About Me

My photo
performance and video artist living in footscray. also enjoy drinking, eating and sleeping.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

art as a verb : MUMA

"I am for an art that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum. I am for an art that grows up not knowing it is art at all, an art given the chance of having a starting point of zero. I am for an art that involves itself with the everyday crap and still comes out on top. I am for an art that imitates the human, that is comic if necessary, or violent, or whatever is necessary. I am for an art that takes its form from the lines of life, that twists and extends impossibly and accumulates and spits and drips and is sweet and stupid as life itself."

-Statement for the catalogue of an exhibition at Martha Jackson Gallery, "Environments, Situations, Spaces," May-June 1961, in which the first form of the Store was presented.


There is an amazing, clever, exhilarating exhibition on at the Monash University Museum of Art at the moment. "Art as a Verb" looks at a number of young Australian artists and juxtaposes their performance-based, active art practices with works by iconic performance artists of the 1960s and 70s such as Yoko Ono, Vito Acconci and Marina Abramovic. In this way, art that intersects with daily life, that is visceral, bodily and physical, can be seen on a continuum. The contemporary trend towards creating work that is social, inclusive and community based, can be seen in relation to it's predecessors and influences. 

After entering the cool, low-slung glass door of MUMA, the first artwork you see is Official Welcome, 2001 by Andrea Fraser. It is a video/performance work in which Fraser parodies speeches given at exhibition opening events. She first acts out the role of the curator praising the beauty, scale, and universality of 'the artist's' work. She describes visiting the artist in his studio which was full of artwork so challenging that she could not fathom the meaning of it. Then she becomes the artist, inarticulate, egotistical and unable to talk about his work. Finally, she takes the role of the critic and gushes about the artists vision and skill (you can see the artwork in question in the background of the video; it appears to be a multi-coloured installation, as well as a few photographs on the wall.) I found Fraser's performance pretty entertaining, funny and true to the self-congratulatory nature of exhibition openings. It illustrated the narcissism, dependancy and lack of honest discourse that can exist between artist, curator and critic. 


 photo IMG_4282_zpsaea39bde.jpg





 
Petrol station everyday of 2011, 2011-12, by Kenny Pittock is a photographic work in which the artist does exactly what the title says, and photographs a petrol station near their house every day for an entire year. Accompanying the photoographs is a statement by the artist describing the difficulties of the project, being unable to leave town or holiday for a full year and the toll this takes on relationships. "I had to cut short hot dates and once devastatingly turned down a free holiday with my girlfriend. It was funny for a while but eventually gave the impression I'd never prioritise her over my art, which is a truly difficult problem to overcome." I like the simplicity and straightforwardness of this work. It's about performing a task, the same task, every day to see what happens. 


 photo IMG_4291_zpsc95dad33.jpg  photo IMG_4289_zps09f9ce8c.jpg



Paul McCarthy, Painter, 1995



 photo IMG_4297_zps0f8dab20.jpg



One of the photographic works included was The Kiss Part 3, 2011 by Anastasia Klose. The image documents a project she undertook in which she offered free kisses to passersby. I find this work romantic, although it is staged, the image gives a sense of intimacy and romance.


 photo IMG_4303_zps88a8b258.jpg



Christian Thompson's Desert Slippers, 2006, is a visceral performance that shows a traditional ritual of the Bidjara people to whom Thompson belongs. In the video, Thompson stands opposite his father who after wiping his hands through his armpits, presses them upon his first-born son's shoulders. The gesture is then repeated, back and forth, between father and son. 


 photo IMG_4305_zps48e69013.jpg



The last two rooms of the show focus on performances from the 1960s and 70s. Firstly, Stick a Round, 1975, is a work in which Jill Scott has herself taped to the wall of the gallery. In this way, her body takes the place of the art object as something to be eyeballed and observed. During the show at MUMA, this work was re-enacted live by contemporary performance artist, Mira Oesterwegher.


 photo IMG_4314_zps3f064692.jpg



One of the pieces that I found most fascinating to observe in the flesh was Teching Hsieh's One Year Performances. These five works are perhaps a benchmark of the extremes to which a performance artist may or may not be willing to go. In Cage Piece, 1978, Hsieh stays inside a cage of 3.5 x 2.7 x 2.4m for a full year, without any form of entertainment or diversion. A friend delivers meals to him daily. Rope Piece, 1983, involves him tying himself to fellow performance artist Linda Montano with a 2.4m rope and remaining attached together for a full year. They must remain in the same room, but are not permitted to touch one another. I'm interested in learning more about Linda Montano's work. She completed this work with Hsieh, a very harrowing one it would have been too. To never be alone. Apparently she made performances with Annie Sprinkle too....so I'll have to research her a bit more. Perhaps the most extreme of the One Year Performances is Outdoor Piece, 1981, in which Teching Hsieh does not enter a building, train, car, bus or tent for an entire year. He moves around New York with a backpack and a sleeping bag and sleeps wherever he can. What is remarkable about these work is not just the intense level of commitment this artist must have to his practice, but also the sparing way that they are documented. Each piece has a contract detailing the 'rules' of the experiment which the artist has signed, as well as one photograph.


 photo IMG_4320_zpsa5f1a80e.jpg

 photo IMG_4316_zpsba7a098e.jpg

 photo IMG_4319_zpsb802bacb.jpg







































The final room of the exhibition contains TV monitors with a number of B&W video performances on display. Most notable among them is Art must be beautiful, artist must be beautiful, 1975 by Marina Abramovic and Theme Song, 1973 by Vito Acconci. The later involves Acconci repeatedly imploring the viewer to come be with him, to hang out, to touch him, with him humming along to 'People are Strange' by The Doors and smoking darts. Pretty approachable and enjoyable and iconic. Every performance artist is familiar with the influence of these two artists. Even the simplistic style of filming they used is fetishized in contemporary art.


 photo IMG_4330_zps28c22ba6.jpg 

 photo IMG_4334_zpsa65b935b.jpg





'Art as a Verb' 
3 October - 16 December 2014
MUMA 
Monash University, Caulfield campus
900 Dandenong Road
Caulfield East, VIC 3145
Australia



Sunday, July 13, 2014

photographs of a : mtc : antechamber productions and daniel keene

Went to a really great play last week called Photographs of A at the MTC. It looked at the story of Augustine, the subject of a famous collection of photographs taken by Dr Jean-Martin Charcot a neurologist from the 1800s. Charcot worked and lectured at Salpetriere mental asylum in Paris and is most famous for theorising the phenomenon of 'female hysteria,' an ailment that was believed to be caused by the movement and wandering of the womb within the body. Charcot believed almost 50% of all women suffered from hysteria at some stage in their lives and was interested in documenting and treating this illness that included symptoms as far ranging as: faintness, nervousness, sexual desire, insomnia, fluid retention, heaviness in the abdomen, muscle spasm, shortness of breath, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, and 'a tendency to cause trouble.' In extreme cases, women would be forced to undergo a surgical hysterectomy to remove the 'cause' of their sickness. The photographs Charcot took were used as a tool of treatment and diagnosis, as Charcot believed identifying and visually cataloging the symptoms of hysteria would lead him to understanding of how to treat it. There has however been speculation about the highly staged appearance of the images and the degree to which the relationship between Charcot and Augustine would have involved manipulation, sexual abuse, bribery and coercion. Charcot seemed interested in capturing the facial expressions and details of Augustine during fits, which he would 'induce' via hypnoses. He also conducted public lectures or performances where he would invite aristocrats, doctors and artists to observe Augustine during these episodes.


 photo augustinetwo_zps934d168b.jpg


 photo e5fb22f5-31a5-41ef-aafe-6a1a16a2bbbf_zps19ea6b4e.jpg


At the end of the day, Charcot is a mystery, while Augustine is still a mystery, but she exists in the images. They are described in so many university lectures as an example of the way that photography has been used as a diagnostic tool, to Other and to capture suffering and violate an individual.

The play paints a picture of the challenges and suffering that would have faced a woman institutionalised at
Salpetriere quite well. The monologue flows from Augustine (played excellently by Helen Morse) describing childhood, losing her family, making friends and her confusion about what it is that Charcot wants from her in photographing and exhibiting her. She describes receiving better food and a private room in exchange for her performances, coupled with sadness at feeling alienated from her fellow inmates. Augustine wonders at what it is that people mean by coming to observe her, why they want to witness suffering, and what Charcot's motivations are. It's very sad to hear her describe Marie, a friend who she used to share a room with and sleep beside, who disappears and presumably dies. The monologue flows, with many phrases repeating themselves, "There is something behind my face," "I am going to scream." The piece ends with Augustine escaping disguised as a man, which is what history records to have happened. It leaves me wondering how she must have lived out the rest of her life....what she did next.



 
"She’s been the subject of a couple of films and a number of plays because theatre people have been drawn to her because it’s really about the nature of performance in a way: when she was having her fits and strange states in front of people, were they real? Was she really going through that or was she performing those things because that was what was required from her? So the piece is very much about the nature of performance.’’
-Daniel Keene



 photo augustineperformance_zpsd999fa10.jpg

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

mira ooesterwegher : a bodily negotiation at knight street art space

I went to a real interesting performance in my own neighbourhood last week (it was on the same street as my house so it would've been a pretty piss-poor effort not to take a look.)
The work was by Melbourne performance artist, Mira Oosterwegher whose work seems to use suspension of the body as a way of looking at control, power struggles and the way bodies sit and move in space. The gallery (Knight Street Art Space) has a large glass front and Mira Oosterwegher's body was visible suspended with an array of straps and cords from the outside of the space. A sign on the door instructed viewers to turn a lever upon entering, in order to raise or lower the performer's body.....kind of like some sort of medieval, mob-controlled torture device. 


 photo miraooesterwegherbodilynegotioation_zps2919c655.jpg



For much of the time the performer seemed poised but in discomfort. She lay with her hands behind her back, rearranged her hair and twitched and wriggled. The moments, when you could see her muscles buck and spasm and she swayed and rocked back and forth were fascinating. There's something interesting about seeing a body in this way- natural but not natural, presented for the viewer over a length of time, but entirely under the audiences' control. The performance lasted for around two (possibly three) hours. 



 photo miraooesterwegherbodilynegotioation4_zps9e58830e.jpg



One thing that I didn't like so much was that at certain points later in the performance Mira responded to people in the audience (who were evidently people known to her) asking if she wanted them to release her or lower her. 
This really highlighted for me how important some degree of theatrical concentration and staging is to performance art. I think I prefer performances that have less interaction with audience members, and have that kind of awkward tension to them maintained. Intervention into a dangerous or risky performance should only really happen if the danger is truly life threatening, although I know that in a lot of great performances this intervention is essential and the main point of the work, say with Marina Abramovic or Chris Burden's work.  

Here's how the work was described by the artist:

"Performing an action or repeating a gesture invites an examination, raising questions around subscribed meaning and the interactions between the embodied subject and cultural interpretations. Repetitive movement is both machine-like and the basis of learning and labour. A Bodily Negotiation explores this fraught balancing act: while we are the masters of our own bodies and their physicality, we are also unavoidably and powerfully acted on by the spaces we inhabit."



I've being checking out some of Mira Ooesterwegher's other work online
This video in particular, of a work entitled The Weight of Nobody, is awesome. 

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

19th biennale of sydney : arts events and corporate sponsorship



 photo IMG_2014_zps88e9badb.jpg


Alexander Kosolapov, McLenin's, 1991, exhbited at Saatchi Gallery 2013




It has come to light recently that the 19th Biennale of Sydney receives funding from Transfield, the company responsible for running offshore detention centers for the Australian Government. The policy in Australia, brought in by John Howard's government, of imprisoning refugees for lengthy periods while their claims are processed has meant that there have been escalating breaches of human rights. It is essentially a policy designed to delay and dehumanise refugees seeking asylum in Australia, all the while pandering to the  xenophobic, racist opinions of some members of the public. There have been numerous problems in the detention centers, such as insufficient space, staff and support services, mental health issues and suicide attempts, separation of family members and recently, the death of Reza Berati on February 17th who was being held inside the Manus Island detention center. A few months ago PM Tony Abott legislated that staff working in these detention centers had to refer to asylum seekers as 'detainees,' rather than the previously used 'clients;' which I think really sums up the approach Australia is taking in treating people who are fleeing war-torn countries, as criminals. 

When it recently became public knowledge that Transfield, who operate and profit from detention centers at Manus Island and Nauru, were Biennale of Sydney's major sponsor, 28 of the 37 artists involved wrote a letter expressing concern about this arrangement. Since then 5 artists have withdrawn from the Biennale altogether. 

They are:
Libia Castro
Olafur Olafsson
Charlie Sofo
Gabrielle de Vietri
Ahmet Ogut

I respect this decision deeply as I think they've made the right choice. If you are engaged in making art, and in particular art that aims to say something socially or politically, about humanity, social justice or the xenophobic attitudes people have, then you really can't be collecting your pay-cheque from a company that runs offshore prisons for asylum seekers. Or if you do, maybe your art just doesn't mean that much. Intention, ideas and engagement are  important to art making. 
All of that said, I think this is a problematic issue, because tonnes of these large-scale art events, like the Biennale of Sydney, receive corporate sponsorship. And you can bet there are plenty of corporations engaging in immoral, shady activity. There is such a huge focus in these events on spending a large budget too; to get AV equipment, video, large installations, so that the audience enjoys the sensory experience of the festival / blockbuster exhibition / Biennale / WHITE NIGHT *cough* 

Anyway, I feel that the statements that Biennale of Sydney have made justifying their decision to continue with the Transfield sponsorship are very feeble. It goes to show that all the discussion about art practices being socially/politically engaged are just a load of words. Though I always have in the past, I wont be going this year. Fuck the Biennale of Sydney.