On Friday evening a band of Bushwick artists wearing nothing but underwear and leotards gathered in front of the Lincoln Center in Manhattan and for three hours unfurled a guerilla-style conceptual-dance that gathered crowds and polarized even hardened New Yorkers
The moment every inch of pinchable skin on Jeffrey Freer's naked body had gotten clipped with a clothespin and he stood on stage screaming in delight and pain, spraying his crotch with red Silly String, I knew my past-bedtime sojourn to Bizarre Bar on Wednesday night was not in vain
