Friday, February 09, 2007

Tarred & Feathered

I've now sketched out my thumbnail sketch onto the large canvas. This is so I can stay true to my original concept and composition. Although I did rework the drawing some, changed some individual gestures and also added another figure. The next step now is turning these circle heads into actual people. It took a little time, but I was able to track down the costumes and props I need. And it also took some convincing(begging/pleading) to find enough willing bodies to coming model for me so I can get some photos. But now that I have both (costumes and victims), we plan to shoot some photos this weekend for this piece. I'll give an update on Monday.

Here is an except from 'History of the Church' where Joseph describes what happened on that night in 1832:

"On the 24th of March; the twins before mentioned, which had been sick of the measles for some time, caused us to be broken of our rest in taking care of them, especially my wife, in the evening I told her she had better retire to rest with one of the children, and I would watch with the sickest sicker child.
In the night she told me I had better lie down on the trundle bed, and I did so, and was soon after awoke awakened by her screaming Murder! when I found myself going out of the door, in the hands of about a dozen men; some of whose hands were in my hair, and some had hold of my shirt, drawers and limbs, The foot of the trundle bed was towards the door, leaving only room enough for the door to swing open.
My wife heard a gentle tapping on the windows which she then took no particular notice of (but which was unquestionably design'd designed for ascertaining whether or not we were all asleep,) and soon after the mob burst open the door and surrounded the bed in an instant, and, as I said, the first I knew I was going out of the door in the hands of an infuriated mob.
I made a desperate struggle, as I was forced out, to extricate myself, but only cleared one leg, with which I made a pass at one man, and he fell on the door steps. I was immediately confined overpowered again; and they swore by God G—, they would kill me if I did not be still, which quieted me.
As they passed around the house with me, the fellow that I kicked came to me and thrust his hand into my face, his hand, all covered with blood, into my face (for I hit him on the nose,) and with an exulting horse hoarse laugh, muttered,—"Ge … gee … God dam ye G—d—ye; I'I fix ye.
They then seized me by the throat, and held on till I lost my breath.
After I came to, as they passed along with me, about thirty rods from the house, I saw Elder Rigdon stretched out on the ground, whither they had dragged him by his heels. I supposed he was dead.
I began to plead with them, saying, you will have mercy and spare my life, I hope:—To which they replied, "God dam ye G—d—ye; call on yer God for help, we'll show ye no mercy:"...
...They ran back and fetched the bucket of tar, when one exclaimed with an oath "God dam it,—let us tar up his mouth;" and they tried to force the tar paddle into my mouth; I twisted my head around, so that they could not; and they cried out, "God dam ye“ G—d—ye, hold up yer head and let us give ye some tar."

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