The musicroom || Open

His hands clutched the bow of the violin a bit tighter, almost snapping it in two with the force he used. Charlie let the bow slide across the strings, creating the lovely sound that would normally cause him to calm down a bit, but not this time. He groaned in frustration and cursed again, pressing the bow harder against the strings, the music turning less and less soothing by the second. In fact, it became more haunting, the tones were dragged out, eerie, almost scary, as if he was trying to play La Danse Macabre instead of Die Moldau. His eyes were shut tightly, brows furrowing as he struggled to not let his inner turmoil of confused emotions and self-hatred take over the course of the music. He, however, was so overwhelmed with all these confusing emotions that he couldn’t concentrate, and one of the strings of his violin snapped just as he heard someone open the door. He didn’t bother to see who it was as he continued to play.

"No. Fuck off. Turn around and walk away. Good day to you too."

Günter Brus, 1965. Strolling through the centre of Vienna in Austria the day after his first public action, ‘Self-Painting/Self-Mutilation’ in 1965. Painted entirely in white with a black strip over his face and body, Brus was almost immediately arrested by the police for being potentially disturbing to the public (as noted by Tracey Warr and Amelia Jones in The Artist’s Body)