Shock and awe | 18 June 2011

Two weeks ago, the unsettling proximity of a perfectly sculpted naked male butt with my nose made me think again about the critic/artist relationship. I am talking, of course, about Dave St Pierre’s much talked about performance of Un peu de tendresse bordel de merde! at Sadler’s Wells, the raunchiness of which attracted and dominated the interest of various media for a few days. Chastely translated into ‘a little tenderness, for crying out loud’ — although a more appropriate translation would be ‘a little tenderness, for fuck’s sake!’ — the 2006 work, like many other examples of modern day dance- theatre, relies considerably on shock values, although it also includes some excellent choreography.

Being a child of the Sixties, and having grown up with a now much idealised avant-garde, I take no exception to nudity, not even when it is so literally in your face. After all, St Pierre’s naked artists, running amok among the audience while begging to be tickled, are not that different from the naked artists of the 1960s/1970s Living Theatre, who tied themselves to your seat and asked you to remove strategically placed ropes to reclaim your viewer’s place.