The discussion centred on the usual: how, back in 1976, ‘Prostitution’ had nearly closed the ICA, with me replying ‘Yes’ to a question on whether the title (a jibe at the art world) was as relevant today as it was then. That received nods of agreement and critical mumblings from other corners of the room.
I met Diana, the editor of Taschen’s erotica publications, a very nice, exuberant woman who had worked on Oui magazine in the USA in the 1970s, who told me the editor had been over the moon when he’d received photos of me for an issue, saying how the Americans didn’t realise who they had in the mag. Apparently he’d added, ‘It’s Cosey Fanni Tutti – she’s an icon in the UK. You have no idea how important she is.’ I was embarrassed and had no reply to that, so I showed her my dummy copy of Confessions, which was the main reason for our introduction as she was working on a book on 1970s porn. She loved it and was going to follow up with Cabinet.
The next day I went to Cabinet and we decided on what form Confessions would take: a limited deluxe-edition, white, hardback facsimile (printed by me) in a black slipcase with a black-and-white signed photograph of an outtake from the original ‘Confessions’ magazine photo shoot – plus that postscript text which had reawakened deep-seated memories and emotions.
I was being thrown into my past and facing head-on the reality that my work had influenced and inspired some people – especially as that weekend was also the opening of Cosey Club, a new London venture named after me and run by Richard Clouston, Sara Burn, Caoimhe McQueen and Jon Butterworth. What a tribute.
*
Chris was going through discomfort of his own. Having the house reverberating with the sound of twenty-four hours of TG for months on end took its toll on him. He was getting regular migraines and sleepless nights, with the grating sounds whirling round and filling his thoughts.
He’d been ill with backache for months, then he was finally diagnosed with kidney stones and underwent unpleasant and very painful lithotripsy ultrasound shock-wave treatment. He was engaging with sonics on a whole other agonising ‘wavelength’. I was so worried for him – he was in theatre far longer than any of the other day patients – and when he came out he looked white and strained. ‘I’m glad that’s over. It was like being relentlessly fist-punched in the kidney,’ he said when I drove him home.
He recovered well and we decided to keep to our plans for my next action, ‘Self lessness Two’, at Beachy Head, Eastbourne. Fizzy lived nearby, was still working as a psychiatric nurse, and had lost a few patients who had killed themselves at Beachy Head. Back in 1999, me and Geff had talked about going there to do a ritual blessing for those who had committed suicide – what he called an ‘exorcism’. I realised after three years of talking that he was never going to be together enough for it to happen as a joint work. Besides, I had my own personal reasons for using the site, beyond its reference as the front cover of TG’s 20 Jazz Funk Greats album. Beachy Head is a notorious suicide spot, a site where people choose to end their lives, a heavily loaded, deeply personal place that encapsulates a sense of self.
Although so vastly different from Disneyland (the first ‘Self lessness’ site), it has one incongruous thing in common: it’s a tourist attraction. When me and Chris arrived mid-morning to do my action, there were coachloads of tourists making their way to the famous suicide site. We turned round and drove back to the hotel, rescheduling for dawn the next day. At 4 a.m. we made our way back to the cliff. As I walked along, I gathered symbolic flowers and plants to bind with those I’d brought from my garden. It was a misty morning, the place was deserted, and there was a profound sense of peace. Even if I couldn’t understand suicide, I could understand why people came there. It was beautiful and the white cliffs breathtaking and strangely enticing. I traced the outline of a prone figure on the ground, overlaying it with the flowers and plants, then began the ritual. The gestures and handmade objects, which included a part of me, represented many cultures and symbolised male and female as one, life, death, immortality, blood, remembrance, paradise, sorrow, truth, protection and the sleep of death.
The ritual complete and documented, we left the site. When we returned later that afternoon the packs of tourists were back. Groups of people were stood looking at my ritual site, which resembled a cross between a crime scene and a memorial tribute. They were respectfully walking around the action relics. Everything was intact – no one had disturbed a thing.
25 August 2002
We’ve lived and breathed ‘TG24’ for months now. Also many emails back and forth … it’s gone far better than we expected. Sleazy seems to have relished collaborating with us and invited us to stay at his place to work on the TG installation …
After numerous Cabinet and Mute meetings, it was decided that Cabinet Gallery would host the TG24 launch and curate a related exhibition and installation. The visit to Sleazy’s never happened. He’d been hard to get hold of, having had to sort out what he called ‘distractions of late’. Geff had announced that he and Sleazy had split up for good. I spoke with Sleazy and he apologised for not being in touch and seemed cheery and resigned to the split. Coil were to continue and he took on gig bookings. That situation brought his work on TG to a halt.
4 September 2002
It’s funny to think that if we ever meet up again (all 4) that it may be Gen and Sleazy that find it more difficult than me and Gen. The thought of doing a gig together got put to me yesterday (rumours of TG reunion). When I thought about it I realised that would mean getting together quite a few times prior to the show etc.
13 November 2002
Gen has been very kind. If he continues like this then working together shouldn’t be too bad. He wrote to say he was nervous about playing together again for a number of reasons, he’s not the same angry Gen and doesn’t want to ‘act’ out as someone he isn’t. That’s fine.
The thought of a TG reunion held different reservations for all four of us. At the same time as holding back ‘that thought’, we were talking about performing and recording together, and Chris and Sleazy were working on a TG website. It was as if TG regrouping was inevitable.
Yet our own ongoing projects were what each of us were most connected with. Me and Chris had started DJing and were loving it – and seriously thinking about dropping Chris & Cosey and moving over to the moniker of Carter Tutti. Our new music had changed and was a far cry from the classic C&C sound. Chris wasn’t keen on doing any gigs at all, seeing as we were already overloaded, but what with my health and OU degree studies I’d been on an enforced lockdown from creative activities for so long that I wanted to take opportunities while I felt OK-ish.
We’d turned down a lot of gig offers but accepted one for 23 November at Luchtbal in Antwerp, Belgium, and designated it as our last gig playing C&C material. We spent a month putting together a special video and C&C set. Nick took a break from art college to come with us as our roadie and ended up designing the cover of the ensuing live CD. Dropping C&C felt like a positive step forward, freeing ourselves from our earlier music. Which is odd (or not) considering we were revisiting the past work of TG.
The C&C gig was largely uneventful, another episode in the timeline of our ongoing body of work. Three days after our return from Antwerp we were in London installing the TG24 exhibition at Cabinet Gallery. Sleazy was still distracted but back in touch, and all four of us were about to meet again in just a few days’ time.
2 December 2002
3pm and we had just unpacked and were putting the kettle on for a cup of tea when there was a knock on the door.
We’d just arrived at the Express Holiday Inn in Old Street, London. Chris answered a knock on the door. He was gobsmacked to see Gen stood there, smiling from ear to ear. At first he’d thought it was an Asian chambermaid.
Gen looked so different: well dressed, slim, with a dark shade of foundation and gold-and-silver eyeshadow. We knew he was transgender – he’d ‘come out’ some months earlier – but my eyes were constantly drawn to his face,
trying to figure out what had happened. Then I remembered he’d had cosmetic surgery. He was quite hyper too. His hands and feet constantly danced, pitter-patter, and he fanned his long, red, false fingernails as he talked. We were all cheerily saying ‘hellos’ as a kneejerk response to the weirdness of the whole situation.
‘This is weird, isn’t it?’ Gen said.
‘Yes, it is,’ me and Chris replied in unison.
He was edgy but full of smiles and very nice. We hadn’t expected such excitement from Gen but coming face to face with each other after over twenty years, given our troublesome history, was always going to be a bit tricky for us all. Better to be cheery than solemn. The first face-to-face introduction had been brief and Gen went back to his room. We’d all agreed to get together privately when Sleazy arrived in an hour or so, for a coffee to ‘break the ice’.
Reception called to say they had a delivery for me: a beautiful bouquet of flowers from Mute, along with a ‘Hello’ letter from Gen that he’d left at reception for us (and one for Sleazy) earlier in the day. Sleazy arrived from Weston and dropped by our room to have a few words before the group meet with Gen. He’d also had a visit from Gen. As well as the letters to us three, that was a nice gesture.
Gen’s new wife, Jackie, had come over with him and we all met up at the Real Greek restaurant just behind the hotel. We sat around a table and ordered coffee. Before anyone else could say anything, Sleazy bristled and began to lay down the law, saying that before we went any further he would like to make some things clear. At this point, Gen’s hands started shaking and Jackie put her arm around him. Sleazy continued, directing his words at Gen and saying that it was important that we must not start up together as TG without acknowledging that Gen had said and done some horrendous things to us, and we mustn’t act like nothing had happened or that we were all best friends again.
Me and Chris were quite shocked at Sleazy’s outburst. I tried to calm things a little by quietly suggesting that, bearing in mind our past, we should all be honest with each other – to say so if anything irritated us, not to let it fester but instead to accept any criticism as something positive for the good of TG. Gen nodded but then said that we all have our own perspective and memories of what happened. Sleazy’s eyebrow went up at that, then into a frown, but he said nothing.
Gen’s response was a veiled refusal to acknowledge his past bad deeds. Sleazy’s request had effectively been denied. We moved on to the big question that had been floating round for over a year. Would TG regroup and play live again? All four of us had been discussing the possibility for a few months and decided that, in principle, we could do it. I hadn’t wanted to regroup and had held out as long as I could, but TG being a democracy I was outvoted three to one.
The initial meeting came to an end and I passed Jackie my camera and asked her to take a photo of us all on this historic occasion. We all left the restaurant. Chris, Sleazy and Gen were in front as I walked along behind them with Jackie. She suggested that ‘we girls’ go shopping and let the guys get on with all the group business. It was nice of her to be so friendly but I realised that she didn’t appreciate what TG was actually about or my role in both it and the TG24 exhibition. I didn’t know what Gen had (or had not) told her. I politely said no as I had TG interviews, meetings and a photo session to do. We were facing a busy week ahead.
Me and Chris spent the next day relaxing and resting before a group meal that evening. It was a business meal about Mute and TG releases and we’d said Jackie was welcome to come along. We wandered over to the Real Greek restaurant to meet everyone. Sleazy, Paul Taylor from Mute and Paul Smith were at the bar. We were led to the small private room reserved for us and were subsequently joined by Gen and Jackie, who placed her video camera on the table and pressed ‘Record’. It was inappropriate and insensitive not to ask if any of us minded. Gen noticed us all looking at the little red ‘Record’ light and assured us that it would be turned off when we got to any serious discussions. That wasn’t the point, and him making assumptions and decisions on our behalf didn’t go down well. The serious discussions didn’t really get far because of the disruptive antics of Gen and Jackie.
Daniel was late … Someone said he was with Cherie Blair at 10 Downing Street, talking about the future of the Roundhouse. But no sooner had Daniel sat down at the table than Jackie took hold of the video camera and put it about six inches from his face and started ‘interviewing’ him: ‘Who are you? Where have you been?’ It was a performance for the room and made for a very awkward moment. Daniel was polite but everyone else (except Gen) was getting pissed off.
Food was ordered and delivered to the table, at which point Jackie stood up with her camera and shouted at everyone to look up and smile. I was simmering inside, ready to boil over. I could just see her from the corner of my eye, hand on hip and huffing at me for not doing as I was told. She shouted at me again. I told her to fuck off and carried on eating. She sat down, put the camera away and began fawning all over Gen … then the waiter, and then Paul Taylor. It was embarrassing. Gen saw nothing wrong with what was going on. They both seemed to be in their own world.
The meeting was far from constructive – a lost opportunity on many levels. Outside the restaurant, me, Chris, Sleazy and the two Pauls were laughing and joking together, imagining the scenario of TG being put in a house like on Big Brother and what the consequences would be. If anything, Gen’s performance that night had put us on high alert.
I never take pleasure in being right when it’s about something bad. I wish I could have bonded with Jackie, as it would have made life easier in the TG camp. Gen acted up when she was around, showing off as if he were commander-in-chief of TG. We didn’t see her again until the exhibition opening.
Mute had lined up a whole day of interviews in a small conference room at the hotel. Chris was quiet and happy for Sleazy to do most of the talking, and I piped up to balance things out a bit. I think Sleazy’s strategy was to keep a check on Gen’s input, just in case he started wrongly claiming to have invented acid house, or some such nonsense. Paul Smith came along at noon to whisk us off to Kingsland Road for a Vietnamese meal and to discuss TG gig offers from Tate Britain as well as an offer to curate at an ATP festival at Camber Sands. Gen told us all that, by the time we played Camber Sands, he’d probably be a woman and it would be Chris and Sleazy at the side of the stage, with ‘us two girls in the middle’.
We all agreed that Mute would handle the merchandising and finances. Gen had wanted Jackie to do it all. We three wanted it to be as simple and stress-free as possible – wishful thinking.
*
After the last interview, we all prepared for the TG24 box set launch, which was in conjunction with the TG24 exhibition at Cabinet Gallery. I’d worked hard with Andrew and Martin selecting, collating and installing the show. We’d all loaned from our TG archives to bring together the first comprehensive display of TG and IR material relative to the release, and had a listening room set up that played the full twenty-fours hours’ audio six hours a day for four days.
Me and Chris were the last ones to arrive at the private view. As I walked into the foyer the first person I saw was Kim Norris, who was now very outgoing and looking good. We hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in years. ‘Hello!’ she screeched, as if she’d seen her best friend. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’
‘Yes, I do,’ I said, and walked straight past her.
The place was absolutely packed with Cabinet artists, people from Mute and Rough Trade; the list of familiar (and unfamiliar) faces was endless and the excitement was tangible. I didn’t see much of Gen all night. He held court in the listening room with his invited entourage. I think he might have been uneasy about the number of people in the other gallery room that he’d pissed off over the years. Jackie had been drifting around, videoing and photographing everyone and fawning. But worst of all, she and Gen had been talking to people about the proposed TG gigs when we’d all agreed to keep it under wraps
. Alex Fergusson came up and told me Gen had asked him to do some work with him for when we all played the following year! I couldn’t find Gen to tell him to keep his mouth shut – he’d left shortly after a fracas when a drunk guy had apparently tried to lift Jackie’s dress. She’d pushed him away, which sent wine up the wall of the TG listening room and all over the floor, just missing the display. To finish off the evening, we were greeted by the sight of more red wine having been thrown up the entrance-hall walls and all over the door. Not nice for Cabinet’s first show in their new gallery space but at least it was authentic in being a typical TG event.
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