I signed up to the naked art installation – a seminal event at the Baltic Gallery by Spencer Tunick.
The first attempt failed – no reply from the web site and telephone answering machines – eventually I got a human on Sunday morning at 7:30am – the installation had already taken place at 3am. Groan. I thought that I was to remain fully clothed all day.
However, I received an email when I returned from swimming – there was going to be a special 2nd installation recorded live on BBC3 – that evening. We raced up to Edinburgh, yes in the opposite direction – to see a souterrain and then rattled down the A1 to Newcastle with Stuart at the wheel and his L-plates leaving us loads of room as cars avoided us.
Everyone met in the glass walled ‘Pitcher and Piano’ bar opposite the Millenium bridge. I met Adrian, an architect, who had been at the 3am installaiton which lasted about 4 hours longer than they were told and included stepping into vomit and chips after a Saturday night in Newcastle, and then rained on for good measure. A couple of girls in the bar showed me their bruises from earlier this morning – what had I signed up to?
It was a sociable evening in the bar and I met the lovely Tilly who knew one of our vacation students, Ross Horne, at Oxford Uni. Spencer kept giving briefings in the bar and then as the sunset went, it was time to get outside and get naked. There was around 250 people.
We had a clothed rehearsal and met the people sharing our bridge space. With a burst of applause as we all dropped our trousers at the side of the river and packed our clothes into our red carrier bags then we moved swiftly onto the Milennium bridge past the groin height BBC3 cameras. I ended up in the centre of the bridge jammed between a blue haired busty beauty and a gal with a star tattoo at the base of her spine.
We had to stand arms length from each other, we had to close our eyes as Spencer screamed at us on his megaphone – we then had to lie down on the gravel path which was sore and then stand up and wave like some demented Jane Fonda workout. At one point we all slapped our own buttocks to release the gravel from our backsides.
And it was over – time to get dressed, say farewell to naked companions and head to the bar to celebrate. There was a naked busker on the Quayside “I’m busking in the nude, busking in the nude” who got quickly moved on by the constabulary.
Stuart got a friend to tape the BBC3 programme and received the text message back – I can’t believe what I am taping – are you in Newcastle? We borrowed the tape (which she didn’t want back…) and it was an interesting programme with one naked shot of me but dangly bits hidden by the blue haired gal in front.
All in all a fantastic experience and a jolly nice set of people to spend an evening with. And we get a signed print and get to see the exhibition at the Baltic in January…
