I hate performance art. I think it’s a ridiculous waste of time. Most of the work in the genre reads like an excuse to ogle well formed, young (nude) bodies executing thinly veiled operations of sex. Except, when it is not.
Popular culture has taught me that richwhitepeople are on the freaky side, but in ‘real life’, certain individuals have managed to launder their voyeuristic fantasies through sanctioned spaces. In fact, the system is so well designed that many in this group write off their fetishist tendencies through ‘membership fees’ or ‘charitable donations’. But, when the force of the work manages to reveal something beyond the spectacle, the freaky shit doesn’t matter as much.
As an artist working in performance my conservative views make me passionately critical of the medium. As a student, I am compelled to perpetual investigation, and have been introduced to 3 questions with the uncanny ability to multiply. This essay is an attempt to reacquaint myself with those original queries.
1. What is performance art?
I remember the first time I heard that question. Unfortunately, it was not my inner voice. It came from individuals I respect, regular people, if you will, people who ‘practiced’ too. But the message was always from the outside. Here I was attempting describe what I do/did/am doing, but I had never asked myself what I was causing to happen through performance.
Fortunately, we have the benefit of human relationships as a means to educate ourselves. Perhaps that’s what defines performance, a molding of the dialogue space. Manzella and Watkins assert that performance “is not an object but an interaction between artist and viewers”. The completion of a score is dependent upon drawing multiple perspectives together to a focal point. All art has an inherent capability for this. The distinction of performance art, however, allows the artist to participate in this experience as the focus in real time. These are extremely satisfying moments. I’m interested in finding additional ways to discover this experience again (and again…). But as much I involve myself in the process of performance, I do relish the making of things. Objects extend the broadcast of a message in ways that the ephemeral cannot.
2. What is documentation?
I did not document my first performances. Friends (and strangers) armed with cell phones served nicely, and, when those were unavailable, the institution(s) made their records. I had yet to think beyond the performance itself. I believe that ‘the moment’ is where performance work actually exists. As I begrudgingly added more performance to my practice, I became increasingly committed to the present as a natural space for performance. But art is a peculiar kind of history making that relies upon physical evidence to mark its territory beyond the moment. Besides, what about the individuals who might only access performance work through the lens of history? It seems that documentation could be more than a still or moving image. I believe that at its essence, documentation is the extension of the interaction created by the artist and the audience.
3. How can documentation be used as a site for production?
Photographs and video have established themselves as the primary means of performance documentation, so much so that viewers read it as the performance itself. But the record does not supplant the action- it is a distinct entity. What I hope to preserve, in my making of documentation, is that distinction between the performance and the record. This allows an area for interaction/imagination that I also wish to preserve and extend. Voicemail oral histories, living archives, on-shelf artifacts housed in resin tablets, database entries, artist-developed library cataloging systems – these are but a few of the offerings that can inspire the evolution of performance art. This kind of record inherently forces work beyond the white cube, the ivory tower and the private collection, perhaps even towards class transcendence.
I wonder, how do I create experiences that are both exclusive and comprehensive? ‘Doings’ that are both momentary and enduring? I believe the answer is found in the practice- exploring this tension fully so that more questions follow.
While richwhitepeople cannot claim singular ownership of high culture (although they try), I do believe they should assume fiscal responsibility. I am striving to create a level of exchange that acknowledges the idea of stewardship and authors a concept of exclusivity that can actually exist in an age of digital reproduction.
Every conversation is chemistry, an interaction between elements that continues a pattern of change. Culture-makers use this phenomenon as workable material in building points of contact. Although my thoughts about performance art are firmly in the side-eye position, that does not negate the medium’s ability to accomplish this outcome. And, while it’s true that my gregarious social personality provides a certain advantage to presenting my body as art, it is deftly balanced by my own insecurities. It is this tension that propels investigation- one which questions everything about performance and the audience that these actions build.
Bibliography
The Artist Is Present. Dir. Marina Abramovic. Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York. 24 May 2010. Performance.
Green, Penelope. "The Serial Sleepover Artist." The New York Times 13 Apr. 2011, Final ed., Home & Garden sec.: D1+. Print.
Jacob, Mary Jane., and Michelle Grabner, eds. The Studio Reader: on the Space of Artists. Chicago: University of Chicago, 2010. Print.
Kenya Eats a Cracker. Dir. Kenya (Robinson). 2010 DUMBO Arts Festival, Brooklyn. 25 Sept. 2010. Performance.
Manzella, Christina, and Alex Watkins. "Performance Anxiety: Performance Art in Twenty-first Century Catalogs and Archives." Art Documentation 30.1 (2011): 28-32. Coming of Age In The Library. Wordpress, 29 Nov. 2011. Web. 12 Dec. 2011. .
Rosler, Martha. ""Lookers, Buyers, Dealers, and Makers: Thoughts on Audience"" Ed. Alexander Alberro and Blake Stimson. Institutional Critique: an Anthology of Artists' Writings. Cambridge, MA: MIT, 2009. 206-33. Print.
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