Regrouping; the location of art-making, and a redefinition of Bikini Art

“Hi guys! It’s me, the Bikini Artist! I just got home from another exciting show, and boy, am I pooped! What a crazy night. Sometimes its sooooooo hard to get people to pay attention to art… I’ll do just about anything to get you to look at art! Thanks to everyone who came out to the show! I love sharing how much art excites me, and I hope I can help get you excited about art!”

Ok, there. She spoke. Now it’s me, Ms. Emily Vaughn. The girl behind the bikini. And after almost a year of Bikini-artisting all over Baltimore, I feel comfortable making a few… statements… about the project, and what it has become.

First off; it might appear that the Bikini Artist Project is all about me, gallivanting about the city, half naked, pulling out all the stops to get you “excited” about art. I’ll take for granted that you understand the irony; of an educated young woman, an artist at that, trying to participate in the art world. I’m obviously using sex to sell art, and know that it’s a little sick, and more than a little degrading. If you’ve been to any of my shows, you know that I like to teach you about the political atmosphere at the time of an art movement. I often rely on the sexual overtones of any given masterpiece and teach about the sordid details behind these images that float through our precious art history texts. I hope that it would be obvious that this is, on some level, a joke. There is an artist, a painter, a historian, and a performer behind this bizarre spectacle.

Here’s the kicker; it’s not about me anymore. It’s about you. You’re my little Guinea pigs now, and the Bikini aArtist is put on display not so much as an art piece in itself, but as a means to generate a reaction from the audience. As many of you know, the BA project began as my senior thesis. (for more background; read my mission statement) at MICA. This was great; the piece was not universally well received, and many of its flaws were approached in a professional artistic setting. Very valuable. Upon graduation, I was determined to “be an artist”—I’d seen many a graduate waste away after 4 years of visual art study, and no longer feel as enthusiastic about art making, much less about trying to make art outside of the “art world.” During critiques, the question of “who is your audience?” kept popping up; my fellow artists struggled with a piece that “taught” them about art history, painting, and kooky feminist irony, because they already knew these things. It was, some thought, redundant. Okay. Point taken.

So, I graduated. And fueled by god knows what secrets I won’t divulge here, I decided to take Miss Bikini Girl on the road. I wasn’t well prepared for the gallery scene, nor did I feel that I was well connected enough after 4 years at mica to delve into the networking nessesary to become a “successful artist.” I had to remove the project from the art world in order for it to succeed.

My first show took place at a goth club in DC. This was very weird. However, at this venue, I discovered a few new and exciting things about the bikini artist. I was thrilled when people actually got it. Kids that I never would have associated with were approaching me in a setting that I never would have gone to on my own. I was not in a gallery, I was not in a museum; I was in a setting that really had nothing to do with art. This being my first show, I was still working a few of the kinks out. I used the space more for exhibition than performance. I presented my viewers with my Bikini Artist “merchandise,” pin-up photography (self portraiture as well as portraits of other women), and paintings. I also made my first public appearance as the bikini artist; I went to the bathroom to change, and when I came out I attempted to adopt her persona. For the first time, I was faced with my alter ego in a public setting. I was forced to confront where Emily ended and the Bikini Artist began. I was also able to interact with my audience in a way that took down many of the barriers created in a gallery setting. Before, my audience was watching a video in a sanctioned art-viewing area. Now, they were talking to me, looking at my body, and questioning what I was doing directly. It was far more interesting to me as an artist.

Since that first show, I have appeared as the bikini artist in a number of different venues, ranging from dirty Baltimore bars, to rock and roll shows, late night variety acts, and strait out burlesque. I have also had the opportunity to come back to MICA as a visiting artist, and speak to a small body of students about my work. It has become apparent to me that the question of “who is your audience” might simply be answered with “my audience is my art piece.” Every location that I perform at becomes part of the ever growing body of work; every individual that reacts to my presence becomes part of the larger idea of what the bikini artist might accomplish.

I always take personal joy in “breakthrough moments,” where my viewer understands the scope of the initial project, and questions me about its background, and where it is headed. During on of my shows, a gentleman came up to me with the common request to buy me a drink. I believe in this case, I declined. (I do sometimes go with it! for art’s sake, honestly…) In the following hour, he and I conversed about the bikini artist, and eventually I felt that I had communicated to him an idea that he might not have come to on his own. After our discussion, he was well aware of the subversive feminist ideas inherent in the piece, the historical significance of Manet’s Olympia, as well as the fact that I was, in is opinion “hot.” He purchased one of my self portraits, and explained to me that he was in the army, and was going to be stationed in Africa during the coming months. He asked me sign the photo, and told me he would hang it up in his barracks as a tribute to my pinup heritage. While I’m sure that his fellow soldiers might not all be aware of the story behind the photo, I felt that my work would probably be more powerful and at home in that location than in a gallery setting. I privately considered the purchase of that piece, as well as its final home, as part of a grander installation. Covert pinup icon equals success.

While these “breakthroughs” are grand and idyllic, I am defiantly not above appreciating the less forgiving audiences. There have been a number of occasions where people defiantly DID NOT get it. There have been audiences that have not been able to interpret the image and presence of the Bikini artist the way I intended it to be. This, I feel, is also an intricate part of the piece. I am, of course, personally frustrated when this occurs, but attempt to view my own frustration as part of the art making experience. A man attempts to buy me a drink, touches me too freely, and indicates that I might perform sexual favors in order to get him to like art. Someone inquires when the bikini artist will finally become the naked artist. My own grandmother feels that I am exposing myself to danger, and that I am sinning against god. And; just tonight, I performed to a majority lesbian audience, and was shocked by the level of disrespect that bordered on violence. I approach not only their actions but also my reactions to their bad behavior, as informative. There has to be information behind the fact that I am upset. There has to be a reason they felt it was okay to be disrespectful to me. These are the moment I feel will perhaps be the most informative in the bikini artist project’s processes.

Any given audience reaction teaches me more about the space between an art piece and its viewer. Only by occupying that space myself am I able to truly experience this happening.