Photos by Kelli McGuire / Words by Ryan Pomarico
“CAN’T BE EXPLAINED, MUST BE EXPERIENCED” boldly reads the Instagram bio of the musician and experimental performance artist Von. I hadn’t noticed it until I sat down to write this very piece, but wow, is that the perfect way to describe her “single release party” for latest track “MOMMY 2.0” last Friday. I put that in quotations because I have been to plenty of single release parties (not in quotations), and they are always dreadfully predictable. It’s always at the same venue, like Home Sweet Home or Heaven Can Wait, filled to a fourth of the capacity. There are some decent DJs and overpriced drinks. The host usually tries to get the crowd hyped when the song premieres. Some people cheer, most people are indifferent. Everyone goes home unchanged. Von’s party had none of that.
Organized by her art collective, BLOODYMARY, the event was a multi-phased, industrial birthing ritual of sorts. The event was fittingly called “Labor,” but I didn’t understand exactly what this meant when I received the private invitation. Von was posed nude in the center of this old factory-like venue, with a plastic divider separating her at the hip. To her right and left were her two “nurses,” dressed in white outfits and metal mouth gags, also mostly nude. All around them was a circle of spectators and 20 photographers who were trying to capture every last moment. A massive timer was projected on one of the walls, counting down from one hour. Obviously, I knew the song was going to come out when the clock hit midnight, but I was not prepared for what would happen directly after that. More on that in a second — first, I have to praise the open bar in the other room.
Any event in New York City that has an actual open bar to me is 10/10 off the bat. Don’t ever invite me to an “open bar for the first hour” scam where people are waiting outside during that window, or one where it’s supposed to be an open bar but somehow no one can get a drink, or they RUN OUT. Granted, it was limited to seltzer mixed drinks and wine, but that’s literally all I drink, so I was vibing. Plus, unlimited free 2 mg edibles? I could write this whole piece just about that and the unethical false advertising of using the open bar premise, but I digress.
I got back into the main area and found a spot somewhere in the chaos of people. Von and one of the nurses walked through the space to the bathroom and started pounding on the door loudly and forcefully. Whoever was in there probably just thought it was some jerk who really had to pee. I couldn’t imagine opening the door to expect a confrontation with someone, only to see the artist writhing on the floor and screaming at you. It made me laugh pretty hard and sigh in relief that it wasn’t me, who had been in there not 3 minutes before. When the clock struck midnight, the real show began.
Although it is not to be explained, only experienced, I’ll allow the female subject to explain the female subject matter. In her words: “I’ll have 20 feet of kitchen twine in me that one of my dancers will pull out of me mid-event and hook to the wall, so that everyone needs to limbo around it in some way to then leave the space. Then I’m going to get branded with a big chest tattoo because to me, motherhood is like breeding, birthing, branding on a loop.” And that is exactly what happened, beat for beat.
The event was already purposefully claustrophobic, like a dark industrial womb, and the addition of the wire definitely made it more difficult to maneuver. While it served a symbolic purpose, it also forced people to witness the art in real time. In the age of social media and desensitization, it’s hard to find ways to truly shock people. While I am a crazy guy and had no issue being in the room for all of this, I could feel genuine confusion and fascination around me. It was a breath of fresh air from the norm, and I found that to be pretty cool. Nothing to me shows that an artist has faith in their own process more than baring yourself and getting a tattoo in a room full of strangers.
When the single in question, “MOMMY 2.0,” came on, people weren’t on their phones or chatting. Everyone was like “wtf is going on” and “hey, this song is pretty good” at the same time. It’s creative marketing for a left-field, whispery dark pop track. Its warped vocal edits and driving drums make the strange, childlike lyrics a little more palatable. Just like the edibles and tequila made the horrors in the other room a little more bearable. Just like anesthesia makes childbirth a little less painful. Von described the song and the event as a sort of reflection on “being a surrogate” for your art, and the “breeding, birthing, branding” cycle of pregnancy and labor.
While I think with a bigger budget all around, some of the elements could’ve been more immersive, that’s not a knock on it. When you take risks to get your message across, it provokes people. If the provocation you’re presenting is well-crafted and purposeful, it’s only a matter of time before people are willing to become patrons of that art — a.k.a. fund events or buy tickets. Her collective, alongside event master Chlomosexual Presents, already sold out a Terminal 5 rave last Halloween. The next level of production value, performance art, and music is right around the corner, and I’ll be there next time to let you know what insanity goes down then. For now, that’s all I got.
Video by Crows Grudge