Exhibition Hall - Oscar Wilde

History - In 1884, Oscar Wilde visited York twice on his lecture tour. First on the 31st January 1884, and again on the 9th October 1884. He gave two lectures at each event at the Exhibition Hall which once stood roughly where the York Art Gallery stands today. The first lecture included the talks “The House Beautiful” and “Personal Impressions of America”, and the latter included the talks “The Value of Art in Modern Life” and “Dress”.  During his visits he stayed at the former Harker’s Hotel which stood on the site where Betty’s Tea Rooms is today. During one of his visits he was invited as one of a number of VIPs to a show at the York Theatre Royal. One of the other VIPs was an old university acquaintance of Wilde’s, the then Liberal MP for York, Frank Lockwood. Frank Lockwood would later be the prosecutor in Wilde’s infamous gross indecency trial in 1895. 

Candy Floss Queer

For C.33 (Oscar Wilde)

I stood calmly in your cell awaiting a divine message, 

an epigram of my own, whispered across an age, 

maybe my hair looked nice, you never said, 

I closed my eyes and waited, I looked out of your window, 

no, I didn’t, it was too high, so I settled with looking 

at the same sky through the same bars for a bit, 

that’ll do for now, won’t it?


I stood quietly by your grave awaiting reassurance, 

a curled & wicked warmth gripping my shoulder in affirmation, 

I dressed up for the occasion, and I wrote, leaning 

on your perspex tomb’s tomb, 

just another boy in a graveyard with a stranger’s lipstick on his collar, 

I wrote a play somewhat adjacent to one of yours, you would’ve hated it, 

I wouldn’t have turned back the clock to see you there, 

but I would’ve gone as far back as being able to feel the cold 

embrace of the stone that hides you, protects you, protects us now.


I’ve been to one of the streets where you lived, I sat 

where I knew you’d sat on the grass, my arse indent 

significantly larger than yours I’m sure, 

I couldn’t see in through the windows, so I closed my eyes 

and pictured purple, gold, brocade, I’ve got curtains like that, 

I pictured a slew of young men draped in loose fabric, 

barely covered, 

you can’t be coquettish when all you’re wearing is a filigree.

Maybe it wasn’t entirely your slew. 

I finally found your prison door in a queer museum, 

and all I wanted to do in that moment was to slowly adjust 

my stance, lean forward, wait until the staff member looked away, and 

Lick it. 

The door. Cold against my tongue, and smoother than I had anticipated. 

I wore velvet that day, and your collected works were on sale everywhere, 

they were unspeakably beautiful, they would’ve barely stood out among my other seven. 

The door didn’t taste of anything. 

I’m not sure what I was expecting.  

I live so much in awe of you that your door should’ve tasted of candy floss, I might not have been surprised, probably someone stood behind me vaping in the Queer Museum

Maybe you were more surprising in life than in death, 

the orchestration of your bijou legacy has been dreadfully handled, 

and I can’t be doing it any favours now. 

It is what it is, as you were what you were, and.. I. 

Prompt

At this site, close your eyes and feel the space around you as though it is a body with which you can interact. How does it respond to your presence? Flirt with the air, stroke the ground, tickle the walls. Run your hands over the stone, imagining it is the object of your desire. Whisper sweet nothings into the crevices, imagining they are whispered back. Let the space become your lover for a moment, inviting a play of sensuality between you and your surroundings. How does the space yield, resist, or reciprocate? Stand still and breathe deeply, sensing any subtle shifts in how you feel as you move within the space, in dialogue with its structure. You are in a well-trodden tango with your lover, the elements at play in the space move around you, like music washing over you.

Now, write as though the space is responding to your movements. How does it respond to your affections, your touch, your gaze? Imagine the walls breathe, the floors pulse with energy, the air thickens with intimacy. How does this space reflect the desires you project upon it? Does it reject your advances, or does it invite you deeper into its embrace? Explore the interactions between you and the site, detailing how the space mirrors your longing, your needs, and your fears. You are in complete control, and you have permission from the space to dominate. What is it saying to you now?