Recall the description of the cover art Spinal Tap wanted for their Smell the Glove album:
We laughed. We chuckled.
Now David Thompson points out:
You will, therefore, be thrilled to the tips of your nipples by Mr Fabre’s recent curatorial triumph. Sweat is a performance piece by Peter De Cupere, in which five fellow narcissists spend fourteen minutes rolling about and jumping up and down – naked, obviously – while attempting to fill their transparent plastic overalls with all manner of body odour. “The intention,” we’re told, “is to catch the sweat from the dancers and to distil it. The concrete of the sweat is sprayed on a wall of the dance lab and protected by a glass box. In the glass is a small hole where visitors can smell the sweat.”
Why yes, you unappreciative Philistines, you red-state-Norman-Rockwell-loving-bet-you-bowl-too anti-hipsters … Smell The Artist
Peter De Cupere is creating his smell. Not just a smell, but a composition of the smells of his body, skin of different parts, breath, sweat, sperm, spittle, nose drops, blood and many more smells you can imagine with a person. The smells are and will be subtracted on different times, after different moments, after special dinners made for himself by himself. A research that will go on his whole life. His first edition of his perfume will be soon available… The perfume is called ‘Peter’.
If you dare, David has a 14-minute video of Sweat …
In De Cupere’s defense, the same result will be cheaper than the current process costing four years of RISD tuition and board.
Ah, Jeebus … some people have too much time on their hands. We are so focked.
If the above has given you a hankering for more publicly subsidised art, you may want to take a peek at these mighty works. The third piece, a “bodily and textual discussion of flesh and opulence” by Austrian artist and choreographer Doris Uhlich, is particularly mighty. By which I mean, it features a fat naked narcissist and an awful lot of talc.
That middle piece there, where the two people sitting in the corner the audience?
this seems similar to “bio-hacking” just with an audience
Yes. That was the audience.
the tubey elephant trunk thing doesn’t seem to have any real function
I read a study sometime back, before the internet was around to depress me and I had to really on print, about a Russian experiment to domesticate foxes for the fur industry, the idea being tame foxes would be easier to farm.
Only adult foxes have coats suitable for the fur trade, the youngsters being naturally piebald. The problem that developed, was that domesticated foxes stayed piebald, they never developed a mature coat
It seems that domesticating canines is basically breeding into them a perpetual adolescence, dogs are to a large degree wolves that never grow up, never grow to mistrust humans, never feel the need to go out on their own.
Seeing shit like this makes me wonder if humans share the same trait, is this perpetual adolescence a natural by-product of civilization? Is it only going to get worse as we become more domesticated?
This is one of the many reasons I stopped making ART. You have no idea the S**T that passes for conceptual Art. Add to that mixture the aggressive and aggrieved sub-culture sensativities and you have a climate in which only perverted ideas exsist.
I used to be able to spell. What the fuck.
I actually do continue to make ART, but it is finding the time that is the problem, not inspiration or motivation.
B Moe: The claim is that you only need 40% of the letters of word and not necessarily in order to recognize it as a word. So, there is that. By the by; I have wanted to ask you ….B Moe what?
B. Moe Hipp.
A joke name I used sitting in with a friends country band back in the day that stuck as a nickname. One of many that I have.
That was my understanding, without the Hipp.
B Moe
here you go
50 years of research on foxes in order to figure out how wolves became dogs.
Alls I know is, Fran Drescher was super fire hot back in the day. The nanny character? Not so much.
As for this business, it almost becomes academic to point out that South Park already did the parody. Witness the “Smug” episode, where the cloud of smug from George Clooney’s Oscar acceptance speech collided with the general smug from San Francisco, and the new cloud coming out of South Park, where everyone was driving hybrids. In San Fran, people walked around with wine glasses in hand, farted into them, and then took a big sniff.
When people treat their body odor as a good thing, you know the end is near.
When is the next awards show?
There’s a frequent attempt to press a glove (stink) smell upon one’s opponents in the the game of ice hockey, though I’ve no idea whether this was the source of the notion to Spinal Tap. Which, spinal tap in ice hockey is usually done with a swinging stick, and is called “slashing”, generally resulting in a two minute minor, when called, which, the calling, is approximately done in 5% of the instances of occurrence.
Darleen, you really need to find a new pastime.
Sdferr, I have no real experience with this sort of thing (no, really), but the general understanding, I think, is that when there is a sexualized master/slave relationship going on, the slave will generally be turned on by items that feature the master’s b.o., from one source or another.
If you were wondering if we as a nation had the gumption to survive another Great Depression.
I leave it to you to break the news to the hockey players, BurtTC, that what it is they’re up to when giving a face-wash is “sexual” in nature. Let me know if you escape with your life.
sdferr, I know you’re pulling for the Caps, amirite?
Dude, up here in Ranger country these New Yorkers are insane! Some of my family members are being surly with me about it; but that’s the way they are about sports…
I’m thinking the glove-stink-hockey-move is simply another avenue of getting in one’s opponent’s face. I mean, they barely let them fight anymore ;)
Oh, and as far as the “performance art” under discussion? My only question is whether or not it, “goes to eleven, man” :)
Pulling, Bob? Pulling? Since when is developing stomach ulcers a form of pulling? heh. Thanks be, it’s only six hours left to puck drop, not to say puke drip.
I’d just like to point out that Shakespeare and Michelangelo did not strive to express themselves.
Also, I got myself all prepped and ready to till my annuals bed this morning but have been stymied by the fact that I don’t have the stamina to pull the cord enough to cold-start my two-stroke Mantis tiller.
Go electric? That’s starting to sound AWFULLY good.
Example #5208 of why America deserves and needs a depression.
The whole country seems to need a fiscal high colonic.
sdferr says May 12, 2012 at 11:16 am
“I leave it to you to break the news to the hockey players, BurtTC, that what it is they’re up to when giving a face-wash is “sexual” in nature. Let me know if you escape with your life.’
Is that what I said? You were asking if hockey players were the origin of the “smell the glove” concept in the movie. The answer is, no, it has nothing to do with hockey players.
Sheesh…..
BurtTC, that comment — the break the news one — was not intended in the least in a serious fashion, but as a joke. Only take it as such, and I hope I’ll be forgiven the impertinence.
Only ulcers sdferr ;)
I can only imagine the strife, suffering, and rending of garments here
whenif the Rangers don’t win game 7 today.I’ll be watching too.
Spinal Tap did have it’s moments of serious social commentary, including one that’s appropriate here:
They are really missing the possibilities in this. They need to use elastic bands to divide up the body areas with multiple plastic tubes where sweat from each bodily area can be drained separately.
Not “The perfume is called ‘Peter’” but The perfume is called ‘Peter’s pits’, or The perfume is called ‘Peter’s crotch’. Then they can do blends too. The perfume is called “Peter’s ass and David’s face”. Endless opportunities, vintages even. The perfume is “David’s ass after a night of beer and pickled eggs, June 2013”.
I really, really hate modern art. In particular, I hate performance art.
Pittsburgh has a modern art museum in the building that shares a lobby and a giftshop with the natural history museum. Dinosuars! Egyptian mummies and sarcophoguses (i?). Beadwork and handcrafts. So, so cool. And then…there was the modern art museum. Lurking like a disease in it’s shiny new building and drawing no–zero–visitors expect me and my mother one afternoon. I asked the docent about visitors and got a heavy sigh.
The Andy Worhol museum is predictable and it’s 15 minutes of fame are so over.
These art people would love my piece “a whole lot of human shit on top of a grocery store pound cake sealed in a lucite globe”. I made over half of the work by myself. I was so inspired that it was like it just slid right out of me. I consider it a commentary on the imperial measures system and the so called naked post industrial pastries of the dwindling middle class.
I expect it to bring $40,000 at auction in addition to the $20,000 I got in EPA funding.
“the tubey elephant trunk thing doesn’t seem to have any real function”
It obviously makes it slightly easier to catch the “eat all you can catch” grilled fish thrown by a Japanese Steakhouse chef.
Duh.
I think if it is an olfactory sensation they want, perhaps someone who has a child that is on solid food, but not yet toilet-trained, has a million dollar grant project just waiting to be written. This could be done as an historical perspective, as well. “Toilet training Through the Ages” could feature the “works of art” from childhood to adult diapers (pala, your idea can be worked in here).
Go electric? That’s starting to sound AWFULLY good.
And so three hours later I finally brought one home.
I hate driving around shopping centers on Saturday afternoons. I nearly got homicidal a few times, and that’s just when the contretemps was my fault.
I think it would be art if they were to decide to spend one year working for a living just like the common shlub they’d like to think they’ve out evolved..
dicentra – please remind me often not to disagree with you. Thanks.
She has that new tiller, so digging your grave would be easy.