When I'm interested in a truth, it's really a truth truth, one hundred per cent. And that's a terrible kind of truth to be interested in -- Lenny Bruce
A hundred naked bodies, lying flat, fill the first picture. Drag your mouse across it,
and you'll see the names of 14 states, each with a link to a new picture. And each
picture contains a hidden link documenting the photograph's production.
Shaky handheld footage captures the squeals, the disrobing, and the voice of the
photographer cajoling his subjects into poses. In New York, there's police officers,
bringing tense talk about lawyers, permits, and the possibility of arrest. As the
photographer levels his camera, the police intercept him. He's handcuffed, and led to
the back of a police car.
Orchestrating public nudity suddenly seems oddly heroic, appropriating civic structures
for a purely artistic endeavor. Many naked people. A few naked people. A naked
pregnant woman staring into a homeless man's cart. In New York, photographer Spencer
Tunick even filmed dozens of nude models laying down in Times Square. It's all part of
an even grander project involving every state, and soon foreign countries.
Inevitably someone created a documentary -- but it's the body of work that tells the
story best. Browse through the online exhibit at Nerve.com, and you'll see Americans
committing art. Daring to be naked, and daring to be photographed.
