LE VOYEUR, la grande collection

Description

On January 1, 2008 I began a 365-Day Self-Portrait Subscription.

For one year I took a photograph of myself every day and sent each photograph every day to paying subscribers. I hoped to answer some questions: What story or stories will the pictures tell a stranger? How varied will the subscribers’ assumptions, fantasies, and projections be? How much will those fantasies reflect the viewer and how much the subject? What kind of intimacy will develop between the subject and the anonymous viewer? What is the relationship between the exhibitionist and voyeur? What will it become?

The photographs, though obviously consistent in subject, varied in style. Some were dirty, some were abstract, some were theatrical, some required no title and some were dependent on one. One day I duct-taped my mouth shut, put the newspaper on my lap, tied myself to a chair, and titled the picture “How much is she worth to you?” Another day I made my own tombstone, lay beneath it, and called it “practicing.” I was particularly pleased with a black eye I gave myself using eyeliner and lipstick for a picture entitled, “I know he doesn’t really mean it.”

In May of 2008 I went through some difficult weeks. I was heartbroken and poor (again). I photographed myself in a panic attack. The panic attack picture was followed by a suicidal poet series (head in the oven, stones in my pockets) that led one subscriber to un-subscribe. He sent me a thoughtful email requesting that I let him know if I was healthy enough that my interest in romantic suicide might not be practical. “You create amazing art,” he said, “and like all good art it affects those who view it.” Five months in and I had a compelling answer to some of my questions as well as a great flattery.

I hope to exhibit the collection soon and am working on its accompanying book that will include all 366 photographs (it was a leap year). My subscribers included two writers, an inventor, a venture capitalist and a photographer who will step out of the shadows to contribute their impressions. I also sent a picture to myself each day and have a complete unopened and postmarked set that is available to the collector for the price of a modest but fully-loaded car.

That set is available here. The photographs were taken, printed, signed and dated, put in an enveloped and signed by the artist. The envelopes were sent and postmarked by the United States Postal Service.

Only one unopened set is in existence.

Added on Nov 24, 2009