Spencer Tunick Experience

Since Spencer Tunick is willing to have his performance done and photo shot taken in Dublin and I appreciate his work I could not avoid join him. Whether that is a performance or not is controversial, but as it happens in a public space has something to do with performance.

I woke up around midnight from a slightly restful nap and headed to a pub where Luciara was getting together with a few colleagues. They were, of course, more drunk with their happiness levels quite high, therefore, in another mood. Which I enjoyed to share.

About three am I left them and started walking to the where the buses to the event would ran from. While it had been a pleasant walk, was odd to see the drunk crowd, and, on the other side of the river... Had eaten a Burger King before saved my life as my hungriness wouldn't have been killed by some fresh wind from the Irish sea.

In the docklands, Dublin port, there is a structure that goes from the land out to sea for about one mile, I guess to protect against waves and calm the sea out for ferries and other sea entities. The performance happened over that place. Which was an interesting choice.

I'd dad a good feeling in what had started as a beautiful and clean summer morning. Despite the chilliness and body shaking, was pretty liberating and refreshing let our bodies being smoothed by the sea wind.

The sky was painted with a grey palette, the sun hadn't showed up, he got his first of the three acts done. As I first stated, I had considered it a performance, among other things, for... while we're doing the first act, three or four massive ferries arrived at Dublin port, sailing very close to us. People were yelling, screaming, showing their asses. That would be a surreal experience for a passenger without knowing nothing about the event, to see 2500 people naked.

First act finished off, everybody dressed up again, a bit wrecked from waking up early and still completely wake at half past five.

To add a very Irish touch at the performance, it started raining. I'd no options apart of socialize, seeking help under the umbrella of a very kind Irish girl, Finn. With all people dressed up again, guess what happened? The second act was cancelled, the majority of people went back to their cozy houses, while a few hundreds, including me, joined the last freezing and funny act. Which was basically get naked and run to a shallow beach beside us. We were completely wet by the rain and sea water, people were running freely and throwing water on the other fellows around. Was great, good feeling. Then we had to stop for a few minutes for him to get his shot taken. He took a shot with peoples head down, which in my point of view had nothing to do with the vibe we were in. Was kind of a cliche', depressed washed human beings, there were probably more pictures taken before and after that might be chosen instead.

Like a wet and sandy chicken I started walking back home. Smoked a cigarette with a fellow walking to the bus and let my adrenaline levels pour down. After the last intense and cold act, my heart was beating faster than usual, was very attentive, tired and satisfied. The last thing I've heard from an Irish lad on the streets coming back home was: what's the story of these plastic bags?