Andres Serrano Turns Feces into Fine Art

Andres Serrano is the type of artist cultural commentators like Bill O'Reilly love to rail against. It started back in 1989, when the photographer had the gall to submerge a crucifix in urine. Later, Serrano's "A History of Sex" pushed the envelope further, with nude geriatrics, men in the midst of self-fellatio and abstractly rendered shots of flying ejaculate.

The provocateur's new show, "Sh*t" (no asterisks in the original title) -- opens at Yvon-Lambert Gallery in New York and Paris this month. It's a collection of artfully composed, elegant portraits of human and animal feces, many of which were taken at a zoo in Ecuador. And while viewers may notice that the images are handled with taut technical skill, it's a whole other question whether they will find them as "seductive and handsome" as Serrano himself.

Take a look at the gallery and Asylum's interview with Serrano, and let us know what you think.


Serrano discusses "Sh*t" after the jump.




How did you manage to take something's that's literally sh*t and take photos that are so beautifully composed?
The word sh*t brings all kinds of connotations. In this case, I tried to do what I always try to do: find beauty. I felt good that I succeeded in doing that. I like working with unusual subject matter; sh*t was the most unusual subject mater I've ever worked with.

Is it a natural progression? You've worked with different body fluids before.
I was once asked during a lecture if there were things I wouldn't work with and I said "sh*t." I feel like it is a natural progression, but it took a long time, many years, for me to realize that. Once I made up my mind to do it, it was not so difficult. I saw it as a sort of scientific investigation. It was an aesthetic investigation.

Was this done in a studio, or in a natural environment?
The first couple were pictures of my sh*t and my dog's sh*t, which I did at home. Most of the sh*t I did was in Ecuador, in a zoo and farms where I had access to many different kind of animal sh*ts. I had access to whatever sh*ts I wanted. They gave me a small room; I set up a studio, the zookeepers brought me the sh*t. A couple of times I went out and got some sh*t myself -- rabbit sh*t, turtle sh*t. Mostly it was set up so that I would just be shooting all day.

What was the most shocking sh*t you photographed?
The sh*t of a priest: "Holy Sh*t." It was not a priest I knew, it was a priest I found. I think that was the most surprising sh*t of all. It was in some ways the most difficult.

A lot of your work has dealt with what people assume is obscenity, mixed with religious implications ...
In the case of "Holy Sh*t," it's hardly an obscenity. One of the things that I found that made me feel that I was on the right track: In giving the pictures titles, I realize how the word sh*t could apply to so many things. In everyday language we use "sh*t" in so many ways. "Holy sh*t" is not even sacrilegious anymore. If you Google 'bullsh*t' it comes out 15 million times. Not only visually, but also conceptually, the show is very strong, because of its use of language.

Is there a risk that people would treat this as an oddity, a joke?
The proof is in the work itself and the pictures themselves. Some to me are very moving, such as "Jaguar Sh*t" and "Hieronymus Bosch Sh*t." It looks like a figure out of a Bosch painting. It really does. I find it very strange, but medieval-looking, out of this world, very mysterious. In certain cases I would see figures, very clear faces in the subject matter. You can see all kinds of things into it. But most of all you can see beauty.

A lot of criticism of your work comes from those people who haven't been to the show. They go on a talk show and start ranting about it. Is it true that "All press is good press"?
In a way I always encourage and want good press, but I also realize that any kind of press makes people curious and makes a lot of people want to go see it. Sometimes when you say "Don't do something," that's when people want to do it.

What is it about sh*t that makes it this last taboo?
It's really strong material. It's very repulsive but at the same time it's a natural thing, it's something most of us have to deal with almost on a daily level. I think what's going to happen with my show, a lot of people, even some artists, will think: Wow, I could have done that. Why hasn't this been done before? It's not so bad.

Could you see one of these pieces hanging above the dining room table, or in the kitchen? Is that a leap people aren't willing to make just yet?
I think they'll make it. When I did morgue, the dead people, some of the piss pictures -- everything is a revelation to the collector. All of these images were quickly accepted by the collectors. A lot of people will find these images seductive and desirable.

You said you'd never work with shit. Now that you've broken your own rule, is there any place you "wouldn't" go that you'll end up exploring?
I still wouldn't do anything with sex and children. Other than that, I don't really think of anything that I wouldn't do. My work is very instinctive. I could get an idea tomorrow and do something I never thought I'd do. I don't think about the things that I can't do, I think about the things that I will do.

Feminist theorist Helene Cixous writes the essay for this show. Where's she coming from?
She's coming from a very intellectual perspective. She gives it all kinds of social insights and psychological insights. That's the beauty of this work. It can be written about by Helene Cixous from one perspective; I speak about it from another; people who have blogs speak about it from another, too. There's a lot of food for thought here. Everyone can do their thing with it. You can intellectualize it or you can speak about it in a funny, colloquial terms. It's a subject matter that's rife with material. I wish I could go on Jon Stewart to talk about this sh*t!