A lady named Crystal just sent this delightful description of Spencer Tunick's monster nude photo shoot:
Spencer Tunick made a visit to this not so fair city on Columbus Day. That’s right, the Spencer Tunick who has seen more nipples than Jenna Jameson and Ron Jeremy put together. The Spencer Tunick who won a Supreme Court case against Giuliani to photograph thousands of naked models at Grand Central Station. The Spencer Tunick who understands the difference between art and pornography.
I made my decision early on that I wanted to be involved in this epic event, but when the time came, I was too weirded out to even eat my breakfast. I kept thinking about the fact that I had some serious grooming to take care of with a shiny new razor. My husband was supposed to accompany me to this grand afternoon of whimsy and wang but, given the “holiday” (can you believe Columbus is still celebrated?), our three-year-old daughter’s school was closed, and since we only moved to Miami three months ago, we don’t yet have a sitter.
I went alone, concerned for the weirdo to normal person ratio and convinced I would feel like I was on some deviate edition of HBO’s “Real Sex”. I was surprised to find myself surrounded by attorneys, teachers, retirees, and other varying degrees of normalcy. I met some fascinating characters and took part in an amazing helping of voyeurism.
What did I learn? Well, modeling is hard, other people’s nipples are crazy, and that there is a direct correlation between age and ball drag. I also realized that this forum for nudity didn’t make me feel sexy at all- not that I expected it to, but so often the two are supposed to go hand in hand. I felt sweaty and empowered, but not sexy.
There are about 4 different settings in which he shot us 600-ish people and one involved everyone being covered in champagne (not so good with razor burn). I was lucky to be in all four settings. The installation of works will be presented at the Sagamore Hotel in South Beach for Art Basel. I can’t wait to get my limited edition print to make into a sort of variation on “where’s waldo” for greeting cards or something.
Until next time… Viva Miami!
