Performance Platform 2011, Lublin
BlueBerry
NOTEPAD: day two of Performance Platform 2011
On
day two, the festival program promised three women. These were to be:
Luciana Freire D' Anunciacao, Marijana Jovanovic and Żaklina
Piechanowska. They are such different individualities, such different
people and such different artists that even before their performances I
was really excited by the mere combination. If the organisers did it on
purpose, then it was spot on, if it was by accident, then a lucky one.
The
first artist gave a presentation (maybe slightly too revealing and
giving things away, but still a presentation). In essence it comprised
only the performance realised later and spare personal matters. I lacked
a bit of the context of other performances, which would give me a
better idea of the artist.
The
second artist declared that she wasn't sure whether it wasn't time for
her to begin her performance and so she vivisected. The vivisection was
rather complex, as it referred not only to the life of the artist
herself, a complete lack of sense of security, to violence and breaches
of privacy and autonomy by her close ones, but also to the histories of
these people's lives. The artist stated very clearly that she did it so
that her work could be understood better.
The
third artist did not appear, her video work was shown. It was actually
at that very moment when I felt very curious and not only anticipated
the course of the day, but also decided what I would like to write about
for "PERON".
Luciana
did the same performance as on EPAF. Her presentation and
behind-the-scenes conversations reassured me as to the correct
interpretation of her performance and that what she does is a
performance, and not a dance (which is what her audience in Warsaw
accused her of). What's interesting is that Luciana is aware of these
accusations but, as she says, she knows what she's doing and what she
wants to do. All we can do is listen to the voices of the world, because
in cases such as this it sometimes happens that one can hear something
after many years - and not only once.
Marijana
invited the audience to the harshly lit room, which came as a great,
even painful (at least for the eyes) contrast to Luciana's performance,
which took place in the light of a projector. When everyone was in the
room and found their place round the artist, she left the audience alone
and started wrapping glass drinking glasses placed beforehand on a
table in a corner. She kept taking out subsequent boxes and wrapping up
as if she was taking some important fragile objects onto an unwanted
journey: without sentiment and attention that they deserved,
emotionlessly, quickly, mechanically. About ten bottles of wine stood on
the floor and some rolls wrapped in cling film were scattered around.
She then wrapped the bottles, and then got hold of the rolls and started
taking plastic travel glasses out of them. She put them down on the
edge of the platform. At first, she placed them with more attention and
care than the glass ones, but after a while she seemed to have lost her
patience. At the end she put a piece of paper inscribed "glasses" in
front of them, then got back to the table and took it out of the room
together with the full boxes with the help of several others, again
abandoning the audience as if they were rag dolls. Outside she declared
the end of her performance, opened a bottle of wine and poured it into
glasses she passed on to those, who stood nearby. When she was handing
the glasses, she encouraged to take them home, "because the gallery paid
for them, so you can take them". After a while, she took out
cigarettes, lit one and handed over the pouring of the wine to a young
man, whilst she indulged herself in convivial chit-chat.
When
the wine had been drunk and the glasses cleared away, Żaklina
Piechanowska's projection of a performance (rather than a performance as
such) took place. It was a performance inspired by the same text by
Beckett as the performance that was shown in Warsaw: sitting naked in a
natural water reservoir, the artist recited the text, stopping every
time she submerged her head in the water, as if she wanted to test her
endurance without breathing.
After
ending the projection, a discussion took place and lasted particularly
long, seeming to be never-ending. I say "discussion", but I have real
doubts whether it was a discussion. I anticipated that Marijana was
going to draw almost all the attention by saying a few catchy words
about the limitations of art, of performance, about provocation, the
need for asking questions, development... and I was not disappointed.
It
was actually difficult to say to what ends Marijana's action was. She
asks questions but doesn't listen to what others say, and her own
replies avoid giving an answer. She declares openness, but one cannot
see it. She sees the need for changing the mindset but wants others to
do it. She wants to unsettle the world's order, which she takes
advantage of, but in such a way that nothing would change. She talks
about performing without doing it. She often contradicts herself,
invalidating her own views presented just a moment before. All of her
answers mean many, many words, which in a way forecast further
confrontations. I attended spoken performances before. Lee Wen, Jacques
Van Poppel and in Poland - Ewa Zarzycka do them. But their performances
made a completely different impression on me and I don't suppose that it
was only because they are stars in the performance art world. The
artist should draw attention, especially if she's a performer. Marijana
can do it perfectly. But I am not sure whether performance is about this
sort of attention. I do not want to analyse the artist's opinions or
state, I am no psychologist. The vivisection did not move me at the very
slightest, though I genuinely feel for her. Apart from the personal
trauma, one could also recollect the times of the last war in the former
region of Yugoslavia, the war which destroyed everyone: both the
victims and the aggressors – as wars do. These are terrible things, but
they don't justify anything. Everyone would like to be understood, but
expecting others to do so is a waste of time, even though it sometimes
happens that someone offers us their understanding. If Marijana wants to
use the potential of trauma through doing art, then it may be
worthwhile for her to get to know the art of e.g. Frida Kahlo or Louise
Bourgeois, who also went through a trauma. Because it is in the art's
nature that it is either good or bad, no matter what the artist's past.
Similarly
to other participants in this meeting, Luciana let herself be drawn
into the whirlpool of Marijana's provoking, yet not very conclusive
deliberations. Luckily her own work is self-defending and I managed to
express my opinion in the first edition of "PERON" already.
I
decided not to write about Żaklina in this summary, because since she
wasn't there for the presentation and the performance, by default she
wasn't there at the discussion either. It is a bit of a shame, because
as a performer she appears interesting. I liked both her performances;
just the fact that the same rhythmical, interesting text joins them is a
reason for which her presence at the discussion would be most welcome.
The events of the second day resulted in what Tuwim's little rhyme said:
"Once upon a time three little ducks
Took a ferry, paid their toll.
The first one was white, the second – black
And the third one not there at all."
translated by: Anna Lycett
BlueBerry
NOTEBOOK: The third day of Performance Platform 2011
Chengyao in the labyrinth of Labyrinth.
The third day of the Platform is over. Tomorrow is the last day of the festival. It seems unreal to me how quickly the time passes. There is some kind of incapacity to control it, a constant sensation of insufficiency. Seemingly I am, I try to be present, alert, attentive, yet what a surprise! I feel like throwing myself in the middle of Grodzka St and yelling out that if I cannot live through it once again, more fully, more maturely and consciously, then let the time slow down at least a bit... I haven't yet satiated, enjoyed to the full the company of Luciana, Anka, Lushan, Paulina, Chengyao, Magda, Cui Tao, Kateřina, Łukasz.... I haven't yet trotted around Lublin enough, I haven't yet tasted enough local delicacies, I haven't yet...
The place of He Chengyao's work was the square, where the old parish church was, near the Labyrinth. Those, who know Lublin, know what this place looks like: like a labyrinth of low walls and miniature squares lined with all sorts of stone and fireclay tiles.
She followed the lines determined by the constructions of walls, stopping every few steps to put away the remnants of a burnt-out match, a burnt-out match, to take another one out of the box, to take another one out, to light it and, carrying it like a minute flambeau, to walk another few steps. Every time the match burned out, Chengyao stopped for a moment, stopped for a moment, placed the remnants of the match onto her hand, took another one out in order to light it and, carrying it like a minute flambeau, walked another few steps. Sometimes she stopped for a longer while: when she didn't have a single match left, not a single match. Then she would put into one pocket, into one pocket the remnants of matches and the empty box, the empty box. She would take a full box out of the other pocket, a full pocket, and would take the first match out of the box in order to light it, and carrying it like a minute flambeau, she would walk another few steps. Right afterwards she would come to a halt, stop for a moment, because the match burned out, so she would place the remnants of the match onto her hand, take another one out in order to light it and, carrying it like a minute flambeau, walk another few steps...
He Chengyao's performance lasted for just over two hours. The three of us spent the last three quarters of an hour together: both I and another workshop participant hit on the idea to follow Chengyao at the same time. We followed her, stopping to the rhythm of her stops, only we didn't light matches. For a moment it sprung to my mind that there, at the gallery, the discussion is going on, maybe something is happening, something that I am going to miss, where I should be present... While here – she's still going to keep... following the lines determined by the constructions of walls, stopping every few steps to put away the remnants of a burnt-out match, to take another one out of the box, to take another one out, to light it and, carrying it like a minute flambeau, to walk another few steps...
I stayed. I felt that now it's precisely this walking that is the most important for me. Following the paths of a labyrinth of some old traces, as if looking for some important matters. I thought that Chengyao is a bit like the little match girl from Andersen's story, who wanted to change her enchanted tale. She didn't burn all the matches at the same time, she burns them one at a time instead. Maybe she won't warm herself up with one match – as she noted in the story – but looking at the match, she will remind herself that everything passes and that passing is inherent to life.
translated by: Anna Lycett
EPAF 2011, Warsaw
BlueBerry
NOTES: After EPAF 2011
I am writing this text still keyed up: I have just come back from the discussion concluding this year's EPAF.
EPAF 2011 is over now and it irrevocably belongs to the past. The day after tomorrow will see its continuation in the form of Performance Platform in Lublin.
I admit that the discussion moved me a lot - I haven't taken part in anything like it before: the discussion remained a discussion, yet it was just as valuable as performances. Unquestionably, this was thanks to Magdalena Ujma, who acted as a moderator, and the great, incredibly proficient and skilful interpreter, Ewa Kanigowska-Giedroyć.
At the beginning of the discussion Magda Ujma formulated the general conclusion: this year's EPAF contained surprisingly many performances rich in interaction with their audiences and relatively few (or rather very subtle) political references, despite clear tendencies of this kind showing in the work of Chinese artists and Polish traditions that have long been approbative of the so-called engaged art.
Initially my impression was that comparing to other festivals I observed until now, this one was "too calm", "too unmoving". How wrong I was! It might not have been quite as brisk and rich as Interakcje or other ones (in Glasgow and in Berlin), but I still have the overwhelming impression that together we achieved something really important. This is precisely what the discussion made me realise.
The encounter of East and West, artists of younger and middle generations, whose work has been shaped throughout different times and cultures, the confrontation of different artistic and certainly also life stances led to a discussion not only on what took place at the Centre for Contemporary Art (CSW) Laboratory, but also on - as it seems - a significant overvaluation, which has recently taken place in the domain of visual arts.
Through analysing the means employed - from meditation (Cui Tao), to techniques of influencing others: intrigue (Cui Tao), invitation or encouragement (Kateřina Olivova, Chen Jin, Chengyao He, Lushan Liu, Cai Qing Sonnenberg, HP Process), provocation (Marijana Jovanovič), up to multimedia technology (Nathalie Mba Bikoro, Lushan Liu, Luciana Freire D' Anunciacao, Żaklina Piechanowska, Kateřina Olivova, HP Process, Yannick Franck) - we could consider anew the motivation of and messages given by the artist, the borders of both action, and the subject and the domain of art itself. It turned out that questions about the border between East and West, about the extreme, to which an artist can go, about what an artist is and who is an artist, about what art is and what art is not, about the institution and rules within the domain of art and finally about what performance art is, are still current. And since we can still ask questions, this means that further exploration of this subject is still possible, this means that art is still alive, and those, who say nonchalantly that "everything has already been accomplished", just died alive.
Doubtlessly, an incredibly significant moment not only in the discussion, but also in EPAF itself was the confrontation of two stances and performances. Those of Cui Tao and Marijana Jovanovič.
In a sense, Marijana Jovanovič, a 24-year-old Serbian artist, reversed the performance situation:
it was towards the audience that she pointed the sharp spotlight and the "eye" of the camcorder standing in the middle in front of a screen, whilst she herself sat by a table placed evidently to the right of the stage, her back towards the audience. After a few minutes the image of the audience appeared on the screen. One could even say that we were sitting in front of ourselves. The audience started moving towards the artist, some people "settled" around her and tried to talk, to look at the objects placed on the table, comprised in part of her private notes taken in several languages (English, Serbian and probably Norwegian). It was impossible to talk with several dozen people at the same time, especially because of language barriers. Marijana led to a complete mixing of people and their roles. At some point even an argument started, in which the artist took an active and emphatic part, over who was allowed to smoke cigarettes in the room (Marijana kept smoking, lighting each cigarette from the butt of the previous one). Chaos and disorientation deepened with every moment. Some people lost interest in what was going on and started going about their own business: they began chit-chatting in small groups, taking photos of each other, some people started leaving the room or walking around it, as if they were "sitting out" until the next performance...
This event, which I find difficult to call a performance, had a strong effect on me, all the stronger since I knew that behind the doors of this room, at the same time Cui Tao was exploring the synchronisation of his mind, body, breath and action. He was exploring the domain of life and art whilst sitting almost still by a table in the hall, in front of the lift, facing the doors to the room, where Marijana's action was taking place, and writing down his reflections in Chinese symbols on napkins. Around him whirled a little crowd, observing him. He was arousing curiosity, all the more that the audience had been informed beforehand that his performance was planned to take place until the next day - for full 24 hours. But attracting the spectators' attention was based here on a radically different basis. Eventually Cui Tao stopped his performance sooner than planned: after about 18 hours of performing he started having problems with his mind and breath. They were significant enough for him to decide to stop the action.
Chengyao He worked in a similar manner to Cui Tao: she sat on a little chair, very close to the audience, with a frozen yoghurt placed deep within her mouth. For over ten minutes, everyone waited almost still, quietly and in suspense, for what was going to happen, watching the efforts and suffering of the artist.
The role mixing of the performer/audience took place not only in Marijana's work, but also in that of Lushan Liu. Whilst in Marijana's action it came as a result of breaking certain rules and led to a confrontational argument with the custodian on who is allowed to do what, in the case of Lushan Liu the situation - albeit not much easier due to equipment failure - did not slip out of anyone's control. Lushan Liu put forward a performance, in which by directing volunteers, she wanted them to play the role of performers. Whilst in a way she merely animated them, she planned to become a spectator herself, an observer of their action. A difficult moment at the beginning, when the audience started having great fun whilst the performers were trying to put on a complicated piece of clothing for four people, did not lead to a complete and uncontrollable exchange of roles, as was the case with Jovanovič. Dressed-up volunteers were taken to their destination by lift, where they danced a prescribed dance. Instead of a presumably very visually and audibly effective performance, we could observe an arrangement that was somewhat unclear, but the performer remained herself. Saddened and inconsolable by the breakdown of the projector and chirping machine, she bravely faced her action missing significant elements, yet she completed it. Was this action beautiful? Yes. Was it art? Yes. Was it performance art? Yes.
During the discussion Cui Tao revealed the idea behind his performance clearly and coherently. Lushan Liu explained what she wanted to achieve, and what she was and what she wasn't successful in. She was conscious and controlled the situation until the end. She was also simply sad, because it wasn't quite what she wanted.
Marijana tried to explain her actions in terms of wanting to contest the institution of the festival itself, of art, of the artist and her role in the society. Coherence, a logical explanation were missing, though. One goes through rebellion for rebellion's sake at the age of fifteen, but if an artist experiences it as a kind of "art for art's sake", then perhaps she ought to look for a better motivation or... occupation. My recollection of the "rebel without a cause", Istvan Kantor, is somewhat different, and so is that of Marijana herself in one of her performances set in a Serbian tradition: then she appeared to me as someone, who has roots, but lives here and now. Her performance at EPAF was surely the fruit of a workshop with Ray Langenbach, but it seems to be somewhat unripe.
The juxtaposition of the stances described above made me think of the Eastern way of being and living, thousands of years of culture of work with mind and of constant struggle with one's ego: taming it, disciplining it and, when necessary, giving in to it. Of work on expanding one's consciousness and the possibilities of "here and now". The extreme opposite of this stance is the stance of ego drifting like a raft on the sea of unconsciousness. I only hope that this discussion has brought in the understanding that contestation for contestation's sake is merely a somewhat overintelectualised cove, from which it is still possible to set sail on the wide waters of real ideas and motivations.
One of the more interesting moments during the discussion was Cui Tao's formulation of the conclusion that the key element of performance is the body, in which everything takes place: from breath and vital functions up to the birth of ideas. By analysing the stance of artists from China, by listening to their views, we could find how they see it, how they understand it, how they realise it. All of them, even Ting-Tong Chang, who based his performance on a machine - a giant crossbow shooting eggs at a tin wall, and who still had to operate it manually with a remote control and to walk over to it from time to time in order to replenish eggs in the feed mechanism.
The last two aspects, which were touched upon during the discussion, are a question of theatricality/dramatisation of performance, also in reference to the place of action itself.
During the course of HP Process duet's work one of the computers froze and half of the image on the screen disappeared. After a moment of noticeable concern, the artists started their action, but in a different manner. This resulted in a spontaneous, but rather predictable and slightly "verbose" theatrical ending. Similar objections could be formulated not only against these performers, but also against e.g. Nathalie Mba Bilkoro, whose work, albeit unusually beautiful, made the impression of the obvious and had something of a theatrical play in it. However, in the course of the discussion, we realised how important the place of performing is in performance art. Surely her performance was received differently in the almost theatrical room at the Centre for Contemporary Art Laboratory and differently in the open space, especially in an industrial or poor district of a large city.
All intended events have been realised and concluded. Further actions are still before us. They will certainly be in the same spirit, because most artists present in Warsaw are going to perform also in Lublin. We are going to further explore similarities and differences, confront different stances and learn from each other. I am very curious what is going to happen, whether there will be iterations of actions, what new qualities will appear in this undertaking - and I treat it as one, at least for the one reason that the whole organisation team is almost the same in Lublin as it is in Warsaw, in the Polish East and West.
Thinking about beautiful performances of Luciana Freire D'Anunciacao and Łukasz Trusewicz, I came to wish for a new theme for the next festival. Luciana based her performance on dance and called it With Myself. Listening to the backstairs discussions made me conclude that many people did not understand it almost at all. For me, it was a beautiful tale of a woman being alone with herself, being close - attentively and with affection, performed with great sensitivity and openness.
I noticed a similar feature in Łukasz's work: there, having just entered adulthood, a man creates an object, which he wishes to destroy for some reason. Maybe in order to try his energy, his power, his need for fight - with matter, with himself? Because this product of his work no longer appealed to him (wasn't he pleased with it, as before his action he had stroked it lovingly with his hand?) or because of something else, he hit it several times with a stick. The ruinous tool is totally destroyed, a stone "ideograph" - the letter O - stays intact. The artist discards the tool and walks away, leaving also his work behind...
In our world, the world of mentally masculinised women and mentally femininised men, of gender inequality, of divisions and prejudices, of hurting one another at the privacy of home and outside, of training for socially acceptable roles from early years (I cannot get Libera's works out of my mind), finally of stereotypes and the battle of sexes, there is still much to be done. Maybe the time has come for men and women to stop fighting, to meet up and to learn from each other? To find beauty and strength in themselves, like Luciana and Łukasz did? To find them in each other?
And so I keep dreaming that one day such a festival will take place: the encounter of femininity and masculinity, showing each other how we experience it all - just as Luciana and Łukasz did, just as I once could see it in the work of Monika Günther and Ruedi Schill...
translated by Anna Lycett
NOTES: After EPAF 2011
I am writing this text still keyed up: I have just come back from the discussion concluding this year's EPAF.
EPAF 2011 is over now and it irrevocably belongs to the past. The day after tomorrow will see its continuation in the form of Performance Platform in Lublin.
I admit that the discussion moved me a lot - I haven't taken part in anything like it before: the discussion remained a discussion, yet it was just as valuable as performances. Unquestionably, this was thanks to Magdalena Ujma, who acted as a moderator, and the great, incredibly proficient and skilful interpreter, Ewa Kanigowska-Giedroyć.
At the beginning of the discussion Magda Ujma formulated the general conclusion: this year's EPAF contained surprisingly many performances rich in interaction with their audiences and relatively few (or rather very subtle) political references, despite clear tendencies of this kind showing in the work of Chinese artists and Polish traditions that have long been approbative of the so-called engaged art.
Initially my impression was that comparing to other festivals I observed until now, this one was "too calm", "too unmoving". How wrong I was! It might not have been quite as brisk and rich as Interakcje or other ones (in Glasgow and in Berlin), but I still have the overwhelming impression that together we achieved something really important. This is precisely what the discussion made me realise.
The encounter of East and West, artists of younger and middle generations, whose work has been shaped throughout different times and cultures, the confrontation of different artistic and certainly also life stances led to a discussion not only on what took place at the Centre for Contemporary Art (CSW) Laboratory, but also on - as it seems - a significant overvaluation, which has recently taken place in the domain of visual arts.
Through analysing the means employed - from meditation (Cui Tao), to techniques of influencing others: intrigue (Cui Tao), invitation or encouragement (Kateřina Olivova, Chen Jin, Chengyao He, Lushan Liu, Cai Qing Sonnenberg, HP Process), provocation (Marijana Jovanovič), up to multimedia technology (Nathalie Mba Bikoro, Lushan Liu, Luciana Freire D' Anunciacao, Żaklina Piechanowska, Kateřina Olivova, HP Process, Yannick Franck) - we could consider anew the motivation of and messages given by the artist, the borders of both action, and the subject and the domain of art itself. It turned out that questions about the border between East and West, about the extreme, to which an artist can go, about what an artist is and who is an artist, about what art is and what art is not, about the institution and rules within the domain of art and finally about what performance art is, are still current. And since we can still ask questions, this means that further exploration of this subject is still possible, this means that art is still alive, and those, who say nonchalantly that "everything has already been accomplished", just died alive.
Doubtlessly, an incredibly significant moment not only in the discussion, but also in EPAF itself was the confrontation of two stances and performances. Those of Cui Tao and Marijana Jovanovič.
In a sense, Marijana Jovanovič, a 24-year-old Serbian artist, reversed the performance situation:
it was towards the audience that she pointed the sharp spotlight and the "eye" of the camcorder standing in the middle in front of a screen, whilst she herself sat by a table placed evidently to the right of the stage, her back towards the audience. After a few minutes the image of the audience appeared on the screen. One could even say that we were sitting in front of ourselves. The audience started moving towards the artist, some people "settled" around her and tried to talk, to look at the objects placed on the table, comprised in part of her private notes taken in several languages (English, Serbian and probably Norwegian). It was impossible to talk with several dozen people at the same time, especially because of language barriers. Marijana led to a complete mixing of people and their roles. At some point even an argument started, in which the artist took an active and emphatic part, over who was allowed to smoke cigarettes in the room (Marijana kept smoking, lighting each cigarette from the butt of the previous one). Chaos and disorientation deepened with every moment. Some people lost interest in what was going on and started going about their own business: they began chit-chatting in small groups, taking photos of each other, some people started leaving the room or walking around it, as if they were "sitting out" until the next performance...
This event, which I find difficult to call a performance, had a strong effect on me, all the stronger since I knew that behind the doors of this room, at the same time Cui Tao was exploring the synchronisation of his mind, body, breath and action. He was exploring the domain of life and art whilst sitting almost still by a table in the hall, in front of the lift, facing the doors to the room, where Marijana's action was taking place, and writing down his reflections in Chinese symbols on napkins. Around him whirled a little crowd, observing him. He was arousing curiosity, all the more that the audience had been informed beforehand that his performance was planned to take place until the next day - for full 24 hours. But attracting the spectators' attention was based here on a radically different basis. Eventually Cui Tao stopped his performance sooner than planned: after about 18 hours of performing he started having problems with his mind and breath. They were significant enough for him to decide to stop the action.
Chengyao He worked in a similar manner to Cui Tao: she sat on a little chair, very close to the audience, with a frozen yoghurt placed deep within her mouth. For over ten minutes, everyone waited almost still, quietly and in suspense, for what was going to happen, watching the efforts and suffering of the artist.
The role mixing of the performer/audience took place not only in Marijana's work, but also in that of Lushan Liu. Whilst in Marijana's action it came as a result of breaking certain rules and led to a confrontational argument with the custodian on who is allowed to do what, in the case of Lushan Liu the situation - albeit not much easier due to equipment failure - did not slip out of anyone's control. Lushan Liu put forward a performance, in which by directing volunteers, she wanted them to play the role of performers. Whilst in a way she merely animated them, she planned to become a spectator herself, an observer of their action. A difficult moment at the beginning, when the audience started having great fun whilst the performers were trying to put on a complicated piece of clothing for four people, did not lead to a complete and uncontrollable exchange of roles, as was the case with Jovanovič. Dressed-up volunteers were taken to their destination by lift, where they danced a prescribed dance. Instead of a presumably very visually and audibly effective performance, we could observe an arrangement that was somewhat unclear, but the performer remained herself. Saddened and inconsolable by the breakdown of the projector and chirping machine, she bravely faced her action missing significant elements, yet she completed it. Was this action beautiful? Yes. Was it art? Yes. Was it performance art? Yes.
During the discussion Cui Tao revealed the idea behind his performance clearly and coherently. Lushan Liu explained what she wanted to achieve, and what she was and what she wasn't successful in. She was conscious and controlled the situation until the end. She was also simply sad, because it wasn't quite what she wanted.
Marijana tried to explain her actions in terms of wanting to contest the institution of the festival itself, of art, of the artist and her role in the society. Coherence, a logical explanation were missing, though. One goes through rebellion for rebellion's sake at the age of fifteen, but if an artist experiences it as a kind of "art for art's sake", then perhaps she ought to look for a better motivation or... occupation. My recollection of the "rebel without a cause", Istvan Kantor, is somewhat different, and so is that of Marijana herself in one of her performances set in a Serbian tradition: then she appeared to me as someone, who has roots, but lives here and now. Her performance at EPAF was surely the fruit of a workshop with Ray Langenbach, but it seems to be somewhat unripe.
The juxtaposition of the stances described above made me think of the Eastern way of being and living, thousands of years of culture of work with mind and of constant struggle with one's ego: taming it, disciplining it and, when necessary, giving in to it. Of work on expanding one's consciousness and the possibilities of "here and now". The extreme opposite of this stance is the stance of ego drifting like a raft on the sea of unconsciousness. I only hope that this discussion has brought in the understanding that contestation for contestation's sake is merely a somewhat overintelectualised cove, from which it is still possible to set sail on the wide waters of real ideas and motivations.
One of the more interesting moments during the discussion was Cui Tao's formulation of the conclusion that the key element of performance is the body, in which everything takes place: from breath and vital functions up to the birth of ideas. By analysing the stance of artists from China, by listening to their views, we could find how they see it, how they understand it, how they realise it. All of them, even Ting-Tong Chang, who based his performance on a machine - a giant crossbow shooting eggs at a tin wall, and who still had to operate it manually with a remote control and to walk over to it from time to time in order to replenish eggs in the feed mechanism.
The last two aspects, which were touched upon during the discussion, are a question of theatricality/dramatisation of performance, also in reference to the place of action itself.
During the course of HP Process duet's work one of the computers froze and half of the image on the screen disappeared. After a moment of noticeable concern, the artists started their action, but in a different manner. This resulted in a spontaneous, but rather predictable and slightly "verbose" theatrical ending. Similar objections could be formulated not only against these performers, but also against e.g. Nathalie Mba Bilkoro, whose work, albeit unusually beautiful, made the impression of the obvious and had something of a theatrical play in it. However, in the course of the discussion, we realised how important the place of performing is in performance art. Surely her performance was received differently in the almost theatrical room at the Centre for Contemporary Art Laboratory and differently in the open space, especially in an industrial or poor district of a large city.
All intended events have been realised and concluded. Further actions are still before us. They will certainly be in the same spirit, because most artists present in Warsaw are going to perform also in Lublin. We are going to further explore similarities and differences, confront different stances and learn from each other. I am very curious what is going to happen, whether there will be iterations of actions, what new qualities will appear in this undertaking - and I treat it as one, at least for the one reason that the whole organisation team is almost the same in Lublin as it is in Warsaw, in the Polish East and West.
Thinking about beautiful performances of Luciana Freire D'Anunciacao and Łukasz Trusewicz, I came to wish for a new theme for the next festival. Luciana based her performance on dance and called it With Myself. Listening to the backstairs discussions made me conclude that many people did not understand it almost at all. For me, it was a beautiful tale of a woman being alone with herself, being close - attentively and with affection, performed with great sensitivity and openness.
I noticed a similar feature in Łukasz's work: there, having just entered adulthood, a man creates an object, which he wishes to destroy for some reason. Maybe in order to try his energy, his power, his need for fight - with matter, with himself? Because this product of his work no longer appealed to him (wasn't he pleased with it, as before his action he had stroked it lovingly with his hand?) or because of something else, he hit it several times with a stick. The ruinous tool is totally destroyed, a stone "ideograph" - the letter O - stays intact. The artist discards the tool and walks away, leaving also his work behind...
In our world, the world of mentally masculinised women and mentally femininised men, of gender inequality, of divisions and prejudices, of hurting one another at the privacy of home and outside, of training for socially acceptable roles from early years (I cannot get Libera's works out of my mind), finally of stereotypes and the battle of sexes, there is still much to be done. Maybe the time has come for men and women to stop fighting, to meet up and to learn from each other? To find beauty and strength in themselves, like Luciana and Łukasz did? To find them in each other?
And so I keep dreaming that one day such a festival will take place: the encounter of femininity and masculinity, showing each other how we experience it all - just as Luciana and Łukasz did, just as I once could see it in the work of Monika Günther and Ruedi Schill...
translated by Anna Lycett
New Territories 2011, Glasgow
Judith Röthlisberger's performance
A ginger-haired girl enters the stage and puts two shirts on: a white one and a rusty coloured one. The white one is made of beautiful thin silk; the rusty coloured one is made of shiny organdie. Both are a few metres long, and so to a large degree they just lie on the floor, as if they were carelessly spread there and abandoned.
She puts a ginger fox skin on her right arm, so that the fox's muzzle is placed on her hand. In her hands she's got a tiny accordion similar to the Russian bayan. And so she begins her "fox dance": she lurks and suddenly lets go of the instrument. The gentle sound makes the audience freeze together with the "fox". After a moment, when the sound ceases, she turns and it is as if she looked anxiously in a different direction, and again there is a sound coming from the instrument.
After the breakup, the props stay on stage: the instrument, the "fox sleeve" and a trail of lucent, delicate clothing. Again I freeze in awe: how little is needed. And a paradox: how much of courage there can be in fear.
At last I approach the white textile and touch it: the touch amplifies the feeling of subtlety and delicacy springing from the performance we only just saw. I feel like holding the silk against my face, but instead of doing this, I say outloud: silk.
translated by Anna Lycett