Javier Peres and Terence Koh are pleased to present SACK OF BONES, a group exhibition curated by Ellen Langan and Blair Taylor. Please join us for the opening on Monday, March 24th from 6 - 9pm at ASS (Asia Song Society): 45 Canal Street between Orchard and Ludlow.

SACK OF BONES
March 24th - May 2nd, 2008
Please email victoria@peresprojects.com or call 212 962 6717 for viewing appointments

Featuring work by:

Anthony Burdin
Dan Colen
Tara Delong
Mark Flood
Bill Hayden
Neil Jenney
Bruce LaBruce
Daniel McDonald
Andrew Rogers
Arsen Roje
Agathe Snow
William C. Taylor
Donald Urquhart
Banks Violette

Toted around, thrown in the corner, recovered as relic or disposed of
as useless, a sack of bones is unavoidably deformed. It is an
apparently dead object subject to the intentions of its creator, or
its purveyor, or its consumer, or maybe just its times.

The group exhibition "Sack of Bones" comes from a viewing of Paul
Rachman's 2006 film, American Hardcore, in which Mark Flood appears as
an interviewee on the topic of 1980's punk rock. The tone of the film
is reverent, to be sure, but more than an ode, the voices in the film
present conflicting parts pride, humor, fraternity, anger, bitterness,
nostalgia, and what are often doleful mechanisms for dealing with the
here-and-now. That Flood was both part of Hardcore as it existed
musically (in 1980 his band, Culturcide, put out their first 7-inch:
"Another Miracle/Consider Museums as Concentration Camps") and has
been practicing visual art for over 30 years poses an interesting
question: how, if at all, can art be hardcore? By embodying
adolescent punk obsession? By miraculous use of irony? By a simple
withdrawal from popular territory?

Consider, for example, the tangled 'attitude problem' precipitated by Reagan-era
punk; there is the myth of a pure strain of FUCK YOU, there is the
myth of the majority's snide perception of its counter-movements, and
then, somewhere in the overlap, there is the problematic dilution of
any rebellion's once-potent beginnings (causing cycles of backlash and
resurgence pretty much ever after). In the art world this tangle is
further convoluted by the relishing of trade and an inherent
affluence, elitism and circuitous pandering that can compromise
anyone's well-intentioned we/they stirrings.

The exhibition as a whole may appear deadpan, satirical or pathetic –
in any case each of the constituent works turns its back on
complacency, and, in doing so, becomes material evidence of resistance
(kicking from within the sack). In other words, with all that is
stacked against the mutinous artist and the mutinous viewer, hope
could lie in objecthood itself.

Erica Von Stroheim

Here are some shots that Christophe Chemin took of me directing on the set of Otto.

Gay Paree

This is about all I can remember about Paris. The screening of Otto at the Palais de Tokyo was a big success, even though they could only show it on DVD. Several private dinner parties followed over the next few days, including one in which this creepy statue of an angel with human eyes lurked over my shoulder. Otherwise, I can only remember my dear friend Christophe Chemin falling, falling, falling. Under the table in his No Bra shirt (she has a song on the Otto soundtrack), tumbling, tumbling to a party at the apartment of Tomas of Tetu. Christophe told me he left Paris because it made him feel like jumping out of a window. After only three days there, I know what he means. It's true, Paris is a city for lovers - if those lovers are Karl Lagerfield and Satan. x Blab p.s. Note to the clubs of Paris: bad eighties music is over, and it's not funny anymore.

Istanbul

I recently attended the Istanbul Independent Film Festival. This is my MySpace friend Efekan whom I looked up when I was there. He is an art student who works in ceramics. I bought him the hat.

Efekan accompanied me to the classic Turkish Baths, or Hammam, in the Old City, where we were thumped, bumped, twisted like pretzels and fricaseed by big fat Turkish men. Then they wrapped us up and hung us out to dry.

Me doing my Mother Theresa imitation.

These are some cute Turkish boys I met and partied with. The one in the middle is Aykan. He's a hot queer activist.
John Cameron Mitchell was on the jury of the film festival, and he and I dj'd one night at a festival party. It was fun. JCM was travelling with legendary cinematographer Bobby Bukowski, whom I hadn't seen since a party in Gus Van Sant's trailer on the set of Psycho on the Universal Lot.

This is a big scary upside down statue of Medusa sitting in water in an underground cistern. Don't look at it or you will turn into Sharon Stone.
Istanbul is full of grand mosques.

First Full Otto Trailer

Oh I almost forgot. Here is the first full internet trailer for Otto; or, Up with Dead People.

Otto Party

Boy in Otto shirt at Otto Party, Berlin.

She's Lost Control Again

Okay here's where things got a little out of control. I think it was the night of the Teddy Awards. I had inside info that we'd been robbed, so we blew off the awards and went to the Zoo Magazine Party, and then we ended up at a gallery where Black Peter was performing. Much drunkenness ensues. Here is Gio sharing a pint with Travis Jeppesen's Croatian Boyfriend or something. Don't you adore his scar that he probably got in some Yugoslavian war? I do.

Travis and Gio sharing a pint the friendly way.

Gio and his penis pov.

I think this was the first time Travis ever licked pussy. Remember, there is always a first time for everything.
Travis licking Gio's armpit. It's almost like a pussy.
Travis' Serbian boyfriend biting somebody. He probably learned it in the war with the Croats or the Albanians.
Gio's glam partner in Gio Black Peter, in fox.

Medea and Maximilian

Christophe Chemin (Maximilian) in his cute Bernhard Wilhelm dress helping the lovely Katharina Klewinghaus (Medea) with her lipstick before the Otto premiere at the Berlinale. That's Joel Gibb of the Hidden Cameras in the bg.

Gio Black Peter

A couple of candids of Gio Black Peter, who plays Rudolf in Otto, and his sexy Scottish boyfriend, Neil.

Berlin Film Festival Premiere

Some of my degorgeous cast at the Berlinale: Jey Crisfar, Susanne Sachsse, Christophe Chemin, Gio Black Peter.

This is one of my co-producers, Bruce Bailey, on the night of our Berlin premiere, wearing his cape. The back end of the act is his husband and another one of my co-producers, Alfredo Ferran Calle.

Back in Black

Ok let's start with Peaches' shoes. I snapped this photo in the huge walk-in closet in Peaches' apartment in Berlin. Peaches dj'd at our Otto; or, Up with Dead People party. Now I'm not saying these are all of Peaches' shoes, nor am I saying that she is the punk rock Imelda Marcos. I'm just showing you some of her shoes. I hope she doesn't mind.



Hey Public: So sorry I haven't posted in a while. I just got back from a month long tour with my new movie, including screenings at the Berlin International Film Festival, the Istanbul Independent Film Festival, and at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris. I should have kept a diary, but I didn't. I used to "blog" all the time when I wrote my columns for Eye and Exclaim magazines, before it was fashionable, but now that everyone does it, it doesn't appeal to me so much anymore. Anonymity is so much more glamorous. Celebrity is boring! But just to be a good sport I will post some photos from my trip and comment on them. Don't get me wrong: I think it's good to have an opinion on everything. I just think that a lot of people haven't thoroughly thought through their opinions, and there are far too many haters. As Burt Bacharach once reminded us, what the world needs now is love sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little of. That and food and clean drinking water.