Bridget Irish wants you to put a potato in her nylons. While she’s wearing them. Well not right now. Right now, this Olympia-based performer, photographer, videographer, etcetera, wants you to go see her photo exhibit at King Solomon’s Reef in Olympia, or “the Reef” as most Oly-heads know it. While you’re there, make sure to order some fresh, homemade pie. When you’re done, or while you’re eating, enjoy Irish’s photographic menagerie, which also involves pie — 25 pie shots — of the genital sort — male and female, in a beautiful grid. There are some others — some collage, snap shots, some 5x7s, not all of which depict human genitals. But at least 25 of them do. No, wait. Make that 24.



“The first night it was on display, somebody stole one,” says Irish.



Irish is well known for making nudity fun. Born on St. Patrick’s Day, this Oly legend is known to create everything from short films and videos, to stills, various installations, sound and performance art. As she tells it, the content of her performance work is not intended to sexualize, despite the prevalence of nudity. Her antics, like any other art form, are intended to provoke a reaction, shift perception, challenge the audience, as well as herself. Bridget merges pop-culture references, parody and game rules to weave a tapestry of interactions with the audience, who are usually beckoned to involve themselves in each performance.



Irish aims to challenge the audience, and not just with her unveiled body bits. Like legendary German playwright and filmmaker Bertolt Brecht, she seeks to break down the flimsy, false barriers between audience and performer.



The reverse strip tease, for example, begins with a fully naked Irish, who receives a manila envelope as the Mission Impossible theme sets her body in motion. Audience members are approached, and they discover that pieces of clothing have been taped underneath their seats. Audience members are asked to assist Irish as she assembles an all-black spy suit, ending the performance fully clothed, and the audience fully entertained. Or offended … or confused … mostly entertained.



“I use the body like a sculptural medium,” says Irish. “My performances are not designed to have a sexualized content. I get a wide range of responses. There are people who really get a kick out of it. I have elderly couples tell me how much they enjoyed it. I had one person, from a fairly progressive community, that got angry because they didn’t expect to “get bush in their face” (as the irate audience member put it). “Of course, they never actually had my bush in their face.”



Irish’s other performance work is equally compelling. Hot Potato, for example, begins with Irish handing out two bags full of potatoes to audience members. Dressed in desert camouflage, she dances to Team America: World Police theme “America! F*** Yeah!” — slowly stripping down to nothing but her nylons. With a commanding voice and the fervor of an enraged drill sergeant, she commands audience members to stuff the potatoes in her nylons. Most of them gladly comply. How she manages to move with two bags of potatoes in her nylons is a scientific and anatomical mystery, and has prompted an investigation by the United States Department of Agriculture.



Whatever the outcome, Hot Potato is a moving experience.



“I have people who are disappointed that they didn’t get a potato. I’ve had people put money in my nylons,” she says. “I’ve had plenty of people slap my butt. Usually it’s older men.”



Far from frivolous, Irish’s work is intended to be compelling. She takes her work, which doesn’t all involve a naked body, very seriously. She considers much of her work to be both entertainment and invitation to conceptual exploration. Alongside inviting audience members to stuff potatoes in her pantyhose, she pays homage to French surrealist Marcel Duchamp’s seminal Nude Descending a Staircase, no. 2.



Sometimes, her work even changes people’s lives.



“There was a woman in Alabama, 42 years old, who came up to me after a show and said she had been considering plastic surgery,” she recalls. “After seeing me perform, she said she felt more comfortable with her body, and decided not to go through it.”



Ahhhh, the power of shameless nudity …



[King’s Soloman’s Reef, 212 Fourth Ave. E., Olympia, 360.357.5552]