By Hillel Aron
By Joseph Tsidulko
By Patrick Range McDonald
By David Futch
By Hillel Aron
By Dennis Romero
By Jill Stewart
By Dennis Romero
The response was undoubtedly manna for Woodard, who has struggled to get attention for previous memorials, including the Angels Flight ceremony, and whose main claim to fame is an essay on the properties of a feline spaying anesthetic that was included in Adam Parfrey’s latest book. (Feral House Publishing head Parfrey, another transgressophile and a pal of Woodard’s, made his reputation dabbling in the major strains of alt.culture, including serial-killer fandom and retard bashing.)
Woodard and 43 volunteer musicians from the University of Indiana will perform at an all-night vigil at St. Margaret Mary Church, three miles from the prison, according to McVeigh’s spiritual advisor, the Reverend Ron Ashmore. Woodard’s piece, Ave Atque Vale, was originally composed for Kevorkian, then renamed in McVeigh’s honor, Woodard said. The title usually translates as “Hail and Farewell,” but Woodard says it means “Onward Valiant Soldier.” McVeigh will listen over a University of Indiana radio station, Ashmore said.
“We will be in prayer about Tim, who is coming to his death at the government’s decision. But we will also commemorate the tragedy of 168 people being killed by a violent act,” Father Ashmore said in a phone interview.
“If he wants to do it, fine, but it’s certainly no comfort to anyone who was affected by the bombing,” Paul Heath, treasurer of the OK City Murrah Building Survivors Association, said of Woodard’s planned performance.
But Woodard said the execution and the performance will make a point.
“Obviously [McVeigh] wants to exaggerate the media coverage of the execution as a way of making it manifestly clear, after the fact, what a vile universal bloodthirst people have,” Woodard said.
Person for the Artistic Treatment of Animals
Searching for that perfect taxidermed- antelope ice tray ($4,000), stuffed-sheep laundry basket ($6,000) or preserved chamois ($2,500) for Mom on Mother’s Day? Rest easy. Down in Chinatown, L.A. artist Carlee Fernandez has stocked the Acuña-Hansen Gallery with enough stuffed animal products to spin the heads of an entire PETA chapter. “I don’t do my own pets,” protests the 27-year-old artist, who recycles animals from local taxidermy shops.
At the packed opening of the Acuña-Hansen show, one woman expressed her disgust. “I’m giving them a second use,” Fernandez responded. But she also admits happily, “I’m not being P.C.”
Born in Santa Ana into a house filled with animals — “living and taxidermed” — the pixiesque Fernandez was raised by a father who loved horror films and a mother who loved pranks. “My mom took this pig’s head once and put it in a stroller and took it over to the neighbors,” she cheerily recalls.
As an art student at Cal State Fullerton, Fernandez discovered the local taxidermy shop, Bob’s Taxidermy. Graduate school in Claremont brought the launch of her seven-piece animal-head luggage line, Carnage, whose offerings included a buffalo-head suitcase ($9,000), rabbit-head waist pack ($2,000) and boar-head purse ($4,000). At the first Carnage show, a PETA raid was rumored but failed to materialize.
“I do have some of the vegetarian/vegans who are against it,” including her own sister Veronica, Fernandez says. “Every once in a while she says, ‘You could use fake fur.’ But, then I catch her trying the purses on.”
Fernandez lives and works in the downtown Brewery artist colony, where she coexists with her buffalo-head suitcase — sawed in half, lined and tagged. At the Acuña-Hansen, she is venturing into a new realm, household products. “We’re so removed from nature, this brings it back,” she explains. The line is called “Friends” because, Fernandez says, “I have all these different animals together that you would never see together out in nature.” The little antelope curled on the cement floor with a fur-covered ice tray mounted on its back is called Courtney Payne, after one of Fernandez’s real friends.
But could someone actually unplug a toilet with the miniature chamois? “No,” Fernandez says. “It’s fine art. It’s only supposed to suggest function.”
Functional or not, Fernandez’s art is hot. Her tongue-in-cheek video-sculpture Peter is on view as part of the Laguna Art Museum’s “Cyborg Manifesto” show. Peter features a jackrabbit’s head with a peephole in the forehead where viewers can watch a three-minute minivideo simulation of the animal’s life and chain-saw death. Art in America critic Michael Duncan dropped by the Acuña-Hansen. “I guess I’ll have to write about this,” he was overheard saying.