Dustin Allor

This past summer we lost a most iconic and beloved member of the body piercing community. It is hard to imagine what the landscape of the piercing industry would look like without Fakir Musafar. He was part of the group who brought body piercing into mainstream western culture from underground society in the 1970s. Fakir inspired countless people to become piercers, taught the skill to approximately 2,000 attendees of his piercing workshop, moved many to try suspension and urged us to claim our bodies as our own, especially through body modification. He firmly believed that piercing was sacred, magical, and could be a special moment for all involved. His life was spent spreading that message and seeking the spirit through exploring and testing the limits of his body. This year’s Body Piercing Archive exhibit unfolded many of the lives, hobbies, jobs, and performances of the multifaceted Fakir Musafar.

Walking into the exhibit was overwhelming in the best sort of way. There was so much information—so many visuals—that it was hard to know where to look. Each time I went in, there were things I hadn’t noticed previously. It would have taken me a couple of focused hours to take in all the information. The outer walls were lined with banners. The inner walls had four alcoves with various displayed items. Several banners featured large photos of Fakir embodying his different personas. There were other banners that stood out to me: the timeline that shared childhood pictures, some of influential people in his life, covers of his BodyPlaymagazines, and collages of the group photos from nearly every class of the Fakir Intensives.

Then there were the alcoves. One held books and images that inspired and guided a young Fakir to try so many unconventional practices. A few items in particular caught my  eye: Fakir’s  yoga  book from the 1950s and National Geographic from Fakir’s childhood where he got the idea to perform his first piercing on himself at age 14. Another area had masks, homemade eyelets for stretching his nipple piercings, some of Fakir’s septum jewelry, and articles he had written. There was a section that had a bed of nails, a bed of blades, a kavadi frame, a suspension frame, and other inventions of Fakir’s that I’m not sure have names. Most of these devices were featured in Fakir’s early self photography. Having been born in a rural area in 1930, out of necessity he developed a resourceful and inventive ability. A large portion of the objects in the exhibit were things he made at home by hand. Rarely disposing of his creations, the BPA was able to acquire or borrow many of them from his wife, Cléo Dubois. It was fabulous to see classic Fakir photos right next to the actual items he made and was wearing in the portrait.

There was a screen toward the back of the exhibit playing the Mark and Dan Jury film Dances Sacred and Profane starring Fakir, Jim Ward, and Charles Gatewood. Mirroring that was a second screen dedicated to performances he had  done,  featuring video from one of his European performances. Between those was information on RE/Search #12: Modern Primitives, the publication where so many of us discovered Fakir for the first time.

The last alcove in the exhibit was the most solemn. The exhibit overall celebrated Fakir’s life, but the last alcove honored his death. Fakir felt that altars were important. He would make one at the end of every piercing class, a place to look to for focus, to display images and objects that had meaning to him and to help inspire a particular mindset he was looking for. The last alcove of the exhibit, with bright yellow and red walls, was an altar to Fakir. It displayed a large photo of him, photos of those close to him who had also passed, images of deities he was drawn to, fresh fragrant flowers, candles, and a few personal items like his chest spears. When he announced that he was sick and had limited time left, Fakir asked that instead of emails or phone calls, that people hand write and mail him letters if they had anything they wanted to share with him. Hundreds of letters came in and he read all the words of love and thanks before he left us. A selection of those cards were strung from the center back wall of the alcove, extending to either side of the door, framing the altar and giving the space a sense of depth, layers, and sentiment.

Fakir was so many people wrapped up in one. It was impossible to know everything and everyone he had been in his life. Depending on how you knew him, you would connect and learn about different aspects of his personality and interests, hearing different stories of his past. In addition to all the visuals in the exhibit, docents who were personally known to Fakir gave tours. Each had unique experiences and insight on who Fakir was, having known him in a variety of circles and points of his life. Several of the instructors from the Fakir Intensives gave tours, as well as friends of Fakir’s including Allen Falkner and Annie Sprinkle. Each offered unique flavors, new insight and things to learn about Fakir. Hearing their stories really brought Fakir’s memory to life in a vivid interactive way and I wish I could have seen all the tours.

Working closely with Fakir’s wife, Cléo, the BPA team put together an amazing and moving exhibit. Fakir was always touched and awed by the gratitude, credit, and honor people extended to him. I think he would be absolutely blown away and speechless by the beautiful display and celebration of his life that portrayed so much of who he was. To Paul King, Becky Dill, Devin Ruiz, and all your behind the scenes helpers, thank you for all your hard work in putting together such a rich and beautiful commemoration of Fakir’s life. It was wonderful to get to celebrate Fakir’s life together with the bulk of the piercing community this year at the APP Conference.