mona : marina abramovic's 'private archaeology'

I went to Tasmania last week for a holiday to visit some lovely friends. It was dreamy. Some highlights included going for a 1am tinny ride on the Huon River, driving past abandoned apple orchards and mountains and finally learning to appreciate stout. I also went to MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) for the first time. Set into the side of a cliff, surrounded by mist and seagulls MONA is the creation of professional gambler David Walsh. It is a Serious Art Museum that draws a huge number of tourists to Tassie and employs a large staff of curators, invigilators, assistants and hospitality workers. The museums collection of art is interesting in that it is from multiple histories and contexts. There is an Egyptian Sarcophogas displayed alongside Erwin Wurm's squishy 'Fat Car,' contemporary video works next to ancient Greek sculpture. Many of the works relate to sex, death and the body in some way. There is also an exhibition program that has hosted some amazing shows (wish I'd made it to see Matthew Barney's a little while ago) Currently on is an exhibition of Marina Abramovic's work, 'Private Archaeology,' that includes a mix of video, sound, photography, and participatory performances. On entering the museum and descending the spiral staircase into the heart of the cliff, there is an elegant bar and the sound of Abramovic reading her 'An Artists Life (Manifesto)' At this stage, I decided to sit a while and drink a beer. Many of the suggestions were amusing but apt:
'The artist must make time for long periods of solitude. An artist should suffer. The artist must develop an erotic point of view on the world. An artist should avoid falling in love with another artist. The funeral is the artist's final art piece before leaving.'



In the first few rooms there were several videos of performances created through the collaboration of Abramovic and German performance artist Ulay. This collaboration lasted over a decade and was of the type that each artists individual identity was effaced by the partnerships conceptual and aesthetic concerns. Their goal was to overcome the artistic ego. I like the way that as their partnership went on, Abramovic and Ulay began to look more and more alike. 




Abramovic/Ulay, AAA-AAA, 1977
The two artists draw breath and then yell and howl at one another over and over again. Sometimes it seems like one or the other is getting the upper hand....drowning out the others voice, or dominating. It's like an argument. Emptying the body and flaying the vocal cords, the male and female energies battle it out. 




Abramovic/Ulay, Breathing In/Breating Out, 1976
I find this work a beautiful metaphor for the destructiveness of co-dependancy in relationships. Locking mouths together Abramovic/Ulay breath one anothers air until their is no oxygen left and both artists collapse unconscious. 




Abramovic/Ulay, Rest Energy, 1980
Again, this performance really speaks to me of the fraught nature of romantic relationships. The delicate balance between love, obsession, harm and tenderness. I just finished reading 'Monkey Grip' by Helen Garner, so perhaps this theme is on my mind. In this performance the artists face one another down, delicately leaning and jostling, with the arrow aimed directly at Marina's heart. The violence is implied, possible, dependent on mutual concentration and effort.  




Marina Abramovic, Confessions, 2010
In this work, Abramovic whispers confessions and memories from her childhood to a donkey. I don't know what the donkey thought of them. They were subtitled onscreen. They seemed like a continuous dream narrative.




There was an interesting room that had drawers filled with notes, photos and observations. It was interesting that there were several photographs from Abramovic's travels in the Northern Territory and Central Australia. I wonder if she sought permission to reproduce images of the Indigenous people she photographed. I hope so. I've found the way that Abramovic has discussed Indigenous cultures to be slightly fetishistic in the past. I was interested by this performance by Ben D'Armagnac. It seems prophetic that the artist made a work about the destructive powers of water and then drowned a week later. 

After poring through this room, I took the opportunity to participate in the Abramovic Institutes 'Counting Grains of Rice' performance. Performers are given a lab coat and sound-canceling headphones, before entering a room with a long table. Along the centre is a mound of rice and black lentils. Assistants scoop a cup of grains and place them before you with a pencil and piece of paper. The goal is to tally how many of each grain. But how to do it? What kind of systematic method to use? I laid my grains out in a grid in groups of ten grains. I only lasted about 40 minutes before the futility of the task got to me. I understand that meditation is the purpose of the exercise....and it was a great experience, but I really wanted to get outta there.




Marina Abramovic, The Onion, 1996
She ate the whole onion. Tears of ouch. 




Marina Abramovic, Golden Mask, 2010
The only movement in this is the gentle rustle of the gold leaf in the breeze. What does it mean? Abramovic's characteristically hypnotic gaze is there.....but I'm not sure what the gold is for. Does it relate to her art-celebrity status? To the artistic tradition of sculpture and religious art? I don't know. 

Overall, I really enjoyed this exhibition. It included some artworks that have influenced me immensely as a performance artist. Abramovic is formidable in that she has pushed the limits of physical and mental endurance, as well as bringing performance art to the mainstream.

Here are some of my other faves from MONA:




Forget who this is by.




Wim Delvoye, Cloaca, 2012
Aye, the poop machine. It smelt horrible. It was kind of awesome to see the 'food' swirling around in the glass stomachs. Felt bad for the person who had to sit this room though. 






Forget who this video work was by....but I like it. Trippy.




And finally, there was a live stream of Christian Boltanski's studio playing in a little bunker right next to where you take the ferry. Which I thought was AWESOME! 


'Private Archaeology' on until October 5th.
MONA 
655 Main Road, Berriedale TAS 7011

traces and patterns

I did this performance in Malaysia last year. It involved me cracking, pulling apart and arranging kilos and kilos of mangosteens. They are a beautiful fruit. Each mangosteen has exactly the same number of soft segments inside as there are petals on the top of the fruit. The outside is tough and woody. 

It was an enjoyable performance. Mangosteens have a really nourishing, sweet, milky smell, which filled the room... and the activity was slow and contemplative.

There was also a video of this work, but I lost it on a rogue USB, so all thats left of this performance now are a few photographs. 


 
 
 

The pattern made by the segments reminds me of a reflexology path. Reflexology seemed to be very popular in Malaysia. Lots of the Buddhist temples featured reflexology paths; that visitors would walk along to promote health and healing. 

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. 








 
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. 






Paul McCarthy, Painter, 1995







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.






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. 






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.






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.














































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.


 







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

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.








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

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. 

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. 







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. 

19th biennale of sydney : arts events and corporate sponsorship

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.

gertrude contemporary / discipline lecture no 8

I went to a really interesting lecture last week. It was part of a series of lectures at Gertrude Contemporary that have been programmed between the gallery and Discipline art journal.
The lecture was delivered by Denise de Silva, Professor in Ethics at Queen Mary University in London. 

Black Feminist Poethics: Toward the End of the World (As We Know It)

“Would the Poet’s intention emancipate the Category of Blackness from the scientific and historical ways of knowing which produced it in the first place, which has been the Black Feminist Critic worksite?

Perhaps Blackness emancipated from science and history would wonder about another praxis and wander away and beyond the World, guiding the Feminist to an imagining of other ways of knowing and doing. From without the World as we know it, gazing at the Horizon of The Thing – where the imagination plays unchained – such a Black Feminist Poethic could expose the whole field of possibilities for knowing and doing.

Towards this End, as a preliminary move, this talk returns to the task some call the critique of representation, with an account that confronts juridical (the authorised total violence of the police and the courts) and economic (the expropriation of total value from indigenous lands and enslaved labour) moments of racial subjugation.”

-Denise De Silva


I found Denise De Silva's discussion of how capitalist wealth has and continues to exploit labour along racial lines very interesting. The fact is that the current economic state is built off the exploitation of people of colour. 
In America, the munificent wealth some people enjoy has at its basis the colonizing of land followed by the exploitation of slave labour. 
Likewise in Australia. We are a country that has built ourselves from the colonization of land and the marginalization and mistreatment of indigenous people. Australia's wealth in the global economy comes from gathering and trading resources from these lands. For people familiar with Postcolonial critique and history these things would be obvious. But the overarching ways that labour and land are used and exploited by capitalist structures can go overlooked. If you want to look at issues of equality and feminism it seems vital to consider all the ways in which people are made un-equal within society. If you want to consider whose subjectivity is being considered most important in the way politicians make policy, it's crucial to consider how racist divisions of labour have been and continue to be, within society. When you look at Australia's current political situation it isn't difficult to see that our government plays on people's fear and racist tendencies, particularly in the case of policy around refugees.

The lecture was inspiring and I highly recommend reading this article by Denise de Silva. I plan on reading some of the books she refers to in the article as well.