Spencer Tunick; a well-known American photographer, is renowned for his alternative, and ‘themed’ landscapes of famous landmarks around the world. Google him and you will see what this ‘theme’, is crowds of nude people. His latest conquest was in a field in England’s finest west country, where a festival called ‘The Big Chill’ was in full swing, and where I just so happened to be frolicking around.

 

Coincidence? Not entirely. I knew that Tunick was going to be shooting at the festival; and having admired his work for sometime, I wanted to play a part in one of his amazing installations…that, and sitting in a field with hippies for a few days drinking cider and dancing around expressively in floral, multicoloured clothing.

 

It was a sunny, sleepy Sunday morning at about 7am. Festival revellers were stirring after a heavy Saturday night; others were still awake and delirious from said heavy night. I fell into the latter category. My friends and I decided against the option of sleep, believing we would sleep through the nude escapade, so we endured.

 

As the sun was hitting the slope of the hill on the east side of the festival, Spencer’s team explained to 700 eager participants what they wanted from this piece and what it was to signify. In light of the recent Gulf of Mexico BP oil spill, Tunick was to take a difference stance to the rest of his work, by dividing the crowd into 5 groups and painting them black, blue, teal, yellow and pink. Some people nodded in appreciation, others simply didn’t care and just wanted to shed their clothing!

 

All of a sudden, Tunick stopped talking (I was obviously not paying that much attention!), people stood up and started stripping off their clothing and smothering their bodies with the paint colour of their choice. There was no embarrassment, no hesitation, and no shame in the methods used to get the paint into all manner of nook and cranny.

 

Tunick, armed with camera and megaphone on top of a crane, started directing the crowd into different formations, colour mish-mashes and positions. The atmosphere was electric, with the odd giggle infecting its way across the crowd. He got the crowd standing, sitting, and lying down in a tangle of limbs, with our legs and arms up in the air this-way-and-that. After 3 hours of colourful nakedness, the crowd climbed back up the hill; some to take part in life modelling, others to take their own photos, and a few to grab their clothing and jump in the shower!

 

As we were walking away, an eager and rather fresh faced journalist approached us, “Stay here, we’re taking a photo for the Sunday Times”, to which I ran in the opposite direction; my parents being avid Sunday Times readers – I did not want them choking on their Sunday morning eggs Benedict!

 

In the post last week I received a print of one of the photos taken that day. Luckily you don’t know what colour I was smothered in ( or what I look like naked!)… some dignity maintained!