There are as many performance artists as there are performance artist categories. Many varying agendas and psychosocial, psychosexual viewpoints. Yet Ms. Wendy City, premier amongst all, is as unique in her choice and spin of subject matter as she is in her pedal to the metal approach and frequent departure. Some vehemently oppose productions such as hers and charge they are not "art" at all. But then, so is the ineffable flexible beauty of that which society calls art. An enchanted but truly unforgiving domain where today's art sensation, is tomorrow's art defenestration. Where yesterday's art of safe passage is today's art of stay in and lock the doors. What type of artist or otherwise she is, remains to the subjective viewer's capricious perspective. Let it here be told that her art is wild romping stomping screaming tearing shouting baring all beauty and repulsion in one none too neat package. A setting where anything is not only possible, but happens with bone shaking unnerving regularity, keeping definitions like "regular" decidedly at extreme distance. So what will you think of this artist extraordinaire who has set the stage on fire figuratively the world over, and when she is not setting the stage afire figuratively, may very well be commanding a raging inferno right before the horrified eyes of the shell shocked spectators?
She is not everyone's cup of tea, this much is undeniably true. The best caution to be given is this: see her in action if you dare.
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