Interview: John Anderson on Adrian Parsons

Anderson: Several months ago I contacted Adrian Parsons, shortly after he circumcised himself during a performance for the exhibition entitled Supple, at the Warehouse Gallery. He seemed agreeable to answer some questions, either in person or over e-mail. I shot the questions to him and waited for a response. At the beginning of August, he finally got back to me.

Adrian Parsons with his foreskin hanging on the wall
Parsons: Hello, wanted to take some time to separate the act from the hype. So here is the interview way, way post facto.

An earlier piece that I see documented on your blog involved inviting people to pull your mustache out of your face, one hair at a time, until it was gone. What is the basis for this work?

The idea was to take off the genetic predisposition for where my beard and mustache would be, to take the hairs and redistribute them. Once all the hair was off we were to mix it with melted wax and pour that on to the mold, that is, my face. The fact that I could rework a hairline with my hand and not my fathers was a weird, fun one.

Since you began Shrapnel (I am assuming this is the title) by pulling hairs from your face, is the act of auto-circumcision an extension of this previous piece? How do the two relate apart from self-mutilation (or invited mutilation to yourself)?

Both works come across chance and randomization. I was trying to get around my genes in Plucky, to disorder what is predetermined. But Shrapnel takes on the chaos of a suicide bomber, his body is distributed in to the walls of buildings, the skin of people. This kills random people, suddenly the attackers bone, physical matter, are implanted willfully in to another person. I read an account of a journalist who was nearby a suicide bomber and lived. He carries the bone of this guy in his body, his DNA's sitting right there next to his own. It's an incredible "fuck you."

How large was the audience?

30 people or so but it thinned out fast.

I was having video problems and was unable to gauge audience reaction. What was the response to you exposing yourself, removing a pocket knife, and the act of cutting? OR, were you even aware of it?

People were curious, kind of readying themselves, making small talk. Then when I started to rip out some of my beard and place it in to the wall they seemed to get that this was going to be something bloody. After the first cut, there were two responses, leaving the room or whipping out the cell-camera. You hear an ex of mine slip an "ohmygod" out of her mouth.

I would imagine this act required some psyching-up; what prepared you?

A friend said, "how'd you get the balls to cut your dick off?" Since I was going to the hospital right after I couldn't get wasted and I couldn't take vicodin or oxycotin or even smoke. If I'd come in to GW messed up I would've spent the night in the psych ward. Pulling the hair and the skin off my face helped get my adrenalin up, though.

Why a pocket knife? Why not something more medical, or kitchen-oriented?

This was a Swiss army knife that was given to me by my brother-in-law. It's only significance to the piece was that it was sharp. When people ask why I used a "dull, rusty knife" I say it took 5 cuts because it was a really sharp knife, not a dull one.

Looking at the Thinking About Art Interview from last year, you cited Jason Gubbiotti as an influence. And food. I'm going to admit I am having trouble seeing a connection in your (current) work. How is he an influence?

Food makes you go, it's the only thing you get to utterly chemically transform. It's a wonder that you masticate and acid bathe something and get to move, think and have sex because of a bowl of Chex and 1% milk. Every gesture in art is because you've got a calorie to spend.

Gubbiotti's altered canvasses, which aren't as big a deal for him now, are what I was referring too. He's got these gigantic color spaces, very placid, and then they just get completely shorn off by this violent jutting and curving wood. His paint reaches the edge of the canvas the way you might encounter the edge of the earth in some pre-Eratosthenes view of the world.

How's your dick? or have you seen a doctor since the act?

My cock is 100% thanks to Erin Krill, on-call urologist extraordinaire.