Lilly McElroy
I throw myself at men. #12
The project is simple. I go to bars and approach men I don’t know. I ask if I can literally throw myself at them. Then I ask if I can take a picture of that moment. The men are picked based on their size; on the possibility that they can handle having 135 pounds come hurtling through the air. In other words, I pick men who I think can take a hit . The resulting pictures show me in mid-air with my arms stretched towards the person who might catch me. I am, at that moment, part projectile and part foolish romantic. These images are documents of a hopeful and violent gesture, a demand that the possibility of a connection exist. The men often look terrified or at least slightly surprised. My role as aggressor is clear and I think of my leaps as feminist acts that acknowledge a basic desire for contact.
To date, there have been no major injuries.
I was raised in small towns in the southwest where I spent a lot of time at rodeos. I won a few ribbons and once sold a sheep for a decent price. I was formally educated at The University of Arizona, The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, The Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, and the Fine Arts Work Center. The time spent at those institutions increased my unabashed interest in the cliché and the literal as well my often misguided attempts at making authentic connections. In a few months, I will be moving to Los Angeles and I am looking forward to making more artwork about sunsets, romance, and frustration.
Hi Lilly,
Thanks for posting! There are several artists on the site for whom aggression is an important vehicle for expressing themselves (Khadijah Queen; Alison Ward). I wonder if you could say a bit more about your identification of aggression as a feminist act, particularly as it embodies a desire for connection with another. I’m really intrigued by that!
Cheers,
s.
Hello Lilly,
I’m curious about if and how growing up in the Southwest affects the physicality of your performance. I grew up in West Texas myself, and I’ve been thirsty ever since!
This series, as well as your performances sleeping in public spaces, seems to reflect a desire for intimacy and a willingness to be vulnerable. In the bar, you’re a projectile flying through a compressed space. In the subway swamped with people, you appear to be floating.
Interesting. Please tell us more.
Cathy
Lilly,
I love these! I came across your website several months ago, so knew of your work. What is the range of the men’s reactions post-throw, and do you think your acts might affect their perceptions of intimacy and/or behavior towards women in the future?
Khadijah
Post throw, most men are baffled and entertained. Some of them have seemed slightly annoyed, but I don’t think I can claim to have changed many perceptions. However, the men who have visited my website in order to see their photographs have made some very interesting observations and comments. Most of the content of this project resides in the still images not the performance, so it would make sense that more introspection would happen when the men take a look at the photos.
Growing up in the southwest definitely shaped the way I approach art making and performing. There is so much machismo and drama. It is palpable and I find it simultaneously seductive and repulsive. Generally speaking though, I’m strongly interested in basic human needs. Vulnerability and the desire to connect are universal.
That said, after being so thoroughly surrounded by machismo and posturing, I feel that is important to acknowledge vulnerability. If done properly it can be it’s own display of strength.
Hi Lilly,
Your project is a wonderful example of taking matters into your own hands! I’m working on a curatorial project about modern romance, and would love to speak with you further about “I Throw Myself At Men.” Send me an email to a.decent.proposal.project@gmail.com if you’re interested!