Burning Man: The World's Most Dangerous Art Festival
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by Christopher J. Dyer
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(The following article is "reprinted" here in its entirety, word for word, comma for comma, as it was originally published in the Greeley Mirror September 18, 1998 Volume 81 Number 18.)
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"In Genesis, God wreaks massive destruction upon the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah for exactly the kind of behavior that transpires here."
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(Part One.) HACKSAWING AN 8-BALL: PREPARATIONS FOR IMPENDING DOOM
Sitting in the North Colorado Emergency room waiting area, I thought about the warning I had been given: "You Voluntarily Assume the Risk of Serious Injury or Death by Attending." I wasn't even there and Burning Man had done me wrong. While the rather abrupt words of caution imprinted on the ticket referred to the idea of proper desert survival tactics, this injury was somewhat related.
Valerie Wolny and I were fashioning a bra out of fortune-telling toy 8-balls. The pocket hacksaw I was using to cut them apart started to misbehave and attacked my thumb, leaving a deep gash. A six-stitch patch up job later, and I began to question the absurdity of this event. What the hell was Burning Man? I had certainly heard a number of conflicting reports. My friend Burke in Spokane proclaimed that the event involved some sort of anti-government faction of militant pyrotechnic freaks who met every year to discuss overthrowing the president and to preview the latest in high-tech explosive devices. Another friend assured me that it was a weeklong massive orgy and porn industry gathering of degenerates, hardcore sex fiends. Either way, I had to go. Along with Valerie Wolny, the Mirror's most ferocious photographer, we were going to find out what actually transpires at Burning Man, which has become known as "the world's most dangerous art festival."
Sitting in the North Colorado Emergency room waiting area, I thought about the warning I had been given: "You Voluntarily Assume the Risk of Serious Injury or Death by Attending." I wasn't even there and Burning Man had done me wrong. While the rather abrupt words of caution imprinted on the ticket referred to the idea of proper desert survival tactics, this injury was somewhat related.
Valerie Wolny and I were fashioning a bra out of fortune-telling toy 8-balls. The pocket hacksaw I was using to cut them apart started to misbehave and attacked my thumb, leaving a deep gash. A six-stitch patch up job later, and I began to question the absurdity of this event. What the hell was Burning Man? I had certainly heard a number of conflicting reports. My friend Burke in Spokane proclaimed that the event involved some sort of anti-government faction of militant pyrotechnic freaks who met every year to discuss overthrowing the president and to preview the latest in high-tech explosive devices. Another friend assured me that it was a weeklong massive orgy and porn industry gathering of degenerates, hardcore sex fiends. Either way, I had to go. Along with Valerie Wolny, the Mirror's most ferocious photographer, we were going to find out what actually transpires at Burning Man, which has become known as "the world's most dangerous art festival."
(Part Two) ALARM CLOCKS, PANCAKES, AND ABSURDITY
I am sitting with Valerie in the middle of the desert at 3 a.m. discussing breakfast tactics. In Black Rock City, home of Burning Man, cash is only used for ice and drugs. For everything else, a barter system is in place. We have a pop-up alarm clock that we are certain we will be able to exchange to feed our whole group at the BEHOP (Barter Exchange Hut O' Pancakes). Our companion, Brian Calvert, weary from a day of mental and physical abuse, interrupts us. "This is the most goddamn absurd thing I've ever heard-you're in the middle of the desert talking about how you're going to trade an alarm clock for pancakes!" He was right, and at that point it hit me. There would be no way to describe Burning Man in any coherent manner. This place was the antithesis of everything our society is built on. There is no monetary system, no social standards of conduct, no government, and absolutely no inhibitions. The result is complete and utter madness.
The festival is the ground zero of insanity located in the middle of nothing. The area is a savage, desolate environment that suffers temperatures around 115 degrees during the day and 30 degrees at night. Here in the midst of some of America's most seemingly forsaken territory, they chose to build Black Rock City. The idea of Burning Man is to bring together a diverse group of people in the middle of nowhere and form a community based on freedom and creative expression. Surprisingly enough, this idea of community works. One of the few rules at the festival is, "leave no trace." There is no littering but at the same time, no public trash containers. You are responsible for everything you bring. Considering that a large majority of the populace is bent on drugs and alcohol a great majority of the time, this seems an unlikely request. However, people do comply and clean up after themselves. This is at times both remarkable and humorous. (Imagine someone crazed on hallucinogenics trying to chase a gum wrapper across the desert in the wind.) The end result is a complex and idealistic city for the artistically minded.
From an aerial view, the city resembles one of the crop circle formations that are often shown in the tabloids as proof of alien spaceship landings. The camps are laid out in an enormous semi-circle that is sectioned into a north (noisy) and a south (quiet) side. A large road protruding from the center focal point of the camp leads to the Man. The Man is a towering, 50-foot stick-figure built from wood, steel, and neon. On the last day of the festival, this structure is set on fire in a cathartic, almost pagan-like ceremony. In fact, most of the artistic structures are hauled out to this area and burned. Which is, after all, rather the idea of the festival. To construct this massive and intricate city and then completely take it apart and vanish leaving no trace, almost as if the entire event never happened.
I am sitting with Valerie in the middle of the desert at 3 a.m. discussing breakfast tactics. In Black Rock City, home of Burning Man, cash is only used for ice and drugs. For everything else, a barter system is in place. We have a pop-up alarm clock that we are certain we will be able to exchange to feed our whole group at the BEHOP (Barter Exchange Hut O' Pancakes). Our companion, Brian Calvert, weary from a day of mental and physical abuse, interrupts us. "This is the most goddamn absurd thing I've ever heard-you're in the middle of the desert talking about how you're going to trade an alarm clock for pancakes!" He was right, and at that point it hit me. There would be no way to describe Burning Man in any coherent manner. This place was the antithesis of everything our society is built on. There is no monetary system, no social standards of conduct, no government, and absolutely no inhibitions. The result is complete and utter madness.
The festival is the ground zero of insanity located in the middle of nothing. The area is a savage, desolate environment that suffers temperatures around 115 degrees during the day and 30 degrees at night. Here in the midst of some of America's most seemingly forsaken territory, they chose to build Black Rock City. The idea of Burning Man is to bring together a diverse group of people in the middle of nowhere and form a community based on freedom and creative expression. Surprisingly enough, this idea of community works. One of the few rules at the festival is, "leave no trace." There is no littering but at the same time, no public trash containers. You are responsible for everything you bring. Considering that a large majority of the populace is bent on drugs and alcohol a great majority of the time, this seems an unlikely request. However, people do comply and clean up after themselves. This is at times both remarkable and humorous. (Imagine someone crazed on hallucinogenics trying to chase a gum wrapper across the desert in the wind.) The end result is a complex and idealistic city for the artistically minded.
From an aerial view, the city resembles one of the crop circle formations that are often shown in the tabloids as proof of alien spaceship landings. The camps are laid out in an enormous semi-circle that is sectioned into a north (noisy) and a south (quiet) side. A large road protruding from the center focal point of the camp leads to the Man. The Man is a towering, 50-foot stick-figure built from wood, steel, and neon. On the last day of the festival, this structure is set on fire in a cathartic, almost pagan-like ceremony. In fact, most of the artistic structures are hauled out to this area and burned. Which is, after all, rather the idea of the festival. To construct this massive and intricate city and then completely take it apart and vanish leaving no trace, almost as if the entire event never happened.
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(Part Three.) STRAP-ONS AND DRAGON HEADS
Nothing makes sense here. At the same time, it all makes perfect sense. The dress code is a Halloween parade in hell. Women in butterfly wings and leather thongs wearing strap-ons, men in mini dresses and papier-mâché dragon heads. Then, of course, there is the option of not wearing anything at all. This option is a popular one. Nudity at Burning Man is rampant and is accepted as a completely normal event. The time it takes to become acclimated to this environment is remarkably slight. By the second day, Valerie was experimenting with various stages of undress, and I had fashioned a make-shift skirt out of an American flag. The occurrences here invoke a nagging resemblance to Old Testament debauchery. In Genesis, God wreaks massive destruction upon the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah for exactly the kind of behavior that transpires here.
Nothing makes sense here. At the same time, it all makes perfect sense. The dress code is a Halloween parade in hell. Women in butterfly wings and leather thongs wearing strap-ons, men in mini dresses and papier-mâché dragon heads. Then, of course, there is the option of not wearing anything at all. This option is a popular one. Nudity at Burning Man is rampant and is accepted as a completely normal event. The time it takes to become acclimated to this environment is remarkably slight. By the second day, Valerie was experimenting with various stages of undress, and I had fashioned a make-shift skirt out of an American flag. The occurrences here invoke a nagging resemblance to Old Testament debauchery. In Genesis, God wreaks massive destruction upon the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah for exactly the kind of behavior that transpires here.
(Part Four.) CIVILIZATION AT GROUND ZERO: 24-HOUR DRINKS AND MOUSETRAPS
We arrived at night and for miles we could see the glowing hum of the city on the horizon, like a Vegas strip of neon and noise - all powered by either solar panels or gas generators. In the most general sense of the word, Black Rock City is an actual civilized metropolis. The community is sectioned off into semi-paved streets; there are 14 radio stations, two daily newspapers, a number of bars, daily deliveries of ice and water, and a post office. There are great differences, however, even in these familiar marks of society. One radio station's "public service" announcements consisted of, "those looking to sell acid or those looking for acid, meet under the pretty lights." The main newspaper, Black Rock Gazette, features articles such as a "Survival guide to sex at Burning Man." The other newspaper billed as Black Rock City's only alternative newspaper" was called Piss Clear (a reference to the way in which you know if you are drinking enough water or not). Piss Clear featured articles such as the "Drug Guide for the Playa" and The Space Cowgirls' 10 steps to beauty and hygiene on the playa" (step 1: Wake up and open up a refreshing drink, step 2: Bat eyelashes). Most bars remain open until sunrise. The post office doesn't operate in the traditional sense of a delivery system operation, but rather issues envelopes with "official" Burning Man stamps. Perhaps a true testament to the often parodied idea of the psychotic postal worker, inside each envelope was a set mouse trap.
We arrived at night and for miles we could see the glowing hum of the city on the horizon, like a Vegas strip of neon and noise - all powered by either solar panels or gas generators. In the most general sense of the word, Black Rock City is an actual civilized metropolis. The community is sectioned off into semi-paved streets; there are 14 radio stations, two daily newspapers, a number of bars, daily deliveries of ice and water, and a post office. There are great differences, however, even in these familiar marks of society. One radio station's "public service" announcements consisted of, "those looking to sell acid or those looking for acid, meet under the pretty lights." The main newspaper, Black Rock Gazette, features articles such as a "Survival guide to sex at Burning Man." The other newspaper billed as Black Rock City's only alternative newspaper" was called Piss Clear (a reference to the way in which you know if you are drinking enough water or not). Piss Clear featured articles such as the "Drug Guide for the Playa" and The Space Cowgirls' 10 steps to beauty and hygiene on the playa" (step 1: Wake up and open up a refreshing drink, step 2: Bat eyelashes). Most bars remain open until sunrise. The post office doesn't operate in the traditional sense of a delivery system operation, but rather issues envelopes with "official" Burning Man stamps. Perhaps a true testament to the often parodied idea of the psychotic postal worker, inside each envelope was a set mouse trap.
(Part Five.) GROUP SEX AND GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICHES
Most of the bizarre behavior at Burning Man lurks in the theme camps, which are central to the festival. Theme camps are road-side attractions of sorts, carnival booths in the circus of the damned. Some are less shocking than others. The Starlust Lounge, where Valerie and I spent a great deal of time drinking the afternoons away, was for the most part a typical bar. There was of course the bartering system in effect, which at times unearthed the insanity of Burning Man. In exchange for drinks, women would trade in their panties or men would subject themselves to being spanked by female bar patrons. The Costco Soulmate Outlet was another camp somewhat free of complete and total lunacy. Their operation would find your ideal soul mate amongst the various members of the Black Rock community based on a brief questionnaire. Sample questions included, "Why did you do it?," "What the hell is wrong with you?," and "Wanna get naked, trip acid, and roll around in the mud?" Invariably, there were the theme camps of the more unusual nature. Perhaps one of the most notable in this category was Bianca's Smut Shack. Bianca's was a large carpeted Arabic tent structure that housed around 60 couches and a policy that encouraged public acts of group sex. The establishment also included a bar area that served grilled cheese sandwiches. How the two related, I have yet to understand. Somehow, like everything else, it came to make perfect sense in the rather abstract air of thought that Burning Man is steeped in. The Alien Abduction Camp was another that could be considered one of the rather obscure attractions. The idea behind this camp was to emulate the experience of an alien abduction, probing included. The effect worked. I spoke with several people who had haphazardly wondered into this camp wired on psilocybin mushrooms and walked away with a limp and a twisted look in their eyes.
Most of the bizarre behavior at Burning Man lurks in the theme camps, which are central to the festival. Theme camps are road-side attractions of sorts, carnival booths in the circus of the damned. Some are less shocking than others. The Starlust Lounge, where Valerie and I spent a great deal of time drinking the afternoons away, was for the most part a typical bar. There was of course the bartering system in effect, which at times unearthed the insanity of Burning Man. In exchange for drinks, women would trade in their panties or men would subject themselves to being spanked by female bar patrons. The Costco Soulmate Outlet was another camp somewhat free of complete and total lunacy. Their operation would find your ideal soul mate amongst the various members of the Black Rock community based on a brief questionnaire. Sample questions included, "Why did you do it?," "What the hell is wrong with you?," and "Wanna get naked, trip acid, and roll around in the mud?" Invariably, there were the theme camps of the more unusual nature. Perhaps one of the most notable in this category was Bianca's Smut Shack. Bianca's was a large carpeted Arabic tent structure that housed around 60 couches and a policy that encouraged public acts of group sex. The establishment also included a bar area that served grilled cheese sandwiches. How the two related, I have yet to understand. Somehow, like everything else, it came to make perfect sense in the rather abstract air of thought that Burning Man is steeped in. The Alien Abduction Camp was another that could be considered one of the rather obscure attractions. The idea behind this camp was to emulate the experience of an alien abduction, probing included. The effect worked. I spoke with several people who had haphazardly wondered into this camp wired on psilocybin mushrooms and walked away with a limp and a twisted look in their eyes.
(Part Six.) I AM NOT LYING, DAMN YOU, THERE REALLY WAS A SHARK CAR CHASING US.
I realize how impossible all of this must sound. At one point during the festival, Brian Calvert was giving Valerie and I directions to an establishment that was serving a free breakfast of eggs and fresh fruit. His directions: "Walk to the end of the street and turn right at the giant glowing dildo statue then go two blocks and look for the guy with the green beard." While these may sound like very specific directions, they were not specific enough. There were many giant dildo statues and hoards of men in green beards. This is the problem of trying to explain the Burning Man festival. As I peruse through my pile of tapes and notes, I am beginning to realize all of this is going to sound completely absurd. I am running out of space and I have yet to explain how, while drinking on a mobile lounge, the bar engaged in a high-speed chase with a vehicle altered into a giant metallic shark. Or how at any one time, you could find at least six raves going on, each complete with a laser show. Or about The One Tree, a copper structure that shot both water and fire from it's branches. Or about the G-spot class Valerie attended at the Black Rock City College which included live models demonstrating techniques. Or the galloping green neon horse bike. Or Deadly Dante's Sin-O-Plex and Family Funstop. Or the giant Tesla coil that generated and shot lightning bolts into the ground. Or the 50-mph dust storm and subsequent rain which destroyed our camp. Or Mama Lilith's Bitchin' Falafel Kitchen. Or the Critical Tit Bike Ride. Or members of the gothic camp who dug their own seven-foot graves outside of their tents. Or the see-through skirt Valerie made using photos, string, and duct tape. Hell, none of this makes sense anyway. As someone crazed on acid told me one night in a blurred Dennis Hopper tone, "Maybe none of this happened anyway."
I realize how impossible all of this must sound. At one point during the festival, Brian Calvert was giving Valerie and I directions to an establishment that was serving a free breakfast of eggs and fresh fruit. His directions: "Walk to the end of the street and turn right at the giant glowing dildo statue then go two blocks and look for the guy with the green beard." While these may sound like very specific directions, they were not specific enough. There were many giant dildo statues and hoards of men in green beards. This is the problem of trying to explain the Burning Man festival. As I peruse through my pile of tapes and notes, I am beginning to realize all of this is going to sound completely absurd. I am running out of space and I have yet to explain how, while drinking on a mobile lounge, the bar engaged in a high-speed chase with a vehicle altered into a giant metallic shark. Or how at any one time, you could find at least six raves going on, each complete with a laser show. Or about The One Tree, a copper structure that shot both water and fire from it's branches. Or about the G-spot class Valerie attended at the Black Rock City College which included live models demonstrating techniques. Or the galloping green neon horse bike. Or Deadly Dante's Sin-O-Plex and Family Funstop. Or the giant Tesla coil that generated and shot lightning bolts into the ground. Or the 50-mph dust storm and subsequent rain which destroyed our camp. Or Mama Lilith's Bitchin' Falafel Kitchen. Or the Critical Tit Bike Ride. Or members of the gothic camp who dug their own seven-foot graves outside of their tents. Or the see-through skirt Valerie made using photos, string, and duct tape. Hell, none of this makes sense anyway. As someone crazed on acid told me one night in a blurred Dennis Hopper tone, "Maybe none of this happened anyway."
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(Part Seven.) THE SUNSHINE PUSSY HUT AND THE NEW AMERICAN SOCIETY
I probably have only served to further blur the understanding of what transpires in Black Rock City. It is an impossible story. There is no way to describe it. The closest I can come to explaining the environment stems from The Sunshine Pussy Hut. To me, this booth captured the essence of the Burning Man festival. The structure was a small lit room covered with pillows. The various shelves held vibrators, condoms, surgical gloves, lubricants, and pornographic magazines. The vibrators and lights were powered by solar panels. The hut, designed to be a shelter for women to explore self-enjoyment, was completely twisted. Yet at the same time, there was an element of liberation to it. On the back door was a mirror with the words "You Are The Most Beautiful Woman In The World"
I probably have only served to further blur the understanding of what transpires in Black Rock City. It is an impossible story. There is no way to describe it. The closest I can come to explaining the environment stems from The Sunshine Pussy Hut. To me, this booth captured the essence of the Burning Man festival. The structure was a small lit room covered with pillows. The various shelves held vibrators, condoms, surgical gloves, lubricants, and pornographic magazines. The vibrators and lights were powered by solar panels. The hut, designed to be a shelter for women to explore self-enjoyment, was completely twisted. Yet at the same time, there was an element of liberation to it. On the back door was a mirror with the words "You Are The Most Beautiful Woman In The World"
(End.) BACK TO THE REAL WORLD OF CIGARS AND POLITICIANS
After spending a week in the desert immersed in total madness, it was an awkward transition coming back into society. For a few days, I kept waking up thinking I was in the desert only to discover I was being tricked. The dull beige carpet in my house wasn't playa earth at all. I woke up to the disappointing reality of the real world. Eventually, I started to sober up, get reacquainted with life as usual and began to catch up on current events. One of the first things I read after returning home from Burning Man was the Kenneth Starr report on Clinton. At one point in his report, Starr describes one of Clinton's and Lewinski's sexual encounters, "On one occasion, the President inserted a cigar into her vagina." Hell, I thought, I suppose the Burning Man festival isn't that bizarre after all.
After spending a week in the desert immersed in total madness, it was an awkward transition coming back into society. For a few days, I kept waking up thinking I was in the desert only to discover I was being tricked. The dull beige carpet in my house wasn't playa earth at all. I woke up to the disappointing reality of the real world. Eventually, I started to sober up, get reacquainted with life as usual and began to catch up on current events. One of the first things I read after returning home from Burning Man was the Kenneth Starr report on Clinton. At one point in his report, Starr describes one of Clinton's and Lewinski's sexual encounters, "On one occasion, the President inserted a cigar into her vagina." Hell, I thought, I suppose the Burning Man festival isn't that bizarre after all.
(Epilogue.) BURNING MAN: A BRIEF HISTORY
"Let's build a statue and burn it." This was the base of Larry Harvey's vision when in 1986 he co-founded the event which is now known as the annual Burning Man festival. Harvey, along with Jerry James, created an improvised, eight-foot wooded structure in honor of Summer Solstice. With about 20 others in attendance, they burned the structure on Baker Beach in San Francisco. The party, a cathartic cleansing of sorts, immediately doubled in size once the man was ignited. For the next five years, the annual party continued to be held at Baker's Beach and both the height of the man and the size of the crowd in attendance continued to grow. When in 1990 they met with police resistance, Harvey and other organizers decided it was time for a change of venue. They eventually decided on Black Rock Desert in Nevada. The barren landscape provided an ideal separation from both the confines of society and the impending interference from police officials. By 1997, the week-long event had bore witness to a massive surge in both attendance and media attention. 10,000 people attended the event last year, which was featured on CNN, ABC, NBC, and in Time magazine. The preliminary attendance estimates for this year's Burning Man festival are over 12,500 with over 430 theme camps. The festival grounds covered around 400 square miles. The weeklong Burning Man festival is held every year over Labor Day weekend. To find out more about the Burning Man project visit their website at www.burningman.com or call their hotline at (650) 985-7471.
"Let's build a statue and burn it." This was the base of Larry Harvey's vision when in 1986 he co-founded the event which is now known as the annual Burning Man festival. Harvey, along with Jerry James, created an improvised, eight-foot wooded structure in honor of Summer Solstice. With about 20 others in attendance, they burned the structure on Baker Beach in San Francisco. The party, a cathartic cleansing of sorts, immediately doubled in size once the man was ignited. For the next five years, the annual party continued to be held at Baker's Beach and both the height of the man and the size of the crowd in attendance continued to grow. When in 1990 they met with police resistance, Harvey and other organizers decided it was time for a change of venue. They eventually decided on Black Rock Desert in Nevada. The barren landscape provided an ideal separation from both the confines of society and the impending interference from police officials. By 1997, the week-long event had bore witness to a massive surge in both attendance and media attention. 10,000 people attended the event last year, which was featured on CNN, ABC, NBC, and in Time magazine. The preliminary attendance estimates for this year's Burning Man festival are over 12,500 with over 430 theme camps. The festival grounds covered around 400 square miles. The weeklong Burning Man festival is held every year over Labor Day weekend. To find out more about the Burning Man project visit their website at www.burningman.com or call their hotline at (650) 985-7471.
