When you mention performance art to people, you
get interesting reactions, mostly 'well, that's not art.'
And well, it's not a Monet, a Picasso, a Warhol,
or even Dali's lobster phone.
But it IS art, like theatre is art, like music is
art, like anything creative is art.
Art can come in all forms, and it can touch your
soul or irritate the shit out of you.
Like beauty, it is in the eye of the
beholder.
Yesterday, on a gloriously sunny winter Saturday,
I headed to Sydney to participate in some performance art.
I was definitely well out of my comfort zone. I
don't like participatory exercises, they make me cringe and irritable. If I am
at the theatre and instructed to participate my initial thoughts are I paid YOU
to entertain ME, not the other way round. I am not even a fan of clapping in
unison at concerts (although I will always join in vocally), mostly as I am a
rock snob, but that's a whole other story.
So why did I head all the way to Sydney to
participate in something that would most certainly make me feel
uncomfortable?
Marina Abramovic.
Marina, at 69, is up there with Yoko Ono as a
avant-garde performance artist. Over the years she has pulled off some crazy
feats in the name of art. But she also has contributed great heart and soul to
the world of art. There is something enigmatic and charismatic about her, and I
find myself very drawn to her and what she does...even if some of it makes me
feel uncomfortable.
When I heard she was doing a residency as part of
the Kalder Public Art Projects I was intrigued. Reviews I read were sketchy, it
sounded almost completely interactive, and Marina may or may not even be there.
Would I go?? As awkward as it made me feel, I felt I really had to go...in a way
I couldn't exactly explain.
My friend R kindly got me a VIP pass, which I
presumed would get me in ahead of crowds given the whole experience was free. So
I decided to go. Unsurprisingly no one was too keen to accompany me! But that is
ok, sometimes things are to be experienced alone, and hey, if anyone does alone
well, it is me!
Each day the residence begins at midday, so I
headed towards Pier 2/3 at Walsh Bay around 11.30 in case there were queues, and
there was. I headed gingerly to the front of the line...even doing that made me
feel uncomfortable, lol! The guy there had no idea what my pass meant but
directed me to the other side of the building, I almost gave up and just jumped
in line, which probably would have taken forever and I would walk away. But
there was this determination in me that pushed through the fear. I headed around
to the side entrance and was greeted and put into a small group of other VIPs.
We moved through the big sheds with a guide
giving us loads of background information about how the residency was going,
Marina, participants etc. Marina was in and out of the main section all the time
but tried to keep a low profile. She was also working with the other artists in
residence on the top floor of the building. The artists in residence had all
struggled settling into their spaces, but were now working more comfortably.
Some people were coming back multiple times and staying all day. Marina had
noticed some of these, and would approach them, and talk to them, and ask them
to do 'homework' overnight and bring it in the next day...it wasn't specified
what the homework was. The guide wouldn't let us into the area until it had
filled a little, to ensure the room had the right vibe for that. At that point I
must admit I was thinking the whole thing was a bit of a wank.
We were finally allowed to enter, probably only 5
mins or so after it opened.
We were asked as we entered to read Marina's
statement about the residency, and then asked to put all our gear in lockers,
including phones and watches. Then we were asked to go to the warm up room,
where about 50 other participants were warming up to a video of Marina talking
us through physical activities. None were strenuous, but some felt ridiculous,
but the vibe of the room was just give it a go, and people were either quietly
intense or friendly and happy. Exercises included rubbing/massaging various
parts of your body to wake them up, eg lips, chest, heart etc. Also a great
breathing one which really seemed to clear my sinuses (going to do it regularly
I think).
I didn't do the whole thing, most didn't, the
room started to fill more and I moved on to the next room where you were given a
pair of headphones to wear. This blocked out all sounds.
I then walked into the main area which was open
plan but divided by a few walls. Everyone was quiet and wandering slowly,
everyone wearing headphones were participants and then there was heaps of young,
beautiful people in black not wearing headphones. They are the facilitators who
can guide you through the experience. As I walked slowly looking and wondering
what I was going to do a gorgeous young male facilitator took me by the hand and
slowly walked me to the area where large wooden framed chairs were facing each
other. There was a man in the chair facing me. We smiled. This exercise is based
on her famous, The Artist Is Present, exhibit from 2010 at The Moma.
The lovely man and I sat opposite each other for
some time. Initially it was excruciatingly painful and embarrassing for me. I
couldn't hold his gaze completely, but neither could he. We smiled and kinda
laughed but it was incredibly confronting, but eventually we got into a groove
and it was very intense. Initially my internal dialogue was freaking out, I'd
love to hear a recording of what was going on in my head! I got a point where I
calmed down and was comfortable but felt spent and moved to get up and he did
the exact same thing at the exact same time, we weren't reacting to each other,
it just happened. It was surreal.
I had hardly moved from that when another
facilitator took my hand, this time a happy looking young woman. She took me to
an area where lots of camp beds with pillows and blankets were set up and with a
sweeping gesture suggested I lay down. Remember no talking, can barely hear any
noise, all silent. I lay down on the seriously comfortable camp bed and she
pulled a grey blanket over me and gently tucked me all the way in and then
massaged my temples for a bit. At first I was a little embarrassed, but that
left me fairly quickly. After she left I lay there staring at the ceiling,
feeling warm and relaxed and completely comforted. I thought about the
experience thus far and what else I would I participate in. I thought about the
anxiety that had returned the past 6 months after decades of lying dormant. I
wondered if I was subconsciously compelled to attend this to assist the anxiety
as I felt more calm and still and present than I had been in a long time. I say
subconsciously as I didn't know enough about the experience to know it would
sooth my soul. Eventually I must have fallen asleep as I may or may not have
woken myself with a little snorty snore. Thank goodness for the headphones. How
long I laid there I couldn't tell you, I had completely lost the concept of
time, it could have been minutes or hours, I had no idea.
I headed towards the next activity when a
facilitator took my hand and led me back to the gazing chairs...sigh. I was
seated opposite a lovely young South American woman with an infectious smile
that helped ease my discomfort. We smiled and it was amusing and funny. Slowly
her smile left her face and we were eyeball to eyeball, the intensity and drama
of her eyes were palpable, I felt incredibly moved, like she had some grave
sadness behind the smile, my eyes filled with tears and hers became glassy. The
moment passed, I looked down to clear my head, we stayed a little longer, then
she got up put her hands together and bowed before leaving. I sat there to
collect my thoughts.
The next activity was large pieces of cardboard
pinned to pillars with a chair directly in front. I chose a lovely blue, even
though I wanted the purple, but it was taken. I love to meditate, but don't
think I ever completely clear my head of thoughts, my internal dialogue is
pretty strong, lol, but I came close this time. I almost fell asleep I was that
still and calm, the blue was soothing too. In front of me another activity was
going on, one I knew I wouldn't participate in, so I watched it for a bit while
sitting there. People were walking incredibly slowly in a large oval, some
singularly, some holding hands. And when I say slow, think about walking as slow
as you can possibly go, and then slow down a hundred times more and you might
get how slow they were. I knew I couldn't walk that slow and would end up
laughing or disturbing others. They reminded me of that scene in Plan 9 From
Outer Space, where they are running from the aliens (if you know that scene you
will know what I mean), that thought made me smile and worried I would get the
giggles I moved on.
This time I was led gently by another lovely
young man to a platform where many participants stood still with their eyes
closed. People were close but not touching. He led me up, it was only a few
inches off the ground and motioned for me to close my eyes, all the while
holding my hand. Then he gently massaged my shoulders for a little while and
tapped me and left. Standing so close to all these other zen, still people with
ears blocked by the headphones and eyes shut was surreal. I cannot begin the
explain the beautiful energy I felt from standing there and I cannot begin to
tell you how long I stood there, I have no idea. After a while I felt a little
rocky, so I opened my eyes and stood down. I then sat in a chair close by and
watched that for a while before moving on to the last activity.
The last activity was separating grains into
colours and counting them. This simplistic activity is to help clear your mind
by concentrating on something simple, the area was full and I waited for a while
and eventually decided to leave.
I handed my headphones back, collected my stuff
and slowly walked out. There was a debriefing room where you could talk about
your experience, but I wanted to hold it close and continue to be quiet. I
walked slowly through the back area of the experience and up to the top floor
where the other artists in residence were, I walked around there but eventually
moved on.
I left the building, and wandered slowly
around the pier catching the sun. A few memories were triggered by being there
and along with my experience I found myself in tears.
Not sobbing just tears, I sat down and eventually felt this calmness wash over
me, the moment had passed. I guess it was a release after such an intense
experience.
I then ran into one of the ladies who came in
with me, an older lady in her 80s I think, we spoke for a little while about it,
she was quite moved but had had enough, the people she were with were still
inside. I left her sitting there contemplating it all and moved on. The rest of the day I walked slowly, I wouldn't call myself
a fast walker, but I never walk this slow, but it felt right and comfy. I knew
this zen would hang around and possibly be difficult to shake, not that I wanted
to anyway. I had planned on some shopping, but I no longer had interest in that,
I mostly wandered The Rocks and The Quay, sitting and thinking and watching the
world pass by from time to time. I felt calm and quiet and present.
A day later I still feel like that, my life isn't
changed, my anxiety is probably not banished, and I am sure at some point the
calmness will move on, but I feel from all I observed and did that afternoon, if
I take the time - and I sure will take the time - I feel I can return to that
state when I wish.
How long was I there? I would have said a little
less than an hour, but it was double that time, not quite two hours. It all
sounds a bit airy fairy and a bit wanky possibly, and that's ok, the cynic in me
was prepared for that, but you know, it never really felt like that. The whole
exercise was definitely about shedding inhibitions, being still, being in the
present, affording those you are with the time and presence and energy they
deserve, and to heal. Because we all need love and healing, no matter how well
we are feeling in our lives.
I particularly loved the hand holding, touching,
tucking into bed etc. This was a revelation, cause I am not at all good with
complete strangers touching me. But it was incredibly comforting, and as an
adult, when was the last time someone tucked you into bed? It may sound
childish, but what is wrong with that, I highly recommend it.
And the thing I took with me the most was how
wonderful each and every participant was. Kind, considerate, generous, and
respectful. I mean, people could have been arseholes, disturbed the zen, laughed
crassly, been rude, but I didn't experience or see that.
And finally Marina!! I think I caught a glimpse
of her holding someone's hand and taking them to the camp bed, she was in a
hooded jacket and I am certain it was her face. I guess that makes sense, to be
sort of hidden, if she was brazen and out there, it would break the vibe of the
room. I thought I would be disappointed not to see her, yet when I did - and I
cannot even be certain I did - I really didn't care at all.
So, yes it was uncomfortable and confronting, but
once I got over that it was such an experience of transcendence and beauty, I
kinda wish I could do a little of it every day.