I think we need more foolishness.
Foolish Things
Author: philbrightonphil
Sue, Tessa, Eva, Kimi, Katie, Carey and Lucy – Burlesque Stars.
My Ages project is well populated by people who do burlesque. Why so many? Based on what they have all told me, it’s a form of performance that allows for a body positive, sexual confidence, that is on their own terms.
It’s not that the audience and putting on a show isn’t important, but they are the stars of their own show – it’s for them, and for them to share rather than for us to take.
I’m intrigued too by the generosity and giving nature of the groups. It’s clearly a really supportive process for the learners and as they develop the shows.
I’ve heard a few times how great it is that burlesque includes a really wide range of ages and body types. All are stunning, beautiful people – not judged for their appearance. And, as part of that, it helps to show to others that their body types are wonderful too.
Going to a burlesque show, well I guess I don’t need to go often myself – I love the energy and the beaming self confidence and joy of the performers. But it can be a bit lacking in queer for me – which is odd given my personal tastes defo being for female body types rather than male. But somehow, it could do with a bit of a Queering.
The best part has been observing my participants performing for themselves, with me/us as welcome witnesses. I often feel that’s my role as the photographer, to create a situation in which the subject feels able to reveal something of themselves, something perhaps not previously revealed.
Queering
I’ve been queering. I’ve been queering about the town and in my head. I’ve been queering for a long time.
Am I queer?
Do I want to fuck it up? And does that depend on what it is?
Am I a fuckerupper?
Is it doomed?
What is it?
I can smash the bottle for the moments of chaotic, crashing, sparkling, bliss and yet not actually want the bottle to be broken – the action of destruction but not to create the destroyed.
Can the destroyed only be the product of creation.
The urge to queer whatever notions and expectations of normal is strong but do I mean to chuck all of the babies out with their bathwater? And do I want to banish all comforts and lay naked on the cold, hard ground? I definitely want to know how it feels to lay naked on the cold, hard ground. But I do enjoy soft, freshly washed, cotton sheets. And what would we eat without all of that plump, squishy baby meat?
Nice shorts
Last week a rare thing happened, possibly a unique thing.
Wearing ordinary, typical man type shorts, and walking to my GP in a hurry, I overtook a woman who slightly moved out of the way for me and I said ‘ta’. And a moment later she called to me, ‘nice shorts’.
I turned around and thanked her and, noticing that she was also wearing shorts, I said ‘yours are nice too’ – and they were. And, as I carried on walking I realised that we were wearing the same colour shorts and, presumably, hers was a bit of a jokey comment.
I noted that I’d never usually say something to a stranger about their appearance, and that, in male clothing (I look like a man whether or not I am genderqueer), it’s unheard-of to be complimented by a stranger, and rare even from friends. Most men’s clothing is, of course, by design and by decree, boring at best, and mostly ill-fitting.
However, as a male looking person in clothes like skirts, leggings or even with just coloured nails, the complete disinterest in what I wear ceases immediately. It becomes open season for women to comment, complement and to compare legs – apparently mine are devine…
Most men, of course, say nothing – well, other than the occasional van-headed louts who shout their murderous lusts while, I imagine, wanking themselves into a foam from their manly oeuvre.
Most men say nothing to women, they say even less to other men, unless they are wearing something unmanly in which case, just a few men are aggressive. Women say pretty much nothing to men wearing men’s clothes, but they’ll say lots to manly looking humans in fem clothes. I wonder why.
And – it’s an interesting state of affairs for men or those of us that look like them. We only have to add they tiniest affectation of fem, and we may as well have a big, flashing, dong on the ends of our noses. . .
To step out is to be brave – to be seen – to be noticed – all I need do is have coloured nails and to cross the road without clenching my fists to hide them and – ‘Nice nails! Ready for Pride?’ – calls a woman walking by.
Being 50 something
This week I photographed Caroline in the garden of a house in which she has lived for many years. She won’t mind me saying that the house is in a poor state of repair. It’s a great looking building though and a beautiful garden.
Like many people in my Ages project, she spoke about gaining body confidence later in life and about how she’d felt shamed for her looks while younger. I guess the remaining sense of body shame may be a limit on the numbers of younger people who will get involved – not yet having shaken that off.
I really enjoy working with all of the participants, there is though something I enjoy more photographing people of a similar age to me. There’s an affinity, our skins have been exposed to life for a similar length of time.
Naked in the breeze and thin sun at the beach – again. Expected difficult futures call to us from the now.
I stared at the sea for ages, watching to see if it’d be in a mood to let me in safely… It seemed to suggest it might be, but as is often the case, I misread its beaconing waves. It near spat me out, but I have learned enough by now that I can get out fairly unscathed.
And now, the clouds have parted and the sun is warming my naked body as much as the keen breeze is chilling me. As is so often the case, it’s a day for being alive – naked by the sea, in the sun, in the wind. And no one else seems to have agreed with that idea – I have this late June day on Brighton beach pretty much to myself.
I have just written a brief note, a health warning, to a friend who would like to take part in my Ages project. I don’t know how old she is, 50s I guess.
My warnings now are still a reminder that it’s recognisable, naked images on the internet. But more than that, they are that the project may make you think, and perhaps more than expected.
One of the participants recently said “I thought I could just write some stuff and be ok ….but …damn it….. you made me think lots…(which is a good thing) a muscle i haven’t flexed in a while…so i want to contribute in an honest and truthful way x”
Being involved will draw out feelings, memories and expectations and fears for our futures and our nows. Generally, that is a good thing and especially longer term. Shorter term though, and especially for people who are already dealing with lots of unresolved issues, it can be a tougher ride.
There’s a bit of conflict for me with the project now. Ideally, I want people to write about their now, pretty much at the same time the images are taken. But in a couple of cases, the process of taking the photos and reflecting on that and about their lives, some the participants have needed more time.
And, of course, that’s the most important thing and something for me to note – the participants are the project as much as my ideas about it and the images. If I painted I’d need to work with paint as the material as working against it makes a mess. With images and creations drawn from people, the artful part for me is to work with their needs, worries, ideas, inspirations, laughter and so on.
My values include avoiding doing harm, and trying to be caring, to always try to draw the breeze towards creativity. Ages started with me, with talking with Titch, and perhaps it’ll keep growing – in what ever way it grows.
Fox the System…Fix the System Not the Women – by Laura Bates
I’ve been reading Fix the System by Laura Bates – it’s compelling, hard reading and as she notes, much of what it contains will be no surprise to women but will be alien to most men.
I’m not that far into the book and I deeply get her rationale that the vast ocean of very different ways that women are subject to sexism, must stop being seen as a series of incidents (not ignoring their individual impact) and instead be recognised as aspects of the patriarchy and set in a colonial, abelist, economic and social structure. It’s a structure that endlessly recreates itself, making slots for women to fall into and for men to stand over whether or not they like it.
Those words, fix the system not to women seem really apt to me. I’ve been using them a good deal recently in terms of my views of neurodiversity and the NPNPD (normal persons narrow perspective disorder) based society that dominates. It says it values diversity but tbh, I don’t think it actually understands that any other ways of mind can be anything but pathological.
It, the NPNPD is not just a stasis, it’s nothing like so passive. It must fix us or sideline us as our very existence is a significant challenge to it’s own definition of reality. Like the TERF who pleaded with me that the very existence of people who ‘claim to be women but who are always really men’ threatened her whole notion of self as a woman – we were making a mockery of her existence. . which I said was crap.
She couldn’t see beyond the binary of men and women and in that binary, all men are a threat, always. Her whole social construction pivoted on a clear line between one and the other – to move between the two destroyed her model and it was everything to her. In that context, I understood her horror – if we kicked the turtles out from beneath her she will fall forever.
Usually in life we don’t fall forever. And a jump from a belief to questioning that belief doesn’t lead to much more than standing there wondering why you had not stepped down before – the ground is solid and there is more space than there is upon a high horse.
I don’t think men will wake up just like that and just ‘get it’ that the patriarchy is wrong and dismantle it – it’s not an isolated structure, it sits among and intertwined with others and all farm us and shit their food into the hulk of capitalism.
Us neurodiverse lot are going to have to shout though and demand to be heard – we need to put the disorder into our disorders. I am ceasing to be ok with being fixed or ‘failing’ – it’s failing in a society that does little but harm.
One thing leads to another
My Ages project is getting going, 4 pages ready now and one not far off. As always, working with new people and ones I don’t know well, is brilliant. Its a great joy to me to be so trusted with people’s thoughts, their desires, fears and anxieties and their bodies. It’s interesting to me that even in the short time that I have been doing them, there has been significant change in the life of one of the participants.
Its also been good that being involved has enthused some people with all sorts of thoughts and ideas for future projects.
Censorship on Instagram continues to wind me up, but at least with one of the images from Ages of Eva as a mermaid, the censoring was just to cover her nipples with some fairly apt clam shells.
A few minutes to go
I’ve got 4 Facebook accounts and 3 Instagram accounts – it helps to ensure I’ve got backups for when they block an account.
It’s quite a chore to Deactivate all 7 of them – but also very satisfying.
So far this website has had visitors from 45 countries – which is impressive as it’s all in English and none has been properly translated… Which is quite shameful.
Lots of great images to add to the collection soon.
Thanks to everyone for their support – especially Titch, Dolly, Myra and Verity.
We’ll add updates here
There won’t need to be lots – its essentially deactivate your accounts for 24 hours on 20 August and please pass it on. Oh and follow us so that you can see updates and so we can get an idea of how many people are interested.
Phil Pool - Art and Protest 