Category Archives: Musings

Is a Painted Body Naked? — #3: Ask the Zebras

My friend Kate sent me this image she saw in Communication Arts Magazine and I think it speaks directly to the question I addressed in an earlier post regarding bodypainting and nakedness. In this foto I’d say that the woman is pretty thoroughly painted and very definitely naked. Reading perhaps too much into it, I think that dual impression is part of the intention of the artist here, for they have deliberately left the model’s pubic hair visible when it could have been hidden via the bodypainting, and that seems to me to be intended to make the viewer recognize the nakedness of the model. I can see this image as making a statement that a painted body is naked, just as a zebra is naked, no matter how thoroughly decorated it is. Even if the artist’s intentions were not that specific in regard to this question, I see this image as equating the painted model with the striped zebras, placing them both in the same state of nature/nakedness.

I also think it’s a cool photograph — how cool to have had the chance to do a photo shoot with live zebras — and I think that anyone would see this as a work of art. Although some people have trouble with nakedness in any form, having a naked human appear in a work of art is an established and accepted tradition, from the ancient Greeks and on. So much depends on context.

Check out the previous posts for more on this question:

is a painted body naked?  https://thestorybehindthefaces.com/2011/04/15/is-a-painted-body-naked/

is a painted body naked ? – Pt.2: Painting Clothing On vs. Painting on Clothing  https://thestorybehindthefaces.com/2011/04/18/is-a-painted-body-naked-pt-2-painting-clothing-on-vs-painting-on-clothing/

Unfortunately I don’t have a copy of the Communication Arts Magazine July/August edition that this image was in, and couldn’t find out who was the bodypainter or photographer from their web site http://www.commarts.com/  , so I can’t include proper credits here. If you know who generated this image, please add that information as a comment.

http://www.agostinoarts.com

“Facepainting” or “Face Painting”? The Medium is the Message

by Christopher Agostino

“Facepainting” or “face painting”?  “Bodypainting” or “body painting”? I tend towards the former term in both cases, making it one word rather than two — to the consistent consternation of spell check and search engines — because I believe that within this field what we paint on is as intrinsically important as the act of painting. Without the body there is no bodypainting, so, truly, the medium is the message. It is the face, the body, that gives the painting its value, its reason for being.

If the face is removed from the facepainting the result changes. I got to thinking about this as we began to use a new Dega-inspired promotional postcard design in which the art is more apparent than the face, so at first glance most people see it as just a painting, rather than as a facepainting (despite the text indicating otherwise).

Each year or so I select a new photo for our postcards, emblematic of our current creative explorations. We’ve been focusing on taking inspiration from Modern Art recently, so I looked for one of those images for the postcard. I painted this face at the Hudson River Museum in Yonkers, NY   http://www.hrm.org/  , where we appear regularly. To suit the venue I was spending the day re-creating famous paintings on museum visitors, surprising each with my choices. The Degas image was painted on one of the museum’s volunteers. Two of their volunteers came to get painted when there was a lull in the line, and I took my time to work more subtly towards the painterly quality of the originals, and not just a copy of the image, as I made one into a Monet waterlily painting and the other into these ballerinas. In working with real paintings as inspiration for face and bodypaintings, my artists and I have all noticed that trying to capture the way a true master works the surface of the canvas is the real challenge (building up layers of color, working with the texture of the paint, etc.), and it’s something I may try to do when taking hours to paint a model in a studio, but not usually while facepainting with a line at a gig.

At the event, on their faces, the finished waterlilies face looked better than the ballerinas, and when I decided I wanted a modern art face image for the newest postcard I remembered that facepainting and thought I’d use the photo I took that day. But, cropped to postcard size, with the face less apparent, it didn’t work as well. It lost its identity as a copy of a recognizable painting, and looked more decorative, less transformational. It is something we have noticed when painting these modern art faces at events: they don’t always look like facepaintings in the same way that turning someone into a tiger will, they don’t always look like a face transformed. And they don’t always photograph as well as they look live, for I had a number of faces I had remembered painting that I thought might work for the postcard but didn’t, when cropped, because they lost their identity as a face.

Conversely, this Degas image worked for me as a postcard, I think, because it does function more as a painting than as a painted face, especially in a close crop like this. Looking at the finished face when I painted it, I felt the Degas painting job was ok enough, but that the image as I placed it didn’t take the best advantage of the curves of her face so it only looked good straight on, which limits the attractiveness of a face design — so the same quality that made me disappointed in this face seen live at the event makes me like it seen flat on 5,000 postcards.

A painted body, a painted face, viewed live is a very different art form than that same painted body in a photograph. They are two distinct works of art, and they carry very different intrinsic values, they function by very different aesthetic rules. In viewing them, the observer brings a very different context to what they are seeing, and so much of the value we accrue to an object depends on context, especially perhaps to objects of art. My understanding of this was enhanced by a recent Ted Talk by psychologist Paul Bloom about how our beliefs about the history of an object change how we experience it, as in why a watch owned by our deceased grandparent is irreplaceable in our mind even though there might be many other watches available of the very same type. Part of his illustration of this was the story of a Vermeer painting, “The Supper at Emmaus”, which, based on its aesthetic quality, was revered as one of his greatest accomplishments and worth millions, until it was revealed to have been painted in 1936 by the master forger Han van Meegeren and not even the copy of a real Vermeer, at which point it lost all of its value. Very much the case of “the story behind the painting”.     http://www.ted.com/talks/paul_bloom_the_origins_of_pleasure.html

So for me it is “facepainting” and “bodypainting”, especially when viewed live on the person that is painted, for the living person carries that intrinsic value that gives the painting meaning. They are the story behind the face. Seeing the painted face looking back at you, talking to you — seeing the painted body move, change. On a postcard, in a photograph, maybe then it is a “face painting” or a “body painting”, but viewed alive the person can not be separated from the art.

The Monet waterlilies face, which looked very nice on this young lady as she walked around the museum, but didn’t work as well as a foto cropped for the postcard.
Usually I prefer photos with the subject’s eyes open — I refer to them as canvases with eyes — but in this case it worked better for me when it was more like a painting, with the eyes closed, and less like a face.
Another Monet inspired face from the same day, and probably my favorite face of the that day’s painting, because I painted it very quickly but still managed to get the Monet-esque colors right, but cropped tight the image was not something that most people would recognize.
This was another favorite from that day’s painting. An image inspired by a Paul Klee painting. He’s an artist whose work relates very directly to face and body art — but, again, no one would recognize this as inspired by a famous artist, in the way people might recognize Degas’ ballerinas or Monet’s waterlilies.
This postcard from a couple of years ago was the first one in which I chose an image that specifically said “art on faces”, with a painting inspired by a Picasso cubist portrait in combination with a Nuba inspired tribal image. I don’t think I have ever painted a better face design than this one.

http://www.agostinoarts.com

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Is Life Fair? – a traditional tale re-told

by Christopher Agostino

 

Once upon a time there was a man who was a farmer. He had worked a long, hard day in the fields and he was walking home when he heard a voice: “Ssssaaaave meeee.”

He looked around and didn’t see anyone, so he started walking when he heard the voice again: “Ssssssaaaaave meee, pleeeaaaassse!” He realized the sound was coming from the ground, so he looked down, and there, trapped under a large rock, was a long, dangerous looking snake.  The snake had been trapped for so long that it looked weak from hunger, ready to die.

The farmer did not like snakes, most farmers don’t, but he hated to see an animal suffering like that, so he moved the rock and saved the snake’s life. Right away the snake jumped up and said, “Thank you for ssssaving my life.”

“You’re welcome,” said the man.

“Now I’m going to eat you,” said the snake, and he grabbed the farmer by the neck.

“Wait a minute,” said the farmer, “I just saved your life. Is it fair that you should eat me?”

“Life is not fair,” said the snake, “and I’m hungry.”

So they ended up with the snake still wrapped around the farmer’s neck. This led to a discussion, the farmer asking, “if life is not fair then what is the point of living?” to which the snake replied, “if you’ve lived long enough you’d know, life is not fair.” But the snake said he would give the farmer a chance, since the farmer had saved his life. They would ask three animals that question, “Is life fair?”, and if any of them said it was, the snake would let the farmer go.

So the farmer, with the snake wrapped around his neck, set off across the fields to find three animals. And the first animal they came to was a cow. The farmer looked at the cow and asked, “Is life fair?”

“Wwwwwwell,” said the cow, “ you always let me eat your grass, and it’s very goooood. But don’t I have to give you mmmmmilk every day? And when I’m old and tired and can’t give mmmmmilk every day, will you still feed me? Noooooo, it’s off to the hamburger factory with me. Life is not fair,” said the cow.

“Oh no,” said the farmer.

“Heh, heh, heh,” said the snake.

So the farmer with the snake wrapped around his neck, and with the cow following along behind, set off to find the second animal. And they walked across the fields until they came to a horse. The farmer looked at the horse and asked, “Is life fair?”

“Weeeeeell,” said the horse, “you always let me eat your oats and sleep in your barn, and that’s very goooooood. But don’t I have to pull your plow? Don’t I have to carry you on my back? Hhrruuummmphh. And when I’m old and tired and can’t carry you anymore, will you still feed me? Nnnnnnnnooo, it’s off to the glue factory with me. Life is not faaaaair,” said the horse.

“Oh no,” said the farmer.

“Heh, heh, heh,” said the snake, “one more to go.”

So the farmer with the snake wrapped around his neck, with the cow and the horse following along behind, set off to find the third animal, the final animal. And they walked across the field until they came to a bunny rabbit. The farmer bent down and looked at the bunny rabbit. He put his hands together and cleared his throat. Then he asked, “Is life fair?”

“Hmmm,” said the rabbit, “what an interesting question. Why do you ask?”

The farmer explained that he had saved the snake’s life, and the snake explained that he was going to eat the farmer.

“Oooh,” said the rabbit to the man, “you saved his life? That’s very nice of you,” and the rabbit said to the snake, “And you’re going to eat him? I don’t know about that. Now as to your question: ‘Is life fair?’ Well, I’m just a bunny, I don’t know why you’d ask me. But I did ask my mother this same question once when I was little, and you know what she said? You know what she said? She said, ‘Whether life’s fair, or whether it’s not, the least we can do is dance!’”

“Dance?” asked the farmer.

“Dansssssse?” asked the snake.

“Dance!” said the rabbit. And the rabbit began to dance:  Hip hip hip, hop hop hop, hip hip hip hip hip, hop hop hop!

This was such a silly sight that it got the horse dancing: Hruum hruum hruum; hruum hruum hruum; raaaaahhhuuum raaaaahhhuuum, hruum hruum hruum!

Which  got the cow dancing: Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum; ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum; ba-da-da-dum, ba-da-da-dum; ba-dum, ba-dum ba-dum!

Which got the farmer dancing: boop-be-doop-be; boop-be-doop-ba; boop-be-doop-be; boop-be-doop-ba!

Which got the snake dancing: Cha cha cha, ssssssssss! Cha cha cha, sssssssssss! Cha, cha, cha,sssssssssssss!

And while the snake was dancing, the rabbit took the farmer by the hand and they snuck off, back to the safety of the farm house.

Now I don’t know about you, but I agree with that rabbit: Whether life’s fair, or whether it’s not, the least we can do is dance!

Is Life Fair?  – a traditional folktale re-told

©2004 Christopher Agostino

This has been a favorite tale of mine to perform over the years, and I do it the “old-fashioned way” without any facepainting. For a number of years it was the story I’d end my shows with, and I’ve just started telling this tale again as part of a special thematic version of my Transformations — Storytelling show for libraries this summer. The library Summer Reading Club theme is “One World — Many Stories”, so I’ve put together a collection of tales that allow me to talk to these family audiences about the reason why we tell stories. 

When I first found it, I wasn’t looking for it. I was sitting in the reference section of  my local library looking through regional folktale collections to find a story about animals for a show I was writing. In every book I looked through there seemed to be a tale of a farmer who saves a snake that then wants to eat him. Often the farmer said that it wasn’t fair to be eaten by someone he had saved, to which the snake replied that life isn’t fair. In all the stories except one, the farmer turned the tables on the snake by tricking him back under the rock (or into a hat or a sack) and then justified his trickery by agreeing  that life isn’t fair and it’s every man for himself. A happy ending for the farmer perhaps, but not for the snake.

Only one version I found left everybody dancing. As best as I can recall, this version came from a collection of tales from Mexico, which has a tradition of tricky rabbits, but I am not sure. It wasn’t a tale I wanted to use for the show I was then writing, so I took no notes and have been unable to find it again. I began telling it a few years later just from what I remembered, which is my favorite way to begin to tell a tale. For then the story grows by itself, with the help of each audience that hears it.

I open the story by asking the audience that question, “Is life fair?”, and most often get a chorus of young voices answering, ”No!” That may be why I love to tell this tale to audiences today. That may be why stories like this survive for so long. We need our stories to help us understand the world in more ways than the obvious ones, because we know there will be days when the world doesn’t seem fair and the only thing we can do is keep dancing. 

This story is yours now. Tell it to someone else.

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