Fun Comes Bouncing Back

HOWARD STANLEY, a promising young eccentric in a city which has become bare of them, is causing confusion at the top end of Collins Street.
He has put a poster in the window of No 105, the Paraphernalia Art Gallery, and it says:
"I, Howard Stanley, will do anything, to the best of my ability, to or for anybody, as long as it is not hugely illegal or dangerous to the participant or myself. Payment for this service is cheque which has been returned to me from my bank marked either Refer to Drawer or Present Again."
Inside the art gallery he sits happily at a table right next to the window where he can look out at passers-by who pause, read his notice in disbelief and then gaze in at him.
What is the man up to? You can see the surprise appear on the faces of everyone who reads the notice. Is he mad or something?
Here is a man called Howard Stanley who' offers to do anything you want him to, provided you pay him a dud cheque. The poster is specific on this.
A further part of it says that if your cheque is "paid", it will be returned to you, and the deal is off. The good folk of Melbourne, reading this notice, don't understand it and don't want to. You can tell that at once.
They've got enough troubles just bustling down windy Collins Street, or thinking of the cat or their tax. It is only some of the young who laugh. The rest look puzzled or angry and hurry on, as if they had stumbled on a murder and don't want to be involved.
What on earth is Howard Stanley up to? Exactly what he says.
For example: You can walk into 105 Collins Street and say: "I want you to stand on the top, of Nauru House, waving the flag of Monaco and singing The Pilgrims' Chorus from Tannhauser."
Mr. Stanley will take your cheque for any amount and agree to your request ... Once the cheque has bounced, he will carry out the agreement, provided you meet any expense such as the cost of a Monaco flag.
Yes, but why? To understand this, you need to know a bit 'about Mr. Stanley, who is 25, lives at Prahran and describes himself as a "performer".
You may recall that he made news last September when, as a part-time deliverer of cakes, he handed out printed notices to his customers announcing that he would sing 'Clap Hands, Here Comes the Brockhoff Baker' repeatedly as he went on his rounds.
The public didn't want to know about that either.
He is also the person who organised The Mongrel Dog Show at La Mama. He had a cast of 24 (12 human and 12 canine) and they came on to the . stage without rehearsal and then Just did whatever they thought fit.
Anyone who has closely followed Mr. Stanley's amazing career will agree that his art reached unprecedented heights in a show called Kabarate which he organised for the Flying Trapeze restaurant in Fitzroy.
One of his songs was a big hit. It was called 'Pick My Nose, Or A Song', and he delivered it himself to a fascinated audience: "I can pick my nose, It is very close / To me, it is / Can you see my nostrils beaming out at you, / My hair, my holes, my God, too good to be true".
Yes. Mr. Stanley is probably the most promising theatrical eccentric we have seen since the young Barry Humphries. What he is doing now In Collins Street is holding a happening, to which he has given a lot of careful thought.
He sees it all as theatre. He sees everything as theatre, and everyone as a participant. Even the puzzled people who hurry away are playing their parts.
He has isolated four reasons he should accept dud cheques for his services.
The first is that he says he cannot understand value for money in terms of ideas. But he can ; understand the reverse that money can have a negative value, and that a cheque written for $5000 or 5 is still worthless if it bounces.
His second reason is that he can give-people the only chance they will probably have in their lives to exercise total power over another human being (that's him).
Thirdly, his happening is a comment on the money side of the art world, which he describes as incredibly money-oriented.
"A lot of artists shy away from the art world because they can't come to terms with the business side," he says. "It's a pity the happening does not exist in a really expensive gallery where wealthy people buy investments and not the work of art itself."
And the fourth reason is that he's curious. He wants to see what people will do when confronted with this situation. "It's interesting that some people who have come in to talk about my poster have been apologetic," he says.
For various reasons they won't, take part in the happening. They've got a new overdraft or a new bank manager, and they're scared they will blow their financial credibility."
Yesterday was Mr. Stanley's third day of the happening. By lunchtime he had received only one request. A man gave him a cheque, allegedly dud, to go on a 10-day rice fast whatever that means. Is there any money in this for Mr. Stanley?
He says not. He's not connected with the gallery or the present show there, and is being allowed to use the premises through the kindness of the proprietor, Paul Kraft.
He doesn't expect many more passers-by to participate. I think he'd attract much more custom if, in addition to having his poster in the window, he stood at the door and sang 'Pick My Nose, Or A Song'.
Can't you picture a scene like that? I don't think the good people of Collins Street would actually faint but I'd love to see the looks-on their faces.