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FINE, PROBATION FOR SHOCK ARTIST 2

SHOCK ARTISTS ARRAIGNED IN ROXBURY 3

COLEMAN FACES CHARGES ON EXPLOSIVES 4

WHEN SHOCK ART GOES TOO FAR FEAR AND LOATHING IN THE AUDIENCE 5

OFFICIALS, AUDIENCE, BF/VF REACT AS THE SMOKE CLEARS 7

AUDIENCE FLEES EXPLOSIVE PERFORMANCE 9 FINE, PROBATION FOR SHOCK ARTIST

ARTS AND FILM FINE, PROBATION FOR SHOCK ARTIST

Joe Coleman , the controversial New York-based "shock artist" who performed at the Boston Film/Video Foundation Oct. 29, pleaded guilty yesterday in Roxbury District Court to possession of fireworks and cruelty to animals. He paid a total of $662 in fines and was put on probation for one year.

The charge of possession of an inferno machine was dismissed by the Commonwealth. A count of burning of a dwelling was dismissed by the judge, according to Asst. District Attorney Robert Benson, because he saw no "willful or malicious intent."

Coleman's wife, Nancy, a co-defendent in the case is in the hospital and could not appear, her attorney said. Her case will be heard June 15.

Coleman's act, which is captured on the "Mondo New York" videotape, consisted, in part, of detonating explosives attached to his chest and biting the heads off mice.

"The judge said he cannot come into Massachusetts and perform anything related to animals," said Benson. "My understanding was he's not going to perform any 'shock art' in Massachusetts anymore."

Asked about Coleman's demeanor, Benson said, "He was very subdued and respectable toward the judge, very humble. He came in a suit and tie."

"I think Joe was satisfied with the outcome," said Coleman's lawyer, Peter Fellman. "He admitted to what the show involved and didn't admit to anything he had not done. He was charged with the appropriate offenses and got the appropriate disposition."

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ARTS AND FILM SHOCK ARTISTS ARRAIGNED IN ROXBURY

New York-based artist Joe Coleman and his wife, Nancy, yesterday pleaded not guilty to criminal charges stemming from their "shock art" performance at the Boston Film/Video Foundation last month.

Their act resulted in about $500 worth of damage and caused the audience to flee in terror. They were arraigned yesterday in Roxbury District Court and are scheduled to return Feb. 15 for either a probable cause hearing or a trial.

Last month the Boston Fire Department charged the Colemans with burning a dwelling, possessing an inferno machine -- fireworks that appeared to be a bomb -- and possessing and exploding fireworks.

The Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals has also filed a charge against Joe Coleman for being cruel to animals.

During the performance, Coleman, a 34-year-old painter and performance artist, bit the heads off of live mice and ignited fireworks attached to his chest. Nancy, who often works as his assistant, helped set fire to the explosives, which set off building fire alarms and resulted in several hundred dollars worth of damage.

Peter Fellman, a Boston attorney representing the Colemans, yesterday said privately that while the arson and possession charges "are serious," he thinks his clients have been "overcharged" by the fire department.

In a conversation prior to his arraignment, Coleman said that he thinks the charges infringe on his artistic freedom of expression. "I can't perform right now. It would be foolish to," he stated, adding that the performance he gave in Boston is what he usually does and what he has done for a while.

His wife indicated, however, that the charges have not interfered with Coleman's ability to paint. An exhibit of his work, for example, will open tonight in a New York City gallery, the SoHo Arts Center. Four other paintings that are part of a group show are currently on display at the La Luzde Jesus art gallery in Los Angeles.

Jeri Rossi, a local freelance promoter who rented the screening space at BF/VF for the Colemans' performance, joined them in court yesterday. She was arraigned two weeks ago in connection with the performance and pleaded not guilty at that time to a charge of disorderly conduct.

Rossi is also scheduled to appear back in court on Feb. 15.

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ARTS AND FILM COLEMAN FACES CHARGES ON EXPLOSIVES

The Boston Fire Department has filed charges against Joe Coleman , the New York-based artist whose "shock art" performance at the Boston Film/Video Foundation on Sunday resulted in about $500 worth of damage and caused the audience to flee.

Coleman, whose performance included biting the heads off live mice and igniting fireworks attached to his chest, has been charged with burning a dwelling, possessing an inferno machine -- in this case "fireworks that appeared to be a bomb" -- and possessing and exploding fireworks.

It is not the first time that the 33-year-old painter and performance artist has been charged with unlawful behavior. About a year ago, he was arrested in New York for "knowingly and willfully biting the heads off two live mice," a violation of the city's administrative code.

Coleman pleaded guilty to a lesser charge of disorderly conduct and was given a conditional discharge. He did not serve time, nor did he pay any fees.

Reached in New York yesterday, Coleman refused to comment on the new charges against him.

Howard Ferguson, Boston's district fire chief, said that the charges were mailed to Coleman's New York address earlier this week. "If he doesn't show up for a hearing on November 28," he said, "a warrant will be issued for his arrest."

Asked whether charges will also be filed against the BF/VF, a nonprofit group that is dedicated to promoting film and video as art forms, Ferguson said, "We probably will. What we're trying to work on is who we should bring the charges against and for what."

Anne Marie Stein, executive director of the BF/VF, yesterday expressed surprise at Ferguson's comments. "I've actually gotten an indication of the opposite," she said, referring to reassuring remarks made to her by other officials at the Fire Department this week.

The charges against Coleman were filed in Roxbury District Court late Monday by Inspector John Carey and Lt. Paul Crimmins of the fire investigating unit at the Fire Department.

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New York correspondent Joe Treen contributed to thi report.

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ARTS AND FILM WHEN SHOCK ART GOES TOO FAR FEAR AND LOATHING IN THE AUDIENCE

Back in 1972, Alice Cooper hacked up plastic baby dolls filled with fake blood during the song "Dead Babies" and later was guillotined during "Killer." A roadie proudly held up Cooper's bloody "head" for all to see: The Killer had paid for his crimes. During Cooper's last tour in 1987 his centerpiece was "Chop, Chop, Chop"/"Gail," about a maniac who tracks women named Gail. He hacked up the baby dolls again, "decapitated" a woman and sent the fake blood spurting a good 20 feet into the front rows. He was hanged this time.

"We've upped the ante," Cooper chortled to the Globe at the time. "And the pressure of the valves. I'm becoming the Stephen King of rock 'n' roll, which is not a bad place to be."

Welcome to the world of shock art, and the mind of one its most noted progenitors. But, of course, shock art didn't begin -- and certainly doesn't end -- with either Alice Cooper or rock 'n' roll. Generally, shock art -- which aims to disturb, provoke and entertain -- is traced back to the late 18th-century French cabaret Theatre du Grand Guignol, which specialized in short plays of violence, murder and rape. According to the Oxford Book of Theatre, the Grand Guignol came to London in a modified form around 1908, and has since come to signify art aiming for macabre and gruesome effect.

Its popularity with both underground and mainstream audiences relates to our desire to glimpse the taboo, to experience a forbidden thrill. It asks the question: How much is too much? How far can too far go?

In the case of Joe Coleman , whose literally explosive performance at the Boston Film/Video Foundation Sunday sparked the current controversy, "too far" is the operative term. As the fireworks exploded from Coleman's chest, the danger felt real, palpable. The noise was deafening; embers flew into the crowd; smoke filled the room. If Coleman set out to terrify, he hit the bull's-eye.

Shock art appears primarily in film and rock 'n' roll, but also in the world of dance and performance art. In the latter, the grisly can take on a very visceral tone. The most gut-wrenching modern examples of shock art are included in the 1987 film "Mondo New York" (available on video), a collection of confrontational live performances that feature sado-masochism and violence. Also in that film is a tamer version of the mice-biting and explosives act of Coleman.

The cinematic world began to rev its engines in the early '60s. Introducing "The Psychotronic History of Film," a book about offbeat and violent movies, Michael Weldon wrote, "Critics searching for art condemn most of these features for the very reason that millions continue to enjoy them: violence, sex, noise and often mindless escapism."

Herschell Gordon Lewis set the stage in 1963 with "The Blood Feast," of which Weldon writes, "This is it! The infamous first gore film. . . . A tongue, brains, and a leg are removed in disgusting and convincing full-color detail." Lewis turned out a slew of similar-minded films, paving the way for the early wave of horror, best exemplified by Wes Craven's terrifying "Last House on the Left" and "The Hills of Eyes," and the genre masterwork, Tobe Hooper's 1974 "Texas Chainsaw Massacre." A deluge of lesser-quality so-called splatter films followed, such as the "Halloween" and "Friday the 13th" series.

Rock 'n' roll, the traditional outlet for frustrated youth, has, in one form or another, operated outside the mainstream since its inception. At one time Elvis Presley, Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis were shocking. But as they and their descendants became more accepted, those who wanted to keep the shock quotient were moved to greater extremities -- the Rolling Stones posing in drag, Screaming Lord Sutch being carried on stage in a coffin, Frank Zappa singing tales of exploits with groupies.

2007 Factiva, Inc. All rights reserved. Rock 'n' roll shock art hit the mainstream with Cooper in the early '70s, and thrived along the fringes with Iggy and the Stooges. Both Iggy Pop, whose act included cutting his chest with broken glass and smearing peanut butter on his chest, and Cooper, whose act included more theatrical blood-letting, were inspired by the Doors' Jim Morrison, infamous for exposing himself during a Florida concert.

The heat was turned up a notch when the punk rock revolution began to take shape in 1976. The New York-based Plasmatics, fronted by nearly nude ex-porn star Wendy O. Williams, wreaked havoc with chainsaw music, chainsaw props, violence and sexual explicitness. John Cale bit the head off a chicken during one show. The Sex Pistols' Sid Vicious sliced up his chest on their US tour; Johnny Rotten blew his nose all over the stage. Scraping Foetus Off the Wheel forced stomach turning by simply choosing its name. Singer-performance artist Lydia Lunch, girlfriend of Foetus' Jim Thirlwell, has unveiled multiple tales of rape and degradation on stage, the intent being to hold up a mirror to what she perceives as the ugliness all around us.

Although Ozzy Osbourne is well known for biting into a bat on stage -- it was a mistake, he thought it was rubber -- heavy metal's version of shock rock tends to be more theatrical and outsized: Hence, the dramatic, semicomic fake bloodletting of acts such as Cooper, KISS, King Diamond and GWAR, the latter of whom was at the Channel last Saturday. In metal, you'll find allusions to Satanism, general mayhem and inverted morality tales. The idea is to provide an outlet for the unspeakable, an escapist, cathartic fantasy.

The world of dance has its shock troopers, too, most notably Japan's postwar Butoh school. The members of Sankai Juku, a troupe perhaps best recalled for the death plunge of one its members in 1985, used to dangle terrifyingly from skyscrapers. Another Japanese artist, Saburo Teshigawara, has danced upon a bed of broken glass. In the photographic world, the late Robert Mapplethorpe has become the shock celebre for his controversial, often homoerotic, work, one example of which depicts a man urinating into another's mouth.

It's in the performing-arts field, though, that the going gets most gritty. The Kipper Kids, known for showering themselves and others with debris, have pelted audiences with eggs, paints and ink; Harry Kipper gleefully relates in "Re/Search No. 11: Pranks!," "There was horror, literal panic, people were tripping over each other trying to get out of the room."

Chris Burden, whose exhibits were at the Institute of Contemporary Art recently, once was crucified atop a VW, among other self-destructive experiences. Karen Finley has crammed yams into her rectum on stage; Boston-based painter and performance artist Alex Grey once painted "Necrophilia," and performed an act that included skeletons and chicken corpses -- proving, wrote the Globe's Christine Temin, that "even in this jaded age, art can still startle and even shock."

Which is, it would seem, the bottom line of shock art: to keep pushing the extreme, redefining limits, redefining revulsion. The antics of Cooper are relatively harmless fare, comic-book escapes; the tales of Finley and Lunch are disgusting, but gripping. The explosions of Coleman bring shock art into a whole different realm -- where the danger is in your face.

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1. Executive Director Ann Marie Stein says the Boston Film/Video Foundation did not know in advance what Coleman's performance at its facility would be like. / GLOBE STAFF PHOTO / MICHELE McDONALD

2. Alice Cooper used dolls and fake blood on stage in the '70s.

Globe dance critic Christine Temin contributed to t

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ARTS AND FILM OFFICIALS, AUDIENCE, BF/VF REACT AS THE SMOKE CLEARS

Anne Marie Stein of the Boston Film/Video Foundation found herself in the middle of a storm of phone calls yesterday.

Stein, executive director of the nonprofit group, spoke with BF/VF board members early in the day, the Massachusetts Council on the Arts and Humanities at midmorning and a legion of reporters throughout the afternoon.

She told everybody the same thing: "I certainly think we could have known more and should have known more. From our point of view, endangering the public and cruelty to animals is a problem. ... I would find it highly disturbing if this would be considered an example of what we do. ... Clearly I think there's an issue for us to review our access policy."

As the head of an organization dedicated to promoting film and video as art forms, Stein was fielding inquiries about the "shock art" performance of Joe Coleman , a New York-based painter and performance artist who appeared at the BF/VF's facilities at 1126 Boylston St. last weekend. Coleman's performance ended abruptly Sunday when he bit the heads off live mice and then ignited fireworks attached to his chest, causing an audience of about 35 to flee the smoke-filled theater. The performance, designed to terrorize the audience, did exactly that. It also produced so much smoke near its end that it set off building fire alarms, and caused about $500 worth of damage, according to fire officials.

Coleman is now under investigation by the police and fire departments as well as the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Lt. John Carey, of the city's arson squad, said criminal charges are likely to be brought against the New York performer, charges that may include burning a dwelling and the illegal possession of an incendiary device.

"I imagine if I went through the complete law books I could come up with 900 charges against him," said Carey. "Every one of them would be a criminal charge. With the fireworks and smoke, there could have been trampling with the panic it caused."

Coleman, now back in New York, said that on the advice of his attorney he would have no comment.

According to Stein, the BF/VF -- a small and generally respected arts foundation -- had no knowledge of what it was getting into when it decided to rent its performing space to Coleman for $20 an hour.

"We were told this person was in 'Mondo New York,' " a documentary about the seamy side of New York, says Stein, "and we didn't know anything about him." Stein says a BF/VF volunteer approached the organization about renting out facilities to Coleman. "We were shown a picture of a man with explosives taped to his chest and we went to ask her if that would be happening and she said, 'No, nothing to that extent.' "

But there were explosions on stage, and a number of audience members said they were afraid during the performance.

"Everyone was in the same condition I was in, with adrenaline racing, feeling real disturbed, just glad you didn't get hurt," said Peter Prescott of the local band Volcano Suns, who watched the performance. He went on to say that Coleman was making "a legitimate artistic and political point: That people are so dead to things you have to go this far to jolt them."

"At the time I felt it wasn't fun, that it was ridiculous and I was going to run out," says Viveca Gardiner, a Somerville financial writer who was also in the audience. "I'm thrilled because we made it out and it's a great story. It provoked a reaction in me that nothing else has in a while."

Stein says the BF/VF has certainly learned its lesson. The BF/ VF, she said, receives nearly half of its funding -- which totaled $730,000 this year -- from public sources like the Massachusetts Council on the Arts and Humanities and the National Endowment for the Arts. It does not want to jeopardize its access to such money in an era when the public funding of the arts is increasingly under scrutiny. Such mistakes, she says, could very well cost an organization such as hers its life.

Rick Schwartz, a spokesman for the Mass. Council, said yesterday that no such thing would happen in this case. The council, which provided the BF/VF with $57,000 last year, will continue to support it.

"They receive our funding and I'm proud to say they do," said Schwartz. "I don't know if you could possibly connect them to what happened. . . . If the council has any reason to believe the whole thing is being improperly handled then we would certainly withhold funds. But we are honored with our association with the BF/VF. Certainly they have no record with us that suggests that they should be put on probation. There is no history of problems with the BF/VF."

Last year, the National Endowment for the Arts supplied the group with $118,000 and the Arts Lottery provided $6,000. The balance of the BF/VF budget was obtained through earned income. Much of it came through renting out performing space to artists like Coleman.

In the past the BF/VF has worked with film makers and artists on a diverse range of subjects. Film makers and artists who work with the organization said yesterday that they hope Sunday night's performance will not be overblown.

"The organization is critical to film people in this community," said Rhonda Richards, a filmmaker who is receiving help for a documentary on cows from the BF/VF. "It would be terrible if anything bad happened to the organization in terms of it losing its funding or public face. It's not like it was approved, like the BF/ VF was saying, 'Hey, let's do this really outrageous thing."'

At the State House, a key legislator was agreeing with that viewpoint yesterday.

"Every once in a while in the business of the arts, as in the business of government, you get a dud," said Rep. Nicholas Paleologos (D-Woburn), House chairman of the Arts and Education Committee, which handles legislation affecting the Mass. Council. "That seems to be the case here. But you shouldn't abolish a funding program just because there are a few rotten apples in the barrel."

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Executive Director Ann Marie Stein says the Boston Film/Video Foundation did not know in advance what Coleman's performance at its facility would be like. / GLOBE STAFF PHOTO / MICHELE McDONALD

Carol Stocker of the Globe staff contributed to thi report.

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LIVING AUDIENCE FLEES EXPLOSIVE PERFORMANCE

A performance at the Boston Film/Video Foundation Sunday night resulted in the Boston arson and bomb squads being called in to investigate and may result in the arrests of the promoter, Jeri Rossi, and the performance artist, Joe Coleman , according to the promoter.

Rossi, a now-suspended member of the BF/VF, rented the space at 1126 Boylston St., near Massachusetts Ave., to present the New York-based Coleman's performance, which included a series of explosions -- from devices attached to Coleman's chest and from a dummy at the rear of the stage -- and the killing of live mice.

"The real performance started after everyone left," said Rossi yesterday. "The fire department and the police came and saw the blood and were really freaked out. They thought this was a cult or something. They found what they thought was a bomb and called in the bomb squad. We Coleman and herself are going to be served with summonses, brought before a magistrate."

A Boston police spokesman said yesterday that there were no arrests made Sunday night, but that arrests were possible. Lt. John Kerry of the Arson Squad, who Rossi said investigated the case, was unavailable for comment yesterday afternoon.

Anne Marie Stein, executive director of the BF/VF, said yesterday, "At present, there are no charges pressed against the BF/ VF. We have a policy where members can rent rooms and that's what Jeri did. We have a problem as far as how explicitly we were made to understand what was going to happen. It was a question of irresponsibility on Jeri's part. She simply didn't think it through in terms of danger to the public and the organization. It's not at all something the BF/VF condones. We are certainly going to review our access policy."

This is how Coleman's performance looked to this critic.

Film reviewers often write of terrifying, nail-biting movies. Those are illusions of terror -- we're frightened by the homicidal maniac in a horror film because we feel for the victims and transpose the fear to ourselves: It could be us.

Real terror is when it is us. Real terror is when a barrage of explosives attached to a man's chest detonates 20 feet in front of your face, filling the room with an overwhelming blast and a bath of choking smoke that sets off the venue's smoke detector, which beeps eerily in the haze. Real terror is when the explosions shoot embers, sparks and debris into the horrified, soon-to-be-fleeing audience.

Here's how the explosions came about. Joe Coleman , billed as Charles Manson's favorite artist, is a painter and performance artist who was bringing his act to town for the first time. The evening began on an off-kilter note with a poetic, albeit delirious, rant from the peg-legged, gray-bearded Joe Davis.

Then Coleman's performance began, set up by about a half-hour of grainy, old black-and-white hardcore pornographic films. They were screened to the accompaniment of old country-blues tunes. The audience shifted uncomfortably, waiting for this annoying tedium to break, wondering if it would break.

It broke with a vengeance. Swinging from a beam and in a harness, a screaming, upside-down Coleman came crashing through the movie screen. As the screen tore, it revealed a set that included a goat carcass hanging from the beam and an eerie dummy positioned to the rear of the stage. An assistant -- perhaps Coleman's wife; she often works with him set fire to the explosives affixed to Coleman's chest and shortly the shattering explosions filled the room. The audience collectively recoiled, as the tedium abruptly gave way

2007 Factiva, Inc. All rights reserved. to shock, fear and outrage. Robin Brown of Somerville, an audience member sitting in the third row, caught an ember on her cheek; another burned a hole through her skirt.

Coleman emitted howls as he swung from the harness. When he was cut down from the harness, he lurched toward the front row, whereupon he produced two live mice and tore chunks from them, apparently eating parts of them. Tim Joseph, a Boston University student in the front row, did his best to remain detached as his face was covered in mouse blood. More explosions came from the rear of the stage as the dummy blew up. Coleman tore through the aisle to the back of the room and out the fire escape. Tension and smoke hovered in the air. Was there any other attack to come or was the "show" over? How far was this man going to go?

But practicality interceded. The smoke was beginning to choke us, and the 35 or so people in attendance began to flee. Our party went to the fire escape, but stopped there when we saw Coleman on it. We hastily turned and left through the main exit.

Quote from Joe Coleman in "Re/Search No. 11: Pranks!," a book on people and organizations who pull pranks: "I take it as far as I can without killing anybody. . . . I hate art. But if I didn't have what I have now, I would be behind bars. And I don't want to be behind bars."

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