Buffalo Central Terminal

Buffalo in the Buff
Volunteers plan to shed their inhibitions in the name of art

By ANNE NEVILLE
News Staff Reporter
8/12/2004

The marble terrazzo floor of the Central Terminal combines linear and curving elements in an intricate four-color pattern. It’s also chilly and somewhat dusty,
although it’s been swept several times recently.

The 2,332 people who have signed up for artist Spencer Tunick’s nude installation inside the terminal will probably get a very close look at that floor Sunday. Tunick directs his nude volunteers through a series of poses that usually involves lying on the floor or sidewalk - inside Grand Central Station, at the Saatchi Gallery in London or in the plaza outside the Montreal Art Museum. The arrangement is photographed, but Tunick considers the installation itself to be the artwork.

Tunick “was very specific that he didn’t want the floor washed or polished,” said Russell E. Pawlak, president of the Central Terminal Restoration Corp., which joined with the Albright-Knox Art Gallery to sponsor the installation.

But a little dust isn’t going to deter four Western New Yorkers who have signed up to pose for Tunick. They admit they’re not free from anxiety - after all, isn’t being naked in public a common nightmare? - but the reasons compelling them to be part of the installation are far stronger than any self-consciousness they might feel.

“This was something I had to do,” said Pat Prior, 50, of Williamsville, a medical systems librarian who studied and taught ballet and now makes jewelry. “Age 50 is a big milestone, and we can only do so much in our lifespan.”

When she told her husband and 18-year-old son that she planned to pose, “they had looks on their faces of total shock,” she said. “My husband said, “I can’t
believe you’re doing that,’ but then there was a begrudging sense of admiration. I think they thought it was kind of odd, but kind of brave, too.”

Prior said she has confidence in the artist, who has his volunteers undress at the same time and directs the arrangement of their bodies with a bullhorn from atop a ladder or lift. Instructions on the Albright-Knox Web site tell volunteers, “You will only be nude for a short period of time.” The exact time of the installation is being shared only with volunteers, and no spectators will be allowed inside the terminal while the participants are nude.

“I had read a lot about the artist, and how he orchestrates it - it’s almost choreographed,” said Prior. “The whole idea of having a vision and having it come out as a major artwork, I wanted to be part of that.”

For Gerald Mead, 41, of North Buffalo, curator of education and outreach at the Burchfield-Penney Art Gallery, participating is a measure of his commitment to art.

“Artists, to achieve their vision, will often need cooperation and collaboration from a lot of people,” he said. “Artists depend on the kindness of others. In this case, Spencer needed to depend on the kindness of a couple of thousand people.

“If (Tunick) were a painter and he did a large mural, he would require large amounts of paint. In this case, we’re being called upon to become the paint. How can you say, “I really believe in what you’re doing, but I can’t become the paint?’ You have to overcome your individual trepidation for the larger concept.”

Mead believes the installation will be great for the city. “This, as a performance event happening in Buffalo, is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. For Buffalo, this puts us in the category of capitals in Europe where he’s done this. It’s an extremely significant and phenomenal opportunity, to be part of something like this.”

At Tunick’s most recent installation, in Cleveland, 2,754 people showed up in 57-degree temperatures in the early hours of June 26 to be photographed near the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, setting the North American record for the largest number of naked people in a photograph. The world record is held by Barcelona, where 7,000 people turned out to be photographed by Tunick in 2003.

“The challenge there is that we know quite a few people showed up in Cleveland for it,” Mead said. “It would be nice to think that in a city like Buffalo, we’d be as successful in giving the artist everything he needs to realize his vision.”

“About 50 to 60 percent of those who sign up, show up for the installation” in other cities, says Holly E. Hughes, project curator at the Albright-Knox.

The oldest person who signed up for the Buffalo installation is 84, she said, while the highest concentration of people who signed up are in their 50s and 60s. “I think people are over their body issues by then,” Hughes said. “Buffalo has really come out for this. Who knew?”

“There are times in your life when you have to challenge yourself,” Mead said. “If you believe in something, you have to believe in it 100 percent. And this is going to be an experience that you’ll talk about and remember for years to come.”

Theresa Baker, 28, of Buffalo, said, “Once the clothes come off, it might take a second to adjust, but I think it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

Baker, who works at Lexington Co-Op, plays in the band Readybox, and hosts a radio show called speakEasy on WHLD 1270-AM on Wednesday mornings, said, “Anytime anything out of the ordinary comes to Buffalo, I think it’s exciting to try to be a part of it.”

But she’s also curious about how the experience will change her and the others who pose for Tunick. “People have so many hang-ups about their bodies. You can create this safety zone with your clothes. I’m really interested to see what’s going to happen with these people that I see every day walking down the street, and now I’ve seen them naked. What is our interaction going to be like from this point forward?”

Eddie Lock Sr., 58, of Riverside, says he didn’t hesitate to sign up, although he still hasn’t told his adult daughter. “At first it was just kind of a giggle, an “I’ll do anything for fun’ kind of thing, but part of it is celebrating God’s art. There’s painting and there’s sculpture, there’s poetry, there’s different art that we say we create, but it’s all from God’s gift of beauty, and that’s what the body is, too,” he said.

Lock, who worked many jobs, including driving a cab, food service and cleaning, before he retired on disability, says the idea also appeals to him as a way of “celebrating my freedom. I left home just before I turned 19 and I got married just after I turned 20. You don’t get to know yourself much in a year. First I was somebody’s child, then I was somebody’s husband, somebody’s father. Now I’m getting to be me.

“I wonder if maybe I’ll be a little self-conscious at the beginning,” muses Lock, “but who wouldn’t be?”

Pawlak, whose corporation took over the vandalized, trash-strewn Central Terminal in 1997, is excited at the opportunity for the terminal “to collaborate with a world-class art museum, the Albright-Knox, and an up-and-coming star in the art world. Nudes and landscapes and cityscapes have always been classics in Western art, and this is a continuation of that tradition. I think the building will be a great contributing actor in that performance.”

Donn Geyer, his wife, Kathy Ann Geyer, and his mother, Grace Geyer, stopped in to get a look inside the terminal while Pawlak was showing visitors around. While Geyer and his wife said they supported the installation, his mother wasn’t so sure. “I never heard of anything like this before,” she said dubiously. But Kathy Ann Geyer said, “I think it’s great!” and her husband added, “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

To sign up to participate in the Spencer Tunick installation Sunday, visit www.albrightknox.org/tunick or call 882-8700. Everyone who poses will receive a photo of the installation from the artist.