What does your bottom mean to you? What is the significance of your rear end? No, this is not Porn 101, but rather one of the many topics that the Nigerian painter and photographer Ike Udé explores in his exhibit “Beyond Decorum,” currently on display in the Sert Gallery in the Carpenter Center.

Udé’s “Project Rear” consists of a series of six toilet seats, one collapsible chair and one briefcase imprinted with brightly colored reproductions of Udé’s rear end—the high art version of traditional copy room mischief. And in case you were wondering, Udé asserts that one’s bottom symbolizes virtue, utility, societal restrictions and security.

Year after year, the most provocative works of art are those which confront taboos of the period in which they were created, art through which an artist seeks to challenge his society’s ideals or the parameters of its concepts of propriety. And although Udé’s exhibit certainly does qualify as questionable—based on its seemingly gratuitously pornographic content and its direct confrontations with modern society’s notion of beauty and normality—his pieces are intellectually provocative and pose worthy questions.

Much of Udé’s exhibit centers around the self portrait, as Udé, a Nigerian transvestite who describes himself as being educated by the night club scene of the 1980s, splashes his elaborately made-up face across mock-ups of movie posters and covers of famous magazines. The utilization of such staples of modern pop culture forces the observer to perceive the publications as independent works of art, modified by Udé.

When one looks at the altered covers of Mirabella, Harper’s Bazaar and Town and Country, the construction of the cover art becomes the central focus. The clarity, color and composition of the image is what commands the onlooker’s attention, rather than the headlines emblazoned along the margins of the page. Udé has also modified the headlines of the articles contained within the magazines to evoke the main themes present within his entire body of art work. Such fictitious articles include: “A Short History of Beauty,” and “Real Men Wear Makeup.”

Udé also utilizes the self-portrait in the “He Series,” a collection of three photographs of Udé assuming provocative poses in full costume and makeup against a stark white background. Udé’s hair is teased into a bouffant, and his eyes and cheeks are painted in a dramatic rainbow of hues, producing an overall appearance in which Udé appears to be channeling Diana Ross.

However, due to the spartan nature of the subject matter in these three photographs, the observer is forced to consider Udé’s meticulously ornate cosmetics as an artistic realization, as well as the entire process of transforming himself from a male into a female. This latter focus is especially dramatic in a photograph in which Udé’s upper torso is bare, exposing the male chest and unshaven armpits that still exist but are disguised by the feminine face, hair and posture.

The central focus of the exhibit as one enters is two oblong glass cases in the middle of the room. The case on the left houses five immaculately folded Oxford shirts, their collars bedecked with brightly hued neckties, just as one might see in any ubiquitous department store. The case on the right displays five pairs of women’s dress shoes, again, arranged as if for sale. These accoutrements may seem mundane at first glance, but upon closer inspection, one finds that lewd text from erotic personal ads has been superimposed over the designer labels.