Archive for the ‘artistic process’ Category
So I have a lot of thoughts on performance art. Many of them come down to the idea that when you push it to the extremes (which is one of art’s natural habitats) it becomes about enacting extremes on the body. Extreme pain (so many), extreme pleasure (Seed Bed comes to mind), sex, nudity, privation, stillness, repetitive motion… so many extremes of what the body is and what it can take. An extension of that is the extremes of emotional exposure as seen in and through the body. There are many interesting, important approaches to this, but I feel like it is ground well covered, and not what I’m interested in for my own work.
My work isn’t about me or my body or extremes, it’s about creating a platform, structure, even a ritual space for others to engage with ideas I present: with each other, with themselves, and now, possibly with me.
Ritual space is something I have been interested in for as long as I can remember. It was central to my studies in my first undergrad in History of Religions. I took a wonderful anthropology-based (Turner-centric) course on Ritual, but I saw ritual in everything from folk tales to architecture and football games. Ritual space is throughout our secular and personal lives- the ritual space of a hot bath with candles, a classroom, a bar, a gallery or a public library. These spaces have forms, rules, and roles which set them apart from other spheres and spaces in our lives and they create feelings and thoughts unique to those spaces. In these spaces we are ourselves, and yet ourselves in a specific role or character to fit the space, observing certain rituals of that space (a 3rd grade teacher will be themselves at both a bar and their classroom, but different selves).
In #DadaTarot I am creating a ritual space for the action to happen in. That action requires a mediator with a certain level of otherness and authority. A slight change of clothing and demeanor is enough to create this. I am still very much being myself, but I have given myself certain rules (some of which I specifically gave myself permission to break). The rules, the clothing, demeanor and the simple object of a table give me the structure of a ritual space for the piece to work in. Given the nature of Dada I didn’t even allow myself anything fancy for the table- it is a ready-made cocktail table and the covering was the first plain black piece of fabric on the top of my fabric pile, not sewn or tidied in any way.
For this piece, the Role of Barker/carnival worker has to be there to set the interaction apart from other gallery interaction, but also to get the participants to enter in a questioning way. These roles are known for being untrustworthy. I want people to come to this project with skepticism. For this piece I would absolutely not dress in any kind of clothing associated with actual fortune-tellers with very good reason: my role does not actually involve doing the fortune-telling. That I leave to the participants. The barker’s role is to bring bystanders into the action and tell them what the rules of the game are, which is what I do.
Me in the role as artist would to explain the piece and how it fits into my work. In the case of me performing in this piece (as opposed to someone else performing the piece while I stand next to it as Artist) I mostly steer clear of this. If they press, I mostly answer as Barker, not artist as to the nature of the piece. That said, I am remaining myself. This performance allows for expressing what I want to say, holding back, and then allowing myself to be pressed for an opinion, even as I say I should not really be giving it… which is what good Barkers do too.
I suspect more of my work is heading in this direction. Most of the participatory works need some kind of “baby sitter” during interactions to explain the interactive process to people and to keep people (especially drunk people) from breaking them or walking away with parts of the art. Mostly the ritual space of Gallery with the role of Gallery assistants covers this. Now that I am looking this aspect of my work in the face and acknowledging that what I am creating with my installations is ritual space (inside the ritual space of gallery/museum/etc.), it logically follows to incorporate ritual roles for certain works.
*note: I am fully aware that not all performance art involves extremes, and there is a lot of performance art out there (physically extreme and not) which I admire. A lot of it is politically extreme and I applaud that too. This studio blog post is about my own artistic path.
I’m nearly there! I just need some more blues in the medium darkness range of all hues. Here you can see on the white plastic sheeting some of the yarn I am dyeing over to create all the richness and depth of color in the yarn for the piece.
I am contemplating using a different size of plaque for the statements because of the nature of German (more text needs more space). This would bring the format closer to “hello my name is” labels, which I like, but I need to be sure I can find the right sized stickers for the look I want. I could physically do the text without stickers, but the label/name tag/address reference label stickers give is important to me for this piece. I may end up ordering metric ones.
From the first iterations of Identity Tapestry I’ve been wanting to create it both in a museum space and in another language. I’m pleased to announce that this May I’ll be doing both! Identity Tapestry will be up as part of the upcoming show “Identity” for four months starting this May at the Vögele Cultural Center in Pfäffikon (just outside Zurich).
I will be flying out for the install and I’m incredibly excited. Any iteration demands a look at which statements to include or leave or if new ones ought to be added, especially in a new area or situation. In this case the language use should be especially interesting because there are essentially two languages at work there: High German and Swiss German. One is the official language which is used for nearly all text, the other is the language of intimate conversations and the inside of one’s own head. Apparently it is only recently that the Swiss-German language has appeared in text, and then mostly in text messages, and only to very intimate friends. How I approach these languages and navigate translations will add new levels of complexity to the piece. Thankfully the curatorial staff is wonderful and I have a local Zurich-raised person who is willing to consult with me on language as well.
I’ve been away from being public about my art for a little while now. I’ve only applied to a single program, I’ve written no blog posts, showed no work and even turned down a few shows. I needed a break where I could think my thoughts without offering them to the world.
Years ago I might have pushed on, and possibly had a breakdown. I’ve learned better. During the course of my recently completed MFA program six people I love died. Three of my four grandparents, one of whom was like a second mother to me. Two mentors. One friend and fellow artist to suicide.
Just on their own MFA programs are difficult, intense cauldrons of emotion and ego and challenge and intensity of ideas and beliefs. They are the crucibles that forge us… those of us who don’t crack. The ones that did crack were measured in the bulging mailboxes and empty studio spaces at the end of each year, and there were more than a few. We put ourselves on the line, our ideas, our thoughts, our work, and those of us who are willing, our loves and lives and beliefs too. Of course, the current fashion is cynicism and snarkyness (which doesn’t call on people to put themselves out so far) but for me being on the line it is what makes the art have a soul, and while Soul doesn’t matter to some, and there is some good purely intellectual/aesthetic art, it matters very much to me.
After the thesis show I had immediate offers for shows and commissions- wonderful opportunities, but not the breath of air I needed. For a full year after it I was busy, during which there was another death, the final grandparent. They all lived full lives, all died over 94, but the loss is ours and never easy. The situation of being in constant physical pain was one factor I had throughout all three years, as was being the main caretaker of my young daughter during a period where my husband was so busy he rarely even got weekends off. There were other significant pressures I won’t list. It was a hard three years. It was also intensely productive and important.
At the same time I was incredibly fortunate. I didn’t have to pull my hair out over money. I had love and good friends and whether I wanted a break or not I those commissions and shows just dropped into my lap- nearly every vacation during the MFA program as well as after it. I didn’t have to look for a single show after I graduated- I didn’t have time for any more, but when I saw the pause in the stream, I took the break instead of hunting for the next one. I shut down the blog and set out to take care of everything in my life that had been held together with sealing wax for three years. I did things for the fun of them, I saw the people I love, I experienced new things and got new ideas.
Like many artists, I have depression. I have anxiety and panic attacks. It is almost a cliche that artists are tortured souls and some of us think we can’t work without that (I disagree, but it is different). Chronic pain adds its own layer to one’s process. Most people looking at me would have no idea about the first two and many would never know about the pain either. There were many classes and critiques where I was clenching my fists not to scream from the physical pain in my back and concentrating hard on keeping a normal face. I have many strategies for dealing with it all. I kept on, put one foot in front of the other, did all the things I needed to do and held everything together and met every deadline, did my best work… and when I had an opening I did the sane thing I would not have done 10 years ago, and rested.
You see two other people died during that time, acquaintances, but each with a compelling message. One was another suicide from depression- someone who worked himself into the ground and didn’t acknowledge the care he needed to take of himself, he pushed himself too far. The other was a car crash, a terrible random thing that could take any of us at any moment. When I resurfaced those deaths reminded me again not to take a moment for granted, and not to put taking care of myself last. I even discovered something to help my back and for the first time in seven years I’m having multiple days without serious pain. I’m breathing again.
So here I am, back at work. My mind has been plotting new art, my hands have been busy, sketches and ideas form. It’s time to step back in to show my work and share my thoughts again. I leave you with this TED talk by Elizabeth Gilbert on creative genius and depression.
***Addition: Wonderfully, when I moved on to check my email I found an invitation to include a specific piece in an exciting museum show in another country waiting in my inbox. A well-timed confirmation to stepping back in indeed.
My sketches are always like this- rough, scribbly, and somehow they work the best for me- loose enough for me to imagine different details. But until the other even the loosest sketch of the physical part of my Endangered Languages piece weren’t jelling enough for any sketch to make me happy.
I had been hitting a major wall with the work and it was keeping me up at night for weeks as I tossed image after image and idea after idea in my head. Two days ago I had a great conversation with a friend that helped me break through. He has helped me document my work in video and photography but more importantly he is always a great person to brainstorm with (there are two pieces we’ve thought out together that I think need to be made as collaborative works).
The thing is the process is so often in the mind. I visualize and discard so much before I start making these days. Now without having physically built anything, I suddenly have a pretty clear picture of the finished piece. Now that it’s there I can sketch and mock up and I can start building like a maniac. I’m going to build a mock-up for size and relationship to the body before I build the main object. I want to get the height and tilt angle that way. It should recall natural history museum displays… but with some unexpected twists in action.
Another thing hidden (besides things in my brain) is the thoughts and concepts behind the work. You will notice I don’t tend to explain my concepts here. I have them, usually intensely thought out (what some people would consider over-thought out), but I want the concept to be experienced and seen and heard, not just explained before people see the actual work. I want them to walk up and discover it, not come in with a thesis on it. There is also a sort of delicacy in certain stages of creation, where if you explain too much (especially to the wrong people at the wrong time) it leeches the life out of it in your mind, or it kills your drive to make it.
At the same time, I love revealing the physical process. I like to show the beauty and madness of the actual objects-in-progress and the physical experience of making the thing rather than explain everything up front.
You’ll notice the Academy of Sciences sticker in my sketchbook. I went with my daughter after school to get a look at the display cases, both old and new. When I go into a museums or place with the intent to take notes I always put the ticket or sticker or write the place at the top. Sometimes the page is otherwise blank.
I am gathering endangered words for an artwork and I need speakers of endangered languages to participate in my project.
I have been invited to be part of an exhibition on Endangered Languages curated by Hanna Regev which will begin at Root Division in San Francisco.
I need to collect audio samples of certain words in endangered languages for the piece I will include in the show. There is a physical element to the work, but the text and the sound of each language are essential to it.
I am looking for words that say something that isn’t easily translatable into more commonly spoken languages, possibly words that hints at the culture. For example: “tattybogle” is a lovely Scotts word (a language on the endangered list) but it directly translates into the English “scarecrow” so I would not count it. The word “tingo” (Pascuense , Easter Island) is better. On Altalang.com it is translated as “the act of taking objects one desires from the house of a friend by gradually borrowing all of them.” This is a word which gives you a window into a culture that would produce such a word and takes a clever sentence to translate into a more commonly spoken language.
What I need for my work is words like that from Endangered languages, spoken and explained on audio by speakers of those languages. Amazingly I’m already finding a fair few… on the internet. Mostly at this point it is friends of friends, but I hope to expand. If you speak an endangered language and would like to be part of the piece, please contact me at email@example.com with the subject heading “endangered languages”.
One component of the show is the effect of technology on languages. Are dominant Languages like English, Mandarin and Spanish just taking over because of media and the internet or does the internet create opportunities to connect and encourage speakers of endangered languages? My thought is probably both, but I am finding that the internet is fantastic for connecting with people who speak endangered languages- something that may itself become part of the piece.
UPDATE (12/1): I am still collecting Audio samples through the end of November. Please contact me if you can contribute. You may remain anonymous in the public project information if you like. It’s basically a 15-30min Skype, Google Hangouts or Facetime call (which you can turn the video part of off) where I record the word or phrase, your translation and a personal thought or story about them.
To see if a language you speak is on the endangered list see Wikipedia’s Lists of Endangered Languages by area.
The United Nations has an interactive map of endangered languages here.
Another great interactive map is here on the Endangered Languages Project site.
For more information on me and my work as an artist, see my website at www.marymarch.com (I suggest the installation and “About the Artist sections in this case).