The alarm went off at 3am this morning. I quickly jumped in the shower to wake myself up, while Teresa slowly roused herself and complained of not sleeping well in anticipation of the alarm. We threw on some simple clothes, grabbed our paperwork, and drove downtown.
We parked the CR-V in a good spot at 12th and Lakeside, then quickly walked to the East 9th Street Pier, where a crowd was beginning to form. A woman with dyed red hair joined us in our walk, and we all commented on how cool it was to see the city busy at 4 in the morning.
Since last fall, when T and I had first read that Spencer Tunick was going to do an installation in Cleveland, we’ve been eagerly waiting to be a part of it. We immediately signed up for what was originally to be an indoor, January event. So many people signed up, and none of the property owners would let it happen, so the installation was delayed until today, Saturday, June 26, 2004. We found out Monday that it would be at the Pier near the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and we pre-paid for our t-shirts (which are a really cool design).
As Spring evolved, we weren’t sure we would even be living here anymore since I’ve been interviewing in the South. And, of course, we were also having a party on that day, and we found out we would have to be at the site at 4:20am, so we weren’t sure it was going to work logistically anyway.
But we couldn’t pass up this chance.
So, this morning we found ourselves with 2,800 of our closest friends, getting naked for photographs in front of the city skyline with a (rare) gorgeous sunrise. Sure, it was only 57 degrees; Channel 19 had its news helicopter sweeping overhead; and it was about two hours before the action really started as we got instructions and Spencer waited for the light to be right. But we were there.
There was lots of nervous energy. People seemed to react differently. Some young guys shouting and swearing with false bravado. The redhead with us seemed to talk a lot when nervous. Me, I had decided to do this a while ago, and I was more than ready (if cold). Teresa was calm too, but cold. I think we would have talked and gawked a lot more had this woman not been so insistent on trying to be our friend.
We finally got instructions on the first setup, and where to leave our clothes. Spencer thanked us all and spoke briefly about the setup and reemphasized the instructions. Twenty minutes later, his producer gave the signal, and we all stripped and headed for our spots.
What an amazing first few minutes. Lots of laughter, lots of unashamed glances – up and down and all around. What a huge mass of pink, brown, and pale skin, various amounts of body hair in various places, and bright eyes and smiles. Almost three thousand people, suddenly buck-naked and walking in the cold wind toward setup. Personally, I felt no self-consciousness at all. I wasn’t looking at myself! And we were all nude – not even jewelry. And it was just groovy.
For the first setup, everyone (about twice as many as expected; over 4,000 signed up but turnout is usually a much lower percentage) formed a huge line from the end of the pier (where Tunick perched on a ladder with his camera) all the way up to the first traffic lights on East 9th. We all spaced ourselves out between the street lights and faced away from Spencer and toward the city. We were in the shadow of the William Mather Steamship museum, next to the Goodtime III. He took the first photos. Next, he had us lie down on our sides, with our heads toward the Mather, still facing the city, for the next couple of shots. Since it was cold, we returned to put our clothes back on while he prepared for the next setup.
The light at the pier was casting problematic shadows as the sun came up, so Tunick couldn’t fit all of us in a well-lit or well-shadowed area. So for the other setups, he split us into men and women. First, the women disrobed. Spencer had all the men sit down during the process to make getting around easier. It was quite a spectacle, I must say. Eyes at butt-level with more than a thousand nude women of all ages, shapes, and sizes as they walked past. Of course, with also more than a thousand guys sitting around, there were a few macho remarks to be heard. I just sat and took it all in. Quite amazing and amusing. And brilliant.
Teresa said it was really cold near the lake where the shots were taken. They lay down on their sides, once with their heads propped up and once with them down. Spencer’s wife was documenting the entire event for a film about it, so it took quite a while to both get the shots and the filming done. Teresa raced back and quickly put on her clothes. She said that clothes had never felt better in her life – not out of modesty, but out of pure warmth.
Next, it was the guys’ turn. A couple of “macho” guys called it a day, not wanting to participate in what one of them called a “sausage fest.” Good; we didn’t need them around anyway. And what did they think this was? T and I were standing near a little posse of older gay men; their conversation was much more intelligent and interesting than most of the guys. Ultimately, though, we got down to business and stripped of our clothes and headed to the grass.
When it was just all the guys together, naked and exposed to the wind and sun, there was a lot more nervous laughter and bravado talk. Waves of laughter would burst out in part of the crowd when someone would make a crude joke. Tunick kept us out there a good while, tweaking the setup, and many of the men seemed quite uncomfortable – particularly when he asked us to lay our heads on a shoulder or leg of the man next to us. What’s the big deal? We all have the same parts, and we are all human. That’s one of the points of Spencer’s work. I wouldn’t go so far – as he does – and say we’re all beautiful, but we aren’t all that different.
He took pictures of us facing Brown’s stadium, with him shooting from behind us, as we knelt and curled up in little balls. The women cheered. Teresa said we looked like a bunch of coffee beans. For the final shot, he had us all stretch out on our backs, facing the sky, cross-wise from the camera with Browns stadium in the background. More cheering from the women.
Finally, he thanked us all, said the shots were fabulous, and let us go. He stuck around to talk to anyone who wanted to. Teresa and I went and grabbed our shirts and headed to breakfast at Vicki’s diner. We were glad it was over, but thrilled to have done it. We can’t wait for the free 8×10 print we each get, as well as the opening of the exhibit on Friday, August 6, at MOCA Cleveland.
