Portait of the Artist as a Young...Gladiator?

On August 13th artist and owner of East River Tattoo Duke Riley staged a Naumachia titled Those About to Die Salute You at the former World’s Fairgrounds in Flushing Meadows Corona Park in Queens. Naumachia is a bloody spectator sport hosted by Roman emperors where prisoners fought to their death in naval battles as a means to appease the masses in times of economic and societal collapse.

The historical re-enactment was a project created during the artist’s residency at Queens Museum where Riley and a group of volunteers used the abandoned hockey rink as a studio and a resource for materials, using parts and scraps of the soon-to-be demolished space for boats, costumes and props. After months of grueling preparation the performance lasted a mere 20 minutes but not without instigating a pandemonium with tomatoes and watermelons bolting through the air and hundreds of spectators jumping into the pool arena with battle cries, ready and willing to kill.
The 37 year old artist moved to Greenpoint in 1997 working in woodshops along Franklin Street before opening East River Tattoo in 2001. “We used to pick up furniture from the streets and sell it back to the people in flea markets” says Duke Riley. His decision to quit tattooing upon moving to New York faded after an argument led to an ear being bitten, an arrest, and numerous court trials leaving him strapped for cash. “It was actually the best thing that happened to me because I realized that’s what I wanted to do.” Riley started tattooing in the Manhattan and took over a shop when the owner fell ill, which was eventually moved to Greenpoint. “Back then the shop catered mostly to Polish, Puerto Rican and Irish guys doing flash stuff like hearts and tribal stuff. There was a lot of energy and a neighborhood vibe back then” Riley recalls.

Being a tattoo artist is difficult with collaborative and labor-intensive projects such as the recent naval battle but he notes the exchange of ideas and inspiration between both roles. “I’m constantly inspired by people’s tattoos, I save sketches to use in my artwork and it’s a symbiotic exchange. People I tattoo end up participating in my projects and it offers a real cross-section of society. It gives me a sense of what’s going on in the minds of the city or the world and it’s an interesting vantage point that definitely affects my work.”

A sense of danger and risk is apparent in Riley’s work that fuses an idiosyncratic mix interactive performance and a sailor’s love of the waterfront. “My personality tends to be attracted to things that are oppositional,” claims Riley. “It’s a necessary element in our society that when people don’t take risks and live in fear of getting in trouble things get stagnant and that’s more dangerous and shakes the fabric of democracy.”
The naval battle is an ambitious example of what occurs when the public is given the opportunity to participate in an aggressive and uproarious spectacle of pure mayhem. Five boats represented a museum from each borough made of reeds and scrap material with employees and ringers manning the fort with garbage can shields and broom helmets, toga costumes and mounds of tomatoes. Hundreds of revelers pooled in their efforts to stimulate the battle. Shouts and jeers reverberated around the arena and in less than half an hour boats were sunken and a replica of Queen Mary 2 burst into flames and fireworks. “People were more amped and aggressive than I anticipated, they were out for blood” recalls Riley.
Riley’s theatrical naval battle reflected the possibilities of community effort in a time of societal uncertainty, albeit expressed in a demented and disturbing manner. The project is not an artwork for “an incestuous group of art intellectuals. Engaging the community and making the work accessible to the masses without exclusivity is important” and this performative battle proves this point with an insistent yet successful determination.