Essays

A series of critical essays discussing Spencer Tunick's work.

Use the menu on the left to read Sarah Kent's Raw and Uncensored.

Everyday People: The Organiser’s Perspective

Kate Farrell, Curator (Special Exhibitions), The Lowry

Day Two

And so day 2 began. Slightly less nervous, certainly more tired, Emily and I pulled up at The Lowry for the second morning running, 1.30am on the dot, bolstered by the successes of the previous day. Would there be a queue like there was yesterday? We ran around the side of the building to find out. There they were, hundreds of eager participants, security guards, Salford Police, this was starting to feel normal. But not quite, despite the success of the previous day, the coverage on the 10 o’clock news the night before, the elation of the participants as they undressed for the first time, the relief that so many of the things we thought could go wrong didn’t, the overwhelming fear of the unknown still loomed.

The day ahead of us involved more traveling, a fiddly schedule, strict time restrictions, a tired crew. But there was a whole new crowd of people waiting to take a leap of faith in the name of art and we knew we had to recreate the success of the first day.

Registration ran smoothly, like a well oiled machine we set to work-men to the desks on the left, women on the right, volunteers ticking off names and checking the model release forms like it was second nature. Registration was particularly nerve wracking on the first day, for weeks I’d walked through the route the participants would take outside the building as well as inside The Lowry, making sure no stone was left unturned. It was a surreal feeling to see the realization of months of planning coming together. The participants snaked through The Lowry and waited patiently until it was time to board the buses. The buses filled up, the buses left. Hang on, all the buses left, with half of the organisational team still at The Lowry! Those radios came in handy, bus 8 back to The Lowry please, and we were off.

Meanwhile Spencer and his team were making their way to the first location, Castlefield-a residential area and popular nightspot, we needed to be quick so we could clear the site before early morning joggers took to the streets.

The coaches pulled up on Liverpool Road and the participants were directed towards the first set up of the day, this was the fifth I'd witnessed this weekend and it was no less awe inspiring. Spencer addressed them as he had the previous day; no smiles, no eye glasses please.

It was colder than day 1, significantly so. 5.45am, a biting wind, 500 people undressed, clambered into barges, onto bridges, walked and stopped, changed positions, and ran like the wind that was so present when Spencer gave them the all clear to re-clothe. But not so fast, men over 60, actually, men with grey hair, you're still needed.

While the volunteers directed everyone back onto the buses I sprinted towards the open top bus, our trusty mode of transport throughout the weekend. The bus was such a feature of this unique experience, as well as being visually impressive, it transported the artist, the crew and the equipment around the 2 cities all weekend, it was where impromptu debriefing happened, it was where ad hoc plans were made along the way.

Our trusty driver Lance, armed with directions, set off for location 2 of day 2, The Lowry. It would have been sensible to make this the first set up following registration, but the complex nature of the schedule and noise restrictions on Salford Quays meant we had to wait until after 7am to take the shot.

Participants were directed into The Lowry, we had a 20 minute wait until the noise restriction lifted, time to warm up. Spencer raised spirits and gave instructions for the next set up to minimize time outside. But it was soon time for everyone to undress and head outdoors. It's windy on the Quays, the only time during the weekend a participant had to come back inside. The crew remained inside The Lowry, out of shot-the only set up I didn’t see until Spencer sent the scans through when we were producing the exhibition. We really felt for the participants at this point-it was a long day, lots of travelling and the weather wasn't kind. It's ok-next location's indoors.

Buses re-loaded, next stop, Manchester Airport. The open top bus left ahead of everyone else, there was talk of food among the crew, but no time for that. Where's that vitamin water? That'll have to do. One by one the coaches full of participants overtook us, can this thing go any faster?

And so we arrived at the Concorde hanger, but we were against the clock, the viewing park was opening and the Sunday morning spotters were going to get more than they bargained for.

Participants were ushered into the reception area of the hanger, tension in the air, wondering what would be required next. Spencer finalized his set up and gave the instruction to undress. He positioned people on the steps of the Concorde, under the wings, groups of men, under 35s, the airport staff watching on and not quite believing their eyes.

It was an incredible feat to secure the 8 locations across the weekend, organizations and individuals put their faith in us and we couldn’t let them down. The airport staff allowed Spencer unprecedented access to the airport hanger to realize a truly unique shot and for everyone involved it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

But it was time to go, back onto the motorway towards our final destination- Eastlands north carpark, gasometer looming in the background. Participants and crew were exhausted by this point, approaching 7 hours after registration and a weariness was taking over, the wind whipped, participants cried out in pain, standing with my 2 jackets on I really felt for them, the commitment was incredible and Spencer kept them going with his words of enthusiasm. The participants were moved into tightly packed groups, repositioned, all the time remaining patient.

I didn’t stand watching for long though, I had to instruct 2 of the bus drivers to drive to the far side of the carpark and position themselves directly one in front of the other. I’ll never forget the fear on the driver’s faces, wondering if they were to be the subjects of the next shots, they sat in their seats laughing nervously and waiting for their fate. As the men re-dressed, Spencer’s assistants ushered all the women towards the buses, they were squeezed inside, pushed against the windows, a moment of genius from Spencer as he created this inspirational shot, the 'Travel with Courtesy' logo on the side of each bus took on a completely new meaning.

And all of a sudden, it was over. We'd done it, achieved the seemingly impossible. The months of schedules, site visits, meetings with police, councils, landowners, not to mention the anxiety dreams, it had come to an end. I felt overwhelmed with emotion as the crew and volunteers cheered, we walked towards the open top bus. It was strangely matter of fact, job done.

I've read subsequently that participants felt an emptiness as they went about their daily chores that afternoon, shopping in their local supermarket knowing they'd been  part of something truly unique and wanting to shout it from the rooftops. I felt the same, as Emily and I drove home we were suddenly free of a project we'd lived and breathed for 6 months, what were we going to do with ourselves?

It's ok, there's an exhibition to organise, it wasn't over just yet.