Whilst writing up these reports on Olivia’s vist to Australia over the last couple of weeks,
it brought back a lot of memories from when i met Yoko during her visit in 2000. My Best girlfriend (Frantique Rotalacta) and i were lucky enough to attend two events during her stay, Frantique takes up the story ..
Greetings my little avante garde decoupages. This is your on-the-spot reporter Frantique, reporting to you live from inside a black bag, goodness I feel like an unwanted kitten in here going for its first and last swimming lesson. Last week I had the distinct pleasure (as always) of finally meeting my role model, Yoko Ono.
The Yokster was here as a guest for the Bienalle (I think it’s pronounced “Bi-anal”) .. whatever, a kindly little vixen fixed me up with a couple of tickets to the press launch, and for the following night’s “Happening”, so with that sad little minx Greg Swan in toe, we hoofed it off to the press launch on Thursday the 25th of May 2000 at the “Museum of Contemporary Art”.
As ever, I waltzed in and took over as if I owned the place, and let’s face it, with all the taxes “ROTALACTA ENTERPRISES tm” pays I probably do!. We made our way upstairs to the press area to hustle a good posie so we could get some good photos. Greg looked an absolute tool wearing a trench coat and fedora hat, complete with a little bit of cardboard with the word “Press” written on it, which he had stuck in the brim of his hat looking all the world like a payless Clark Kent (but with the heart of Mr Mixpikalixx).
It wasn’t long before Yoko made her appearance, and floored this jaded old slapper with her perfect skin and complexion. I tell you the woman does not look a day over thirty five!! totally stunning. Yoko stood there with the other artists as the speeches were made, and smiled every now and then for the snapping hordes. She didn’t make a speech, but rather stood there for a good 25 minutes while the yapping went on. As soon as this was done Yoko was ushered into another gallery for a couple of quick TV interviews. Then us press and photographers were allowed in to get a couple of portrait shots.
Being accustomed more to being in front of the camera, I wasn’t prepared for the rudeness of these wankers and wenches that call themselves photographers, luckily I had a stern whisk with me and so I lashed out at their shins, garnering myself and Mr. Swan a place a little closer to the action. Soon enough, Yoko tired of all this pushing and shoving and done a runner.
Being a dedicated fan, I recognized the man standing alone at the back of all this hoo-ha as Sam Havadtoy, Yoko’s boyfriend of many years. Upholding my motto of all arse and no class, I went straight up to Sam and made myself known to him. He proved to be utterly charming, but soon had to leave and try to find Yoko, who had bolted through another door to do some more press interviews.
Before he left, I asked him if he would kindly give Yoko a copy of our fanzine (with Sean on the cover of course), He said that he would and then made a dignified exit.
We then made our way downstairs. It didn’t take that freebie sniffing Greg long to find the complimentary muffins, which he proceeded to woof down at a great rate of knots, then just to our left, we saw a man swirling around the room, smashing things, grasping his neck, choc chips hurtling out of his nostrils and finally projectile vomiting onto a plate glass window. At the conclusion of this wondrous scene, both Greg and I let out hearty “bravo’s!! .. more, more!!” only to later discover that this wasn’t a piece of performance art as we had thought, but rather a poor unfortunate man, who had a bit of complimentary muffin go down the wrong way .. goodness me but you get that.
After that little display, we decided to leave the gallery as soon as possible. Outside, that celebrity spotting Greg soon sussed out Yoko’s car, and we both decided to wait to see her leave. Soon enough, we saw her and Sam walk out, they looked at the car and indicated to the driver that they were going to walk into the city, so straight away we thought “nothing ventured, nothing gained” – so we followed them a short distance until they stopped at a pedestrian crossing.
I didn’t want to follow them all around like some of those creepy freaks do to celebrities, so I sidled up to Yoko and said, “Hi, Yoko, could I please have your autograph?” Sam looked at me and then at Yoko and said, “Yoko, this is Frantique and Greg, they gave us the ‘Across the Universe’ fanzine inside.”
I can only judge people how I find them, and Yoko was nothing less than totally kind, friendly and accommodating to us fans. We had a little chat, then I asked if I could take a photo of Greg and I with her. Yoko said, “Sure, why not!” With that, we snapped a few piccies (both getting a pic with her) and thanked her. We then let them go their merry way, tho it was somewhat sad to see them followed up the street by some dollar-driven Paparazzi.
The following night (Friday), I was lucky enough to snag a ticket to Yoko’s “Happening” at the Opera House in Sydney. It was held in the small space known as “The Studio” and I felt right at home at this event .. it was bizarre, but amazing.
As soon as the doors opened, I bolted in so I could sit front row center. The event was also being broadcast on the net which made it that little more special. I turned up wearing my best lime green Osti frock, paisley crochet shawl, gold open toe court heels and a lame’ clutch purse. I was hoping to be digitally broadcast around the world, as I did my best Sharon Stone moves trying to lure the attention of the cameramen. It really was one of those “you just had to be there events.” I could try to explain, but it would be futile.
Yoko came out and using a chair as a prop started a discussion on “comfort zones.” Those of us in the audience with our heads out of our arses understood Yoko was talking in metaphors, but the hoi poloi wanker art crowd, who formed the majority of the smallish audience just didn’t get it. It’s sooooo sad that people don’t understand the amazing humor in Yoko’s work. One nitwit even yelled out “Claptrap”.
It was really fab for this old performance artist (readers who have attended one of my regular shaving or body fat exchange events knows just what an artist “I” am) to be part of a Yoko “Happening”, as she performed the classic “String Piece” as well as “Smash a Vase Piece.” The best part for me was the question and answer segment where, as I said, the people who “got it” asked fun and appropriate questions, whilst the north shore “Lovee” crowd were looking for Yoko to give straight “literal” answers.
It’s such a disappointment that more Yoko fans weren’t allowed into this event, as it was dominated by the “rich art” crowd. At the end, after Yoko smashed a beautiful, large and expensive-looking vase, and the crowd had finished wrapping itself in wool (to create a sense of togetherness), we were invited by Yoko to come and collect a piece of the smashed vase, and we all promised to meet again in ten years time to reassemble it. With that, Yoko was gone into the dark.
All in all, it was a fantastic, and very funny evening in every sense of the word, This is Frantique Rotalacta signing off from all things arty and farty .. well more farty than arty actually. Until next time when I ruffle the sheets of life, I bid you a fond adieu.
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