TICE LERNER'S ZOMBIE PROSTHETICS BLUR THE LINES OF REALIT
There is no knowing when one of Tice Lerner’s zombies will show up and cause a momentary glitch in your reality. I recently sat down with Lerner at The Shop in Downtown Binghamton, where he’s a regular. Like Victor Frankenstein, there is nothing sinister about him, only curiosity and fascination with creating life, or in Lerner’s case, the illusion of it. The artist does the majority of his preliminary work behind closed doors, keeping his creation a secret until he sets it off into the world, inserting the bizarre and uncanny into otherwise ordinary scenes.
He has always been enthralled by the idea of creating something that looks so real, it overcomes the logic that says it isn’t possible. “Probably as far back as [age] seven, I was huge into horror movies, fantasy films- particularly 80s films. Legend is one that really stands out to me, with Tim Curry. The makeup they did for that was phenomenal. One of the most extensive prosthetic jobs of its time.” That you could turn something unreal into a physical, tangible thing has been a persistent fascination of Lerner’s.
You may already know of Lerner’s photography, which also plays an important role in documenting the prosthetics’ ephemeral life (they are destroyed upon removal). He photographed a series documenting the aftermath of the 2011 floods, and in April we wrote about his Ever Onward series, in which he explored the city’s complicated economic history through its individuals at street level. He also helped produce the LUMA Projection Arts Festival, which turned buildings into canvases for animated projections. Very little of his work has had both its start and end in the studio. “I like canvasses that can interact,” he says, “and certainly as a photographer, my street photography and everything else fits a more conventional format of presentation. So this is the other end, you know: this is that thing I can do that I can put in someone’s face, and I can give them an experience that is interactive, that is blurring reality.”
A character doesn’t come to full fruition until it is applied and brought to life by a model. Lerner most often works with local painter and photographer Dillon Utter. Utter has been at the center of several of Tice’s creations, among them Rot Jaw (pictured on the cover), Dirty Old Crone, and Necro Doll, whose names should give you an idea of their appearances. Each of these prosthetic jobs were made up of multiple pieces, not to mention a costume and a wig or head covering. Along with Utter’s expressiveness, Tice says he is “extremely willing to go through the physical process of creating these things and wearing them, which in itself is a task.”
The model has an important role starting at the first stage of the creation process, because in order to properly fit the new face to its wearer, it must be fashioned on top of a precise mold. “Casting is everything,” says Lerner. “The simple explanation is you can add something to someone, but you can’t remove it.” Lerner creates the casting using a material called alginate (derived from algae and commonly used as a dental impression material), with which he covers the entire head, leaving open only small holes for the nostrils. The model must sit in the dark, hot encasement and wait for the mold to dry before it is cut into a front and back piece and carefully removed. Lerner then creates a casting of very hard gypsum plaster from this mold- which is an exact duplicate of the person’s head- and begins to build the prosthetics on top of it. Over the next few weeks, or sometimes months, he sculpts the pieces that will come together to create his character. When the day of the performance arrives, the application process can take three to four hours. Only then is the zombie released into the real world for six or seven hours while the artist watches from nearby, at times approaching to capture a photograph.
Tice and his zombies will go just about anywhere, as long as there are a lot of people. They usually start downtown, the zombie stealing the attention of any space it enters. Probably thanks to anti-discrimination laws, Lerner’s zombies may show up in pretty much any restaurant or shop downtown. They may creep up on you walking down the sidewalk; they’ve taken photos with bewildered students in the bars on State Street; they’ve trudged up and down the aisles of Imagicka and the liquor store. There’s an amusing photo of Rot Jaw staring pensively into a mirror in Boscov’s, and another of him standing on line at the AMC Vestal Theater. They usually end the tour at Wal-Mart because it takes a drive to get there.
The Skylark in Vestal, another place frequented by Lerner, has also been graced by zombie presence- there he received one of his most memorable reactions. He recounts, “There was a moment with Rot Jaw in the Skylark where he actually went into the back kitchen, and the cooks pulled a meat cleaver on him, and after some noise in the back kitchen, he comes blowing through the doors of the Skylark, and there was a lady sitting parallel in the booth right across from the kitchen, and she freaked out. And she actually started crying and hiding under the table, and they had to move her to the back of the diner because she had some sort of zombie phobia, and Dillon just was too real for her to deal with.”
Lerner says that while most people are only shocked momentarily, this was not the only time one of his monsters has elicited true fear in people. “When you can get an adult that can’t stare it in the face, you know, to me that’s my favorite moment, because they’re old enough that they know what can and can’t be, but I made them believe it for at least a moment, or more than a moment, because it they can’t look at it, it’s exceeded the general boo factor.”
As eerie as the prosthetics are to people who encounter them, they are perhaps most strange to the person wearing them, at least at first. “You’ve put masks on before and it’s not that weird. But when you have a prosthetic on, every movement translates. Everything looks as if it’s part of you.” As a witness or audience to the zombie, the realistic quality disguises the tedium which goes into maintaining the illusion. But behind the scenes, reality seeps in ways you wouldn’t think of. The dentures- a particularly grotesque aspect of the face- fit so that they pull at the model’s lips. This prevents the model from speaking and limits him to moans and groans, and it also hinders the normal flow of saliva. Saliva flows into little pockets of the mask, and every now and then, Tice and the small crew he brings with him find a quiet place to drain the saliva. While in some ways the prosthetic is in harmony with the body, in others, the body is at the prosthetic’s mercy.
Producing facial prosthetics requires a strong understanding of the body, both biologically and aesthetically. Lerner comes from an engineering background, and finds that the same methodical way of thinking applies to work in both science and art. “I see science and art as very much related, in the way that [they both] require creativity: you’re creating something you need,” he says. Part of what makes the prosthetics so believable is that they are based on real human features. “To make something convincing that doesn’t exist is to create elements of things that do exist, because you want the brain to associate reality somewhere in there. So you’re taking existing anatomy and you’re exaggerating it, and then you’re adding things on top of that that may never exist. But that base anatomy has to be there- it’s part of what makes it real.”
While many of his creations have been independent projects, Lerner has also designed them for commission. He can build prosthetics for film, TV, or photo shoots. He’s been working quietly on bringing independent film production to Binghamton, an industry to which his work would be an asset. He is a bit elusive about how far along in the works it is, but he expressed that whatever is done will be done in the best way possible. “When I started doing prosthetics, I aimed as high as I could. [That] doesn’t mean, necessarily, that you’re going to start at the top- I never expect that- but if you’re not reaching for the top, then where do you ever expect to be? So our goals are really, really, really high.”
While in the past, his creations have frightened the other zombies at the First Friday Zombie Walk, he doesn’t have anything planned for that day this year. However, you can try your hand at your own zombie make-up and join the procession on October 2nd. All zombies gather at Confluence Park, and the walk begins at 7pm, making a loop around downtown Binghamton. Tice recommends Fleet Street brand fake blood, or adding Methocel to your classic corn syrup and food dye to thicken it up. There’s a chance you’ll be around the next time one of Lerner’s creations goes staggering about, but what it’ll be and when it’ll appear will come as a surprise. All he revealed was that he aims to have it out sometime in October, and that “this next piece will not be a zombie, and it’ll be a lot bigger than people have seen so far.”
For more info on Tice Lerner, check out ticelerner.com.
