Tens of thousands of visitors showed up at The World Body-painting
Festival in Austria last week to celebrate the event’s 15th anniversary of
taking human canvases to the extreme. Can the Asian public accept this art form?
IT takes four to six hours for Tommy Yap to complete a single painting, but
only a fraction of the time – 15 minutes – to wash it all off.
But that’s all right. Five years in the business has taught this 38-year-old
that beauty is fleeting, especially if it’s to do with a human canvas.
Yap, you see, is no ordinary artist. He is among only a handful of
professional paint mavericks to have emerged on the fringes of culturally
conservative Asia in the past few years. Like many of his peers, he works
according to the rules rather than around them, creating PG-rated versions from
an art form that is notorious for its erotic imagery.
“I love doing this, but you have to constantly remind yourself to work within
the boundaries of religious and cultural sensitivities,” he says.
Fierce: June, the model, after standing still for a long
time, has been transformed into a leopard by Tommy Yap and his students.
The bespectacled Yap, who wears his collared shirt neatly tucked in, looks
more like a direct salesman than Leonardo da Vinci. His creative side, however,
materialises the moment he picks up the airbrush and starts working on his
latest demo piece.
This time, his canvas is June, a freelance model in her 20s whose willowy
form is swathed in a white cotton tube and pair of shorts. With her arms and
legs splayed out like a modern-day Vitruvian woman, she stands in the middle of
the room, looking startlingly chaste.
“I think one of the biggest misconceptions is that one has to do it in the
nude. A fabric, especially if it’s not cotton, might ruin the outcome of the
work, but that shouldn’t stop you from creating art,” murmurs Yap, through a
protective mask.
Self-regulation, in his opinion, is an important ingredient if a body painter
wants to thrive in Asia.
A proud moment for Tommy Yap, a bodypainting artist.
Recently, Yap came face to face with a similar “should-I-or-shouldn’t-I”
dilemma when he was asked to paint the Malaysian flag on some models for the
Federal Territory Day parade.
Relating the incident, he explains: “I knew I would be setting myself up for
trouble if I went ahead with my client’s orders, so I requested an official
letter ... you know, just to confirm that this project had been approved by the
mayor. The whole idea was scrapped, just like I thought it would.”
Knowing how to tread the fine line between sensuality and sensibility, then,
is key. If Yap hadn’t followed his head, his career would’ve been very
short-lived.
You, too, can learn the art by joining a course at Lim Wee
Nee’s Malaysian Expert Institute of Cosmetology.
Nothing to hide
If the impulse to create art is a defining sign of humanity, the body may
well have been the first canvas. The practice has been common for centuries.
Since the 1960s, there was a revival of body painting in Western society but
even today, opinions are divided on the legitimacy of body painting as an art
form. As society evolves, however, the art form is increasingly celebrated for
offering a shrilly, stylised alternative to tiresome fashion trends. It has left
its mark on magazines, movies and – less often – on the streets.
Take Air New Zealand, for instance. In 2009, they ran a cheeky campaign
whereby the instructions on their in-flight safety video were given out by
employees in the nude covered in body paint and with strategically placed seat
belts.
A corresponding article in the
New York Times stated that “passengers
on the video’s maiden flight may have never paid more rapt attention to the line
‘undo the seat belt by lifting the metal flap’.”
But perhaps the biggest indicator that body painting is going mainstream is
the fact that the Malaysian Expert Institute of Cosmetology, headed by the
immaculately turned out principal Lim Wee Nee, is now offering classes in body
painting.
Lim became acquainted with the art form as a student 20 years ago after she
witnessed a sea of painted humans picketing for human rights on the streets of
Canada.
“It really impressed me,” she says. “You wouldn’t have guessed that body
painting would one day be considered the haute couture of cosmetics. I thought
incorporating it as an optional subject was a great way to give final-year art
students an edge in their career.”
As head instructor, Yap conducts classes whenever Lim requests for it.
Admittedly, it’s a small group. With just two, soon-to-be graduates paying
rapt attention beside him, Yap launches into action, coating June’s entire body
in non-toxic, non-allergenic yellow paint. Then, he draws on a number of black
squiggly lines on her collarbone with a brush, slowly working his way down to
her hips.
June, who’s being transformed into a mythical beast bit by bit, hardly speaks
or moves except to shiver from the occasional gust of wind that blows through
the open windows. Her job as a live mannequin may seem simple enough to the
bystander but, in Yap’s opinion, standing for six hours is no easy feat.
“I’ve worked with a number of models and I can tell you this ... not everyone
is up for it.,” he says.
Yap continues with his painting and dispensing creative pointers to the
students in between. The initial tension has all but disappeared, and it seems
like he’s engaged in something almost therapeutic. But that’s usually how it
is.
After all, think of getting up close and personal with someone you’ve only
met for five minutes and see how you feel.
“Things can get pretty awkward at first,” he admits. “That’s why it’s
important to crack jokes and laugh as you’re working. It’s a good way to break
the ice.”
Beyond the facade
Going from a make-up trainer to body painter was a natural transition for
Yap, who’s always had a passion for colours having grown up in a family whose
business was selling art supplies. But it was curiosity that ultimately drove
him to pursue body painting.
“I came across some amazing works by a few European and American body
painters who managed to camouflage an entire person in a brick wall by just
painting their bodies. I was like, ‘Wow, I’d like to do the same!’ It was very
inspiring,” he says.
It took him about a month to learn the basic techniques of body painting,
which combines the meticulous artistry of an oil painter with the special
expertise of a make-up artist. One must understand how to paint human skin. Yap
soon discovered that the craft was all about patience and practice.
“It’s nothing like painting on paper. Paper is flat, while a person has
contours. It’s also much more difficult to deal with something that’s dynamic,”
he admits.
Having a supportive and remarkably self-assured spouse also helps. Yap’s wife
(yes, he’s married) is, in fact, his biggest supporter and critic!
“My wife is not jealous at all,” he says. “She was my first test model but
she felt so cold and ticklish when I was painting that from then onwards, she
told me to look for someone else.
“I suppose she knows that when I’m body painting, I see the model as a life
canvas. It’s not something sexual.”
Yap soon embarked on an ambitious project, painting a medley of elaborate
cheongsam on different bodies, and photographing each one for future
reference.
“I wanted to do an Oriental version since all the previous artworks I’ve seen
are all very Westernised,” says Yap, adding that he hopes to do a
kebaya
series soon.
“Although my work can be washed off in an instant, it doesn’t pain me. I feel
a sense of accomplishment whenever I see my work come to life,” he says.
Business is also brisk these days, with most of his clients coming from the
beauty and fashion industries. While it sounds like amazing fun, Yap insists
that body painting can be pretty stressful.
“Half of the time, we work on a very tight schedule and only get a 10-minute
break for a quick bite. Mistakes are common. So the next time you’re at one of
our events, try and spot them!” he quips.
Asked if he has had any strange requests from clients and Yap shrugs
non-committally.
“Body painting is, by itself, strange. So, no, I don’t think I’ll do anything
weirder than that, although I’d love to blend someone into the Petronas Twin
Towers one day,” he grins.
Yap’s ultimate dream, however, is to attend the World Bodypainting Festival
held annually in Pörtschach, Austria where artists compete in different
categories including brush and sponge, airbrush and special effects.
Online news portal Gather claims the event “isn’t just a bunch of hippy
artists painting naked bodies”, it is “the largest and most important
competition of its kind in the world.”
Yap feels that one day, body painting in this region will catch on and then
“a lot more commercial works done in the region can be published.”
How long before that happens remains to be seen. After all, the art was dealt
another blow last year when Facebook took down several photographs related to
the Breast Cancer Awareness Body Painting Project, which featured photographs of
the painted breasts of 25 post-mastectomy breast cancer survivors, citing them
as “pornographic”.
The photographer cum artist, Michael Colanero, had only this to say: “I think
the human figure has been a subject since the first cave drawings. Are we still
not used to it? We are all humans with similar bodies. Let’s just get past that
and talk about what matters.”
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For more information on the next intake for body painting classes at
the Malaysian Expert Institute of Cosmetology, call 03-7727 6636 or e-mail: enquiry@malaysianexpert.edu.my
