Recently, I was enjoying Starbucks with a friend and talking about whatever people discuss at 5 AM between taking selfies and wishing they were still asleep.
Somehow, the conversation switched to Marina Abromavic (by somehow, I mean I brought it up, likely out of nowhere) and proceeded to do the whole triple-fail-spectacular where I ask: “Do you know who she is?” and each follow up inuquiry leads to an exponentially amplifying cascade of LOLWUT:
“She’s like…a performance artist?”
“Like – for instance she did this thing… where she sat on a thing at the Museum of Modern Art. And she stared at people non-stop for like hours each day….YA KNOW?!” 😀
“ Wait, no, it was… I’m not – I’m not explaining it right…”
Ugh. Conversations like these are always painful. The more I try to explain it, the dumber it sounds and everyone stops taking me seriously somewhere along the way – especially myself.
Actually, I dunno if I ever took performance art that seriously to begin with. But I totally admire performance artists and what they can do. There’s this head space they go into called “total awareness”. They’re not thinking about what they’ll eat for dinner later, which route they’re gonna take home, or even what other people might be thinking about their act.
TOTAL AWARENESS
Some people call this thing “being present”.
Some people call the present “a gift”.
That said, I say, the gift “present” people offer is an empty box of shits – about anything but what’s going on ATM.
Now, this doesn’t mean going on a bender or getting Olympically laid either. That non-shit-givery applies to how you feel too: body sensations and strong emotions alike: hunger, anxiety, fatigue, pain – it all takes a back burner in total awareness.
If you’re really good at this, you can just do a mental recline, metaphorical feet on the desk, just observing everything at a distance – from what other people are doing to your very own thoughts – without getting caught up in the neural spaghetti of it. This is hard enough to do when you’re meditating, but when you’re off in the drama of work or relationships… or performing? Get the fck outta here. I’d lose it. They’d eat me alive and barf me back up – which is also the concept of an existing performance piece.
I think.
So, big deal. So these people are “above it all” what do they actually do?
Well, to most, it probably just looks like they’re voluntarily embarrassing themselves.
Artists like Marina usually spotlight some sort of social convention (though the fun of art is that it’s open to interpretation). Aside from her staring contest thingy, she also did AAA AAA where she and her former lover move toward one another, gradually increasing their screaming level until they’re in eachother’s faces all Come To Daddy style, sucking eachother’s souls out with their unhinged jaws and Exorcism throat sounds.
I liked that, because it reminded me of real relationships. The closer you get, the louder/less inhibited you get, and the more you show your authentic self. I like all her stuff, because she’s so in-the-moment that any anxiety is totally undetectable – except when her ex-lover from the screaming video unexpectedly sat down decades later for “The Artist Is Present” (aka the staring piece). That was pretty cool because they can’t talk to each other or touch – just look and either read or try to communicate with their eyes. They seemed to be able to do both.
She also diddled herself for 8 hours under a gallery floor, narrating the whole solo sexy talk over a P.A. for people walking above to hear, in “Seven Easy Pieces”. I think that series was a reimagining of similar work some of her colleagues or predecessors had done.
(It’s at 10:20 or something, ya perv.)
SHAKE YA BUTOH
Then there’s this dance called Butoh. This thing is an eastern “dance of darkness” with a whole tradition behind it. I watched a documentary on it, but just got so distracted by the style that all the background went out the window for me. If I had to try and describe it, it’s like yoga mixed with dancing based on body intuition instead of, like, postures n stuff.
Yeah. Nope. That’s still a shitty description.
There’s all kinds of Butoh, but it’s so chaotic that it can look kinda creepy. The awareness level that happens here is more intrinsic and personal – that it’s almost like reverting back to infancy: doing strange stuff with your limbs and making ugly faces if you feel so inclined.
TAKE YOUR PASSION
You can see this happen in music, too.
While most people know Lady Gaga and appreciate her as an artist, one really awesome artist who’s not “like her” but perhaps “in that realm” is Jonna Lee of Swedish electro group IamamIwhoamI.
I dunno if she deems herself a performance artist, but she deserves the title more than some. Her music videos implement textures with lights and sounds that fit perfectly, the themes and cinematography are intriguing and fit well with the music, and she radiates this effing effortless sexuality. She’s not trying to seduce anyone. She’s just into what she’s doing.
The appeal lies less in her looks or gyrations, but in her love affair with the music she makes. People who are visibly passionate – versus faking it for blind adulation or to maintain a precedent they’ve set – are always appealing.
I think that’s why so many indie-underground-heads get upset when their favorite artists go commercial.
I don’t think it’s just fans getting greedy. That total presence and passion has the potential to wane when the pressure’s suddenly on to do what you love lest you lose your new place (and new income, supermodel girlfriend, shiny new car, VIP access, house in the hills, status, adoration, fans, end up on perezhilton.com, trend with the hashtags, #hasbeen, #washedup.)
Basically all the shit you didn’t need before but suddenly do – passion gets supplanted with fear of losing that.
‘cause like, it’s kinda hard to love out of fear.
LE FUCKIT LIST
In a way, we all do this – even without the guise of celebrity adorning us. We say we’re a certain way and try to fit in these living his-and-her genre coffins we create for ourselves. How about fuck that? We’re human and we change. We age every second. Sometimes we laugh and cry. Sometimes we look like Charlie Sheen to other people. And you know what? That goes on the Fuckit List as well.
There. That’s your description of how to be “totally aware” (and happier)– in the performance art of life.
Knowing that beginning part, being able to say “so what?” when people are dicks, but not celebrating when that person gets hit by a Greyhound going 80 ’cause like, you get that it’s not his fault he’s an asshole. It’s being above it all, but still involved.
Wait… why didn’t I just tell my coffee date that?
#duh