ON the eighth hole this afternoon, a long and straight par-4 to an elevated tee protected by escarped bunkers, Doctor Yowie lifted his head (after the stroke, of course) and exclaimed that the $600,000+ given to Balletlab and poo guru Mikala Dwyer should prompt a criminal prosecution. He is a broad-minded fellow, so it was not the act of public defecation that bothered him so much as the chief luvvies' claim that a performance centred on bowel movements is something new and radical.
"Haven't this lot heard of Luis Bunuel?" he wondered.
And then the penny dropped, which is not the same as spending a penny.
In The Age, which has a known affinity with crap, the director of the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art, Juliana Engberg, is quoted thus:
''When Mikala brought this idea of a performance and film dealing with
material transformation and ritual to us, we evaluated it as a key and
bold move in her practice, one that links to a long artistic legacy
looking at alchemical transformation and magical performance. The work,
while challenging taboos, never becomes sensational or gratuitous. It's
wonderful, powerful work.''
That "key and bold move in her practice" is 41 years behind the times. At the Billabong's local video store you can rent Bunuel's flick for $3, a good deal less than the sums pocketed by ACCA's Empress of Excreta and her taboo-challenging Queen of the Commode.
Doctor Yowie has a point. In claiming they are on the cutting edge, Dwyer and Engberg are guilty of fraud and misrepresentation. Lock 'em up, and don't bother with making sure there is a toilet in the cell.
