Shia LaBeouf Assaulted Amid Performance At Los Angeles Gallery

Does LaBeouf have a limit of what he's willing to accept for art?

At the point when Hollywood-sweetheart cum-perseverance entertainer Shia LaBeouf uncovered that a woman assaulted him on Valentine's Day amid his quiet #IAMSORRY showing this year, a few people heaved with dismay while others scarcely raised a brow. All things considered, LaBeouf's unusual open conduct recently made it hard to recognize if this was one more stunt for the media, an art performance, or the admission of real rape.

The Winter 2014 issue of Dazed & Confused revealed the assault details. In it, using email, LaBeouf depicted the life-altering occasion that occurred on February 14th earlier this year:

"One lady who accompanied her boyfriend, who was outside when this occurred, spent 10 minutes hitting and whipping my legs before she stripped my dress and continued to assault me," LaBeouf composed. "It was not good, not only for me but her boyfriend too. Since it was Valentine's Day and my home was in the display for the term of the occasion, my girl was also in line to see me" he proceeded.

"There were many individuals waiting behind the line when the woman exited with tousled hair and smeared lipstick," LaBeouf likewise announced, making one wonder: for what reason did LaBeouf fail to put up a fight or cause a scene, and for what reason did nobody in the display consider halting the sexual wrongdoer, apparently still on the loose? In any case, no, LaBeouf stayed quiet amid the episode. He remained quiet after as well. He stood with his execution prop, a brown paper sack, which had "I am not famous anymore" written on it, solidly over the top his head. 

The affirmations are undoubtedly aggravating. Artists like Yoko Ono and Marina Abramović have placed their own lives in control of gatherings of people on numerous events. In authentic pieces, for example, Ono's Cut Piece (1964) and Abramovic's Rhythm 0 (1974), both artists accepted possible positions and gave scissors, blades, and other conceivably destructive articles, welcoming their groups of onlookers to utilize them openly on their bodies. In any case, nothing as awful as an assault ever came to pass for them.

But, regardless of the amount LaBeouf will languish over his specialty, his endeavors dependably appear to be more much the same as (individual performing artist and fellow actor) James Franco's edgy mission for creative realness than Ono and Abramović's artistic aims.