On Sunset at the Drury Plaza Hotel (and being a deviant in public)
This fall, I was the fortunate recipient of a scholarship to attend Review Santa Fe—a curated photography portfolio festival hosted by CENTER, a photo organization based in Santa Fe. The event invites 100 photographers from all over the world to share their work with writers, curators, and publishers during a long weekend under the same roof.
My scholarship came through a joint effort by the University of New Mexico Art Museum (where I am pursuing my graduate degree in studio art) and CENTER, as part of an effort to make the festival more accessible to MFA students/young artists like myself. In conjunction with the scholarship, Laura Pressley, the Director from CENTER reached out to me and asked if I would be willing to stage a performance at the welcoming reception for the festival. I have staged a few live performances and character appearances as Atmus for events in the past, and was excited to work with this new opportunity.
With the parameters in mind: big event with lots of photo people, social atmosphere, lots of tired folks getting off long flights/drives—I decided on a piece that would function somewhat like a photo-op; something accessible and participatory, something that didn’t require folks full attention for any span of time as they also would also be networking the minute they got in. The plan was to ask folks to pose with cute, cuddly, and (to strangers) confusing, Atmus in front of a majestic and apocalyptic landscape of my own design. Artistically, my interest was in producing a work that would be light on first view, while providing subtle opportunities for subversion and cultural critique.
Ultimately, the piece changed in many ways by the time it came to stage the performance. If I were judging the piece in regards to my initial intentions, I’d probably call it a mixed success at best. The venue changed, the application of the background changed, it wasn’t the perfect construction I had envisioned in my head. Despite best intentions, I ended up spending a lot of the night interacting with confused folks who didn’t know I was an artist, didn’t know this was a piece, and (devastatingly) occasionally asked if I was a some kind of mascot.
But, even though the piece didn’t go like I planned, I still found the experience to be interesting, worthwhile and meaningful. This, I’m learning, is the name of the game with performance art. There are so many moving parts in such a formless medium, you can’t really know what the thing is about until it’s done.
There was something to be made of people’s varied reactions to Atmus. In the photo above, the two approached me looking something like that with questions about what I was doing. I asked them if they would hold there poses for a picture, keep some distance and “look at me like I’m a weirdo”, which really felt like giving them permission to express themselves. Afterwards they laughed and we got along fine.
Many folks were happy just to pose for a photo together, and literally asked no questions of me. I’m reminded of people’s (myself included) impulse to pull out a camera/phone and take a photo of a beautiful sunset or a pretty meal when they come upon it. Photographs are a way to make an experience into a checkbox; to say “I did that” and move on.
Some folks did come up and ask for an explanation about the performance, and in those conversations I found more dynamic participants. I told people that the background was about the world feeling like it’s breaking, and that I dress up as Atmus because I’m sick of being a person because people are killing the planet. I asked people to pose with me like it’s the apocalypse and we’re all going through it together.
A primary concern for me was (and always is when I make work with my fursuit or other furries) that I don’t end up looking like nothing more than a mascot or some joke. After making art with/about this community for a decade now, I have a pretty decent idea of what to expect from strangers. People want to be able to make sense of the world around them, and furries/fursuits are a big question-mark to a layperson. IMO it’s this need to understand that leads folks to reduce and stereotype furries so inelegantly “Oh, it’s a mascot, now I get it.” “Oh it’s a sex thing, now I get it.” or according to the CNN This is Life with Lisa Ling’s hot take explainer:“Oh, it’s for traumatized people, now I get it.”
My interest in presenting as a figure that resists simplification is what lead me to stage this (and numerous other) performances with my fursuit sheath attached to my costume. As one puzzled passerby put it when regarding me, “Well, that’s anatomically correct!” Keeping my sheath on Atmus is one thing that might create pause in folks grabbing me unsolicited or without fear of consequence. It provides the character with a modicum of personal space, and it takes him one step into the uncanny between a flat character and a real body. (FTR I think that’s a decent self-description of a fursona for me: something that is both/neither a character and myself, something in-between.)
Most folks didn’t even notice the sheath at all. Some asked about it playfully or hesitantly, a small few people gave me a wide berth, but most people got along just fine. The Mayor was especially ecstatic to meet Atmus. He and several other local politicians arrived toward the end of the evening to welcome the guests at Review to Santa Fe. I asked if he would be willing to shake my hand and he emphatically agreed. We joked abut how he was getting an endorsement from the local wildlife.
After that it was pretty much the end of the piece. I wore Atmus to the opening ceremonies, where I received a shoutout from Laura on behalf of CENTER. I got applause and laughter from the crowd. The rest of the weekend I shared my portfolio of photos with dozens of strangers, and had several people tell me before walking away that they felt more informed about, more interested in, and more understanding of the Furry community and Furry identity.
So, I think it’s interesting to compare that experience then, to the reception of some photos of my performance on Furry twitter. The image of Atmus shaking hands with the Mayor ended up circulating on instagram and Twitter over the last few days, and it garnered a whole lot of attention. Here are some excerpts:
Also, to note, they weren’t all bad, a lot of it was just good-natured shit posting.
Here’s the worst one though:
So, I am not surprised that this turned into a provocative post on twitter. It’s a quality meme image: a fursuit shaking hands with a politician—with the forbidden sheath out no less. Truthfully, I would have liked to share the images of the event for the first time in my own fully informed and carefully planned context. As I described in the experience of the performance, the presence of the sheath was a minor novelty at most. But, that isn’t a reasonable thing to expect folks to understand from a single image out of context, and that is okay.
What is striking though, is the complete obsession by some over the bits on Atmus, and the assumption that I, by simply wearing them during this performance had irrevocably damned Furries in the minds of the interacting public/politicians. Reading deeper, an assumption that is baked into these reactions is that those people would be right to hate furries for our supposed deviancy.
The first assumption demonstrably did not happen, I know this by the recounting of those I interacted with that weekend and after other similar pieces. But it’s the second point that really sticks with me because oh-my-god can’t we just be fucking comfortable with ourselves??? The idea that sex=bad, sexuality=shamefulness does not get us any degree toward a more comfortable, equitable, or free society. And the idea that Furries need to cover up any whiff of sexual liberation that we enjoy, for fear of mass cultural rejection is straight bogus. I cant speak for every furry, but for me—and most of my furry friends—a nuanced and shameless relationship to sexuality has been a hands-down net positive on life, and being in the Furry community played a huge role in that.
Like I said, I can’t speak for how every Furry feels, we are a nebulous group without shape or center and that’s great. Not every furry needs to weave their sexuality into their experience of the community. But, I’m telling you it doesn’t help any of us to try and cover up the fact of it as a large part of our community. It definitely doesn’t help us to self-police with such scrutiny that we make our own hell without even the oppressors help.
I don’t know how to resolve this thought here without going off on some bigger tangent. There is a whole additional context for the situation, which is that it was an art piece. Art has many functions from soothing and delighting to provoking and disturbing, it’s okay for some people to be disturbed by this piece. It is not a mistake; it is welcomed, even. It’s okay to rock the boat, the boat needs rocking!
I hope that some Furries who saw the image and felt some knee-jerk fear of persecution might feel a little better after reading this. I don’t blame folks for feeling the effects of mass cultural disapproval, but I hope that we can learn to see past its power over us, and make sure we don’t fall into the trap of self-censorship.
In lieu of a full conclusion, here is a meme. A favorite of mine. I’ve been treating it a bit like a mantra, a reminder that the freedom of expression that I enjoy is intrinsically linked to societal deviancy. Stay weird!
PS, if you liked this writing and you would like to support my work in the future, you can support me on patreon.com—a word of warning though, I am currently embroiled in a conflict with the site in which they have censored my artworks, and I’m currently figuring out an alternative. That said, the money you send me through that site still helps me more than it helps them. :)
https://www.patreon.com/tommybruce
