Individuality has often been the focus of my thoughts pertaining to style and fashion. Perhaps it’s because I have a medium build, with medium brown hair, that I sometimes try to use clothing to stand out or make a statement. But a couple of weeks ago I participated in someone else’s statement—an art event, by taking off my clothes.

Photographer Spencer Tunick is becoming more and more well-known for his “naked city” portraits, which are extremely large-scale group nudes. I participated in one a few years ago in New York City, with perhaps another couple hundred people at 4am on a Saturday morning in an alley in Chinatown. This was back in 2002; I had heard of Spencer Tunick in 1999 but didn’t have the nerve to join in with friends. It wasn’t risk-free: in New York City (and most places in the U.S.) it’s illegal to be nude in public. For some reason in those days, local politicians weren’t on the side of nude art, so many of Tunick’s large group photo shoots were done on the down-low, to avoid arrest of the photographer or the participants. When I finally determined I wanted to take part in one of these art works, I went by myself and didn’t talk to many people there. I was a bit afraid of being hit on by creepy guys who’d had too much to drink. I didn’t need to worry about that; however, a month or so later there was a gathering to distribute prints of the photograph, autographed by the artist in return for participation. It was at this gathering that I met my current husband, Leigh, who was carefully inspecting his print. “Did you find yourself?” I asked him.

Fast forward five years later: Leigh and I now are happily married living in Amsterdam, and Spencer Tunick has become something of an international art celebrity. Earlier this year in Mexico City he attracted 18,000 people to pose nude. In Amsterdam he received a commission from the Dream Amsterdam Foundation complete with corporate sponsorship and heavy press coverage. For this commission he did a series of photographs located in rural blooming tulip fields, as well as in central Amsterdam. When Leigh and I heard about the Amsterdam shoot, we figured it was a no-brainer—a nice commemoration of our five-year relationship and 1-year marriage anniversary. We signed up by email and received instructions and directions. We were to show up at the Q-park parking lot at 3:30am on a Sunday morning. For us, this meant staying up all night. Our friends Aminah and Davy kept us company over drinks at a café and then dancing at a nearby club, Korsakoff.

3:30 came pretty quickly and we made our way around the corner to the Q-park where it seemed most people were already assembled. It was difficult to assess just how many people were spread out on one of the floors of the parking garage—I later heard nearly 2000 people. Most were sitting in groups chatting, some were reading, and I saw several single women who appeared to give off that same “don’t approach me” vibe that I had felt 5 years ago. The waiting was really boring, but after perhaps an hour, one of Spencer Tunick’s assistants gathered everyone around. Tunick himself addressed the crowd in English and explained the different shoots he wanted to do. One set-up would be with everyone, one would be with men only, one with women only, and a final one would be with a very small number of selected women.

Around 5AM we were herded by a gang of assistants to the outer circular ramps of the car park and it seemed somehow strange that it was already light outside. Shortly after that we received instructions from Tunick from across the canal, via bullhorn, that we should remove our clothes and get into position. At first this was a bit thrilling, finally something happens after all that waiting. However, tedium quickly set in. One must hold the position while the photographer shouts terse instructions—“3rd floor! Move in closer!” or something like this. Although the situation was absurd—standing on folding chairs, naked, and most people too tall to stand straight without bending their necks or knees (Dutch are among the tallest in the world)—there could be no giggling or smiling. It was shivering cold too. This time I felt more comfortable chatting with strangers and discovered that some people had traveled from various places around Europe to participate. Listening to the accents though, the vast majority was Dutch.

The photo shoot lasted hours, unlike my earlier experience in New York, which was done in minutes in order to avoid police confrontation. As the city gradually awakened, we attracted more and more attention from by-standers, renegade and press photographers, and honking bus and tram drivers. For me, the best moment was after the set-up in which the women posed with their bikes across a bridge on the Lauriergracht. Many women left their clothes on the sidewalk, and then afterwards rode back down the hill a half block or so to retrieve their things. You could see the total glee in their faces, having the freedom of cycling unclothed, even for just a minute. Looking around, I decided that with all clothing removed we are more alike than different. Most of us were pink-ish toned but of course there were other skin tones, body sizes, tattoos, and piercings. I reckon the only way for a caucasian to really stand out in a Tunick photo is to have a huge mane of dreadlocks piled high on your head. However, I get the impression that Tunick doesn’t want anyone to stand out. While riding my bike home around 8am in full daylight I reflected on the experience. As a participant, I did feel somewhat like a subject in a dictatorship. It’s not a collaborative project; we were there to do his bidding. I was happy to go along for the sake of art and Tunick’s vision, but I’m certainly glad in daily life to be able to express myself as I choose, paying no attention to “fashion dictators” either. –Jill Woodward

Spencer Tunick’s Dream Amsterdam series will be unveiled Saturday June 23, 2007 at 17:00 on the Leliegracht and Nassaukade, at the photo shoot locations. According the press release, this is the first time that Tunick’s large-scale prints will be displayed where they were created.