On Tuesday night, Alex and I met up after work at Participant, Inc. gallery, where Kembra Pfahler was hosting a tea party, per an X-rated invitation that had landed in our inboxes. As expected from Kembra, this was no dainty affair of scones and crumpets––though there were chocolate donuts on hand. Joined by her bandmates of the performance act that she leads, the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black, Kembra put on a show that ranged from the shocking ("costumes" here meant nothing but red body paint, glitter, and a hair ribbon; gargantuan phalluses served as stage props) to the hilarious (her grimaces as she struggled to emerge from a trash can––in over-the-knee lace-up boots––certainly had the crowd laughing. As did her tangential lyrics about her favorite scene in Blade Runner and other miscellany). I caught up with Kembra after the show to find out more about the Alice in Wonderland-meets-gothic pin-up experience.
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Sofia Cavallo: What and where is Fuck Island, the name of this show?
Kembra Pfahler: It is the name of my new Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black album and its title track. The art exhibit was essentially a song––I like the idea of having an art exhibit about a song. The members of the band are sometimes changing, so the sound has changed a bit. We have Samoa back in the band, the artist and founding member of Karen Black. We also have Gyda Gash and Michael Wildwood, who plays the drums. The sound is more minimal, primitive, and celebratory. We propose in this album a world of future-feminism, where alpha males and male sky gods no longer make all the rules. We suggest that men release their sense of entitlement simply because they have a cock, even though I know that many of the men in our community aren't like that. The album is basically a mid-career survey that nobody asked me to do. And it's all about cock.
SC: Were some of the songs you performed improvised?
KP: I don't care about theater or being a good entertainer. I don't like acting. And when people say to me, "Oh are you going to perform?" it sounds so stupid. It's why I left Los Angeles. I feel like saying, "You mean perform like a seal that throws a ball in the air and barks?" This work isn't about that at all. Doing this music and art is the only fun we have, which is why we like to share it. The Bladerunner song that I do standing on bowling balls, I sing it to the Luther Vandross music. I stopped doing it a while ago, when I saw other people freestyling to movie soundtrack music. But I was in the mood to do it, so I did it. I thought it would look cool with the big cock in the background. The song "Ghosthole" is about friends that I've watched die, far too many to even fathom. When I got inside the garbage oil can to sing it, it felt so weird and I forgot all of the words. So no, it wasn't improvised, but because I don't like rehearsing it may have seemed like it.
SC: What's the idea behind the tea component in the exhibition?
KP: I thought it would be good to make a toaster penis sculpture. I don't like comedy necessarily but the penis toaster sort of cracks us up. I don't laugh very much and I am usually very austere, anhedoniac, and angry, so this came out of nowhere but it came out nonetheless. I have been doing ceramics at Color Me Mine in Tribeca, painting plates and tea sets. One day I found a kid's table set and chairs on the street, and in the spirit of availablism, I paper-mâchéd it and included it in the show. Sometimes a show ends up telling you what it wants to be and look like. I
_______________________________________________
Sofia Cavallo: What and where is Fuck Island, the name of this show?
Kembra Pfahler: It is the name of my new Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black album and its title track. The art exhibit was essentially a song––I like the idea of having an art exhibit about a song. The members of the band are sometimes changing, so the sound has changed a bit. We have Samoa back in the band, the artist and founding member of Karen Black. We also have Gyda Gash and Michael Wildwood, who plays the drums. The sound is more minimal, primitive, and celebratory. We propose in this album a world of future-feminism, where alpha males and male sky gods no longer make all the rules. We suggest that men release their sense of entitlement simply because they have a cock, even though I know that many of the men in our community aren't like that. The album is basically a mid-career survey that nobody asked me to do. And it's all about cock.
SC: Were some of the songs you performed improvised?
KP: I don't care about theater or being a good entertainer. I don't like acting. And when people say to me, "Oh are you going to perform?" it sounds so stupid. It's why I left Los Angeles. I feel like saying, "You mean perform like a seal that throws a ball in the air and barks?" This work isn't about that at all. Doing this music and art is the only fun we have, which is why we like to share it. The Bladerunner song that I do standing on bowling balls, I sing it to the Luther Vandross music. I stopped doing it a while ago, when I saw other people freestyling to movie soundtrack music. But I was in the mood to do it, so I did it. I thought it would look cool with the big cock in the background. The song "Ghosthole" is about friends that I've watched die, far too many to even fathom. When I got inside the garbage oil can to sing it, it felt so weird and I forgot all of the words. So no, it wasn't improvised, but because I don't like rehearsing it may have seemed like it.
SC: What's the idea behind the tea component in the exhibition?
KP: I thought it would be good to make a toaster penis sculpture. I don't like comedy necessarily but the penis toaster sort of cracks us up. I don't laugh very much and I am usually very austere, anhedoniac, and angry, so this came out of nowhere but it came out nonetheless. I have been doing ceramics at Color Me Mine in Tribeca, painting plates and tea sets. One day I found a kid's table set and chairs on the street, and in the spirit of availablism, I paper-mâchéd it and included it in the show. Sometimes a show ends up telling you what it wants to be and look like. I