small crowd. She ended the piece with a bow and a final middle finger to the attendees.

Here are some words from the artist about the origin of this piece and her thoughts behind it:

For the May 25th performance, I wanted to put together a crowd pleaser. As a twenty-two-year-old female, one surefire way that I can enthrall people, particularly men, is by taking my clothes off. Or suggesting that I might. Arrogance withstanding, almost everyone wants to flirt with me. To quote experimental post-punk band The Waitresses: “I know what boys like/ I know what guys want

I know what boys like/ Boys like, boys like me.”

That is, until they learn that I have no intentions of gratifying them sexually. One recent example of this would be when popular Houston DJ/musician [Name Withheld] told me “The way you think is exhausting,” after I told him I wasn’t interested in going home with him.

But the intention of this piece goes far beyond local tiffs. Male resistance to sexual rejection is an issue that can be contextualized within such an instance, but obviously is in no way limited to such. When a woman says “No,” she risks much more than ire, and we often consider ourselves lucky when it ends thusly.    

The modern male sexual psychosis is informed by a history of patriarchy, then further compounded by internet pornography, dating apps, and sex sites. Together, these pixelated images of wanting women foster a new cultural landscape in which “no” is, once again, to be navigated and negotiated. With so many women screaming yes, a simple no becomes much more than a refusal—in our time, “no,” has become a sort of death. It should come as no surprise, then, that some men are willing to pay for sexual acceptance. One platform for such exchanges is Chaturbate, a popular voyeur website where subscribers tip cam-models to flirt, tease and perform sexual acts.

At Performance Art Houston's recent event, Ressurection of the Unholy Star, there were multiple performance art piece worthy of attention, but Jonatan Lopez's Fuck Machine perhaps grabbed the most attention and understandably so! After growing up gay in an extremely religious background, Jonatan's work often explores the idea of embracing pleasure and transcending religious constraints. The piece began as a moving installation, the repetitive motion of a large dildo moving back and forth within an (eventually flaming) pentagram created on the ground. Multiple oversized phalluses standing tall within the shape. The erotic movement's presence at the party creating a subtle titillation for attendees. Eventually, Jonatan found a man willing to be penetrated by the machine in exchange for money. The scene was short and uncomfortable to watch and there was no sense of pleasure. Then, to the artist's surprise, a young woman excitedly volunteered to experience the machine, she wanted no money. An audience gathered to watch the display-- a female orgasm, unabashed, unapologetic, uninhibited female sexual pleasure-- public, photos allowed. It wasn't until later that I realized what a revolutionary act that was. The performance art I always appreciate the most is a question, an experiment, and Jonatan created an opening, an opportunity to receive more than he expected... A palpable embodiment of revolutionary pleasure.

Here are some words from the artist about his piece-

“Be free, come as you are. Nothing is a sin. Nothing is forbidden. You are everlasting love and fearless pleasure. We are here to witness the freedom and the beauty of you, so abundant, so pure and so radiant."

For my performance at Resurrection of the Unholy Star I set up a fuck machine inside the shape of a pentagram drawn on the floor. I placed a large and supply of dildos in varied sizes around it as well as lots of lube. I didn’t expect for the audience to regard it as an interactive installation, I thought they would just take pictures and act curious around it. I was very surprised when two audience members asked if they could activate it full on. And so they did. Witnessing somebody orgasm through one of my performances in front of a large crowd is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. What they gave us was a gift, they showed us that there is no shame in sharing and flaunting the exciting ways in which you can find pleasure. You only get one body in this life, you might as well use it to it’s furthest potential, and you should be proud that you can do that. And what if it is shocking, there is so much beauty and excitement within shock. Long live shock. Make our eyebrows raise. Give us public erections, give us public orgasms. Embarrass us. Show us the purity and freedom that lies within what they call dirty or immoral. Sometimes I think I have learned everything there is to learn through performance art, but there is so much more.

At the February 2016 Performance Art Night, Raiska shared a touching and powerful piece about identity and family (her mother). She told us of an upsetting conversation with her mother and then proceeded to complete a series of actions that illustrated the aftermath. I will not forget the sight of blood running from her forehead or the lasting scar i saw on her face just yesterday when I ran into her at the Jenner House open mic. Here are a few words from the artist about her piece:

The piece starts with a few thoughts on the conception of individual identity and as a pseudo-freudian, I believe identity is primarily formed through identification with significant others - being the figure of the mom the most significant one; this is the hook to the next action in which I tell my last conversation with my mother, when she found out my identity was not an extension of hers. Though, I'm not proud of my approach to the conversation which brings the second act, when I tape my mouth with the word "bitch" in it while yelling and cursing. After a while, I calm down and bring a third act on which I decide to live (or put on) a social-mask, denying my true self to live the appearence that was expect from me. However, our inner idiosyncrasies urge to come out and that process may be very distressing and, in the piece, it appears as an itch, so dreadful that can bring us to the point where we may consider not-being better than being bringing the sucidal attempt into play. Finally, I tear the mask apart, letting my true face (my "true-self") come out, giving birth to my identity, showing, not only everybody present but also myself, that that's who I am: that's my body, my blood, my decisions. That's who I am and I love my mother.

"Who is the diety, or most important, who isn't?"

Brittani Alexandra Broussard shared this piece entitled, "A Shrine for A Diety" at Unholy Star. She created an altar featuring an animal skull filled with flowers, sage, cake and wine. Throughout the debaucherous event she performed a detailed ritual in which she beautifully engaged with her colorful altar. She freshly squeezed fruit, she shredded and scattered flowers. At first she honored the god on the altar in a white robe, reminiscent of a priestess, but as time moved on it is unclear whether she is offering the gifts to a diety or enjoying the offerings as a diety herself. She intricately costumed herself in colorful plastic and paper and danced. Then as a shimmering costumed creature she greedily consumes the decadent cake and drink covering the altar herself.Here is some writing that Brittani wrote to accompany her piece.

I give my offerings to you I praise you I'll give you everything that I have I come to you with nothing but rags I sprinkled petals around your shrine I squeezed fruit to quench your thirsty mind I made you sweets with my beaten up hands I placed it at the foot of your stand I gave you the last coins I had I adorned myself in the presence of you I danced for you I love you But the love for myself is even greater I hate for you to see this side so I'll cover your eyes The food looks good I apologize I want the money so I'll pocket it at my side I'm thirsty so I'll drink as I hide My self-indulgence is blooming with pride I love you but I love myself more I dance for myself like never before It is me who I adore