▽ MARINA ABRAMOVIC

Marina Abramovic, the acclaimed “grand-mother of performance art” is a laudable example of the self-sacrificing artist who is more than often inclined to surpass boundaries that many artists seldom dare to transcend. The Artist is present is a documental film currently screening at FACT, which profiles Abramovic as she prepares for her show at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The title of the film reflects the name of the piece that it primarily regards – The Artist is Present; this piece lasted three months at MOMA and invited the public to take turns sitting opposite Abramovic, keeping her gaze for as long as they wished.  One may regards this as a simple concept for a piece of performance art, but this documental film reveals its true potency with many of Abramovic’s sitters having had extremely emotional responses - some even moved to tears.

Personally, I found the film extremely emotional and I was particularly enamoured by its brief regard to Abramovic’s former relationship with fellow performance artist Ulay (Frank Uwe Laysiepen).  Arguably the most moving part of film is when Ulay pays a visit to Abramovic’s exhibition and becomes amongst one of the many sitters. Abramovic opens her eyes, and to her surprise sitting facing her is her lost love, Ulay. One undoubtedly feels the powerful connection they share and is touched as they gaze adoringly at one another through tear-filled eyes of devotion and love. Though they share no discourse there is such a magnitude of emotion resonating between them that withholds so much power. Ironically, this scenario was an uncanny immitation of the performance piece, Nightsea Crossing in which Abramovic and Ulay sat silent and motionless facing one other for several days.  

Everyone whom I have spoken to with regards to the film has positively responded to it and I would denote this success as a direct result of its poignancy. We are invited into the most intimate areas of Abramovic’s personal life, such as her love life and childhood; therefore, just as to the sitters within The Artist is Present she is made extremely vulnerable to us as viewers also, and we are thus inevitably inclined to react empathetically.  In my opinion, if an artist is able to encompass emotion within their work they can obtain an infinite power over the viewer, and Abramovic, I feel, clearly exemplifies this. Over the past 40 years Abramovic has been continuously bothered by the question “But why is this art?” and considering the passion and effort that goes into her work I think this is truly saddening. If I was to answer this question for Abramovic I would suggest that her work is ‘art’ because it pushes boundaries and opens minds; it challenges conventions and possesses a thriving degree of emotion. Abramovic’s incomprehensible strength and meritorious dedication to her work completely enthralled me. Her good humour and colourful personality made the film as entertaining as it was insightful. On the whole, I would definitely recommend this film, as it evidently demonstrates why performance art should not have its artistic quality questioned as much as it sadly is, even within today’s progressive landscape of contemporary art.

▽ JOHN AKOMFRAH

John Akomfrah’s The Unfinished Conversation is a multi-layered three-screen installation, which aims to decipher the complexity of ‘identity’ through questioning whether it is entirely intrinsic and something that we possess no designation of, or something in which we are able to masterfully fabricate ourselves. Constructed from archived images and film, it regards the life of cultural theorist Stuart Hall. It primarily addresses his experiences of moving to Britain as an immigrant and how the subject of ‘belonging’ has been a constant struggle for him from the moment he was born. Within the picture Hall explains that he always felt he was something of an outsider - even within his own family, as he was three skin shades darker than them all. This inspires the concept of physically belonging somewhere, but at the same time, feeling emotionally detached and alienated.  In light of the picture’s depiction of societal isolation centralised around race and culture, the biennial’s theme of Hospitality has obviously been responded to, but not in a positive light. It seems to convey a sense of inhospitableness, particularly in a societal sense.

Nevertheless, I believe that the picture discusses how cultural entities such as music, art and literature can provide us with a sense of belonging, and similarly, help us to form our identity. An instance of this within the picture is when Stuart Hall talks about his first encounter with Jazz music; he speaks of how, upon his first hearing of Jazz, he instantly knew it was the music for him, and he also implies that he felt an inherent sense of belonging to the Jazz scene despite feeling a lack of it elsewhere in his life. The visuals of the picture, such as the cinematography and use of colour were very attractive and having it across three screens accentuated this. Even though I did find it quite problematic trying to observe the three screens simultaneously, I think this feature makes the viewer feel more encapsulated into the picture. The utilisation of sound is another mentionable facet, as it is used so effectively that it becomes integral to pictures screened. It is at times rather sinister and foreboding and this coincides with the sometimes violent, dark imagery of the picture.

All in all, I felt the piece was essentially a critique of the unanimously withheld belief that ‘identity’ is something inherent, which we are summoned with at birth and therefore have no control over. It dictates an empowering message - that one’s identity is something they construct themselves through their own experiences and choices. In other words, regardless of our upbringing or social background we have the power to determine the kind of person that we ultimately become.

▽ DAN GRAHAM

2-Way Mirror Cylinder Bisected By Perforated Stainless Steel by Dan Graham is the curious outdoor pavilion that currently obstructs the seductive courtyard of the Bluecoat chambers. Evocative and engaging, this piece discusses the psychological effects of architecture on the viewer, challenging their perception and comprehension of both interior and exterior spaces.  Graham approaches the biennial theme of Hospitality through an exploration of how public spaces can either seduce us or alienate us.

There were several attributes of Graham’s piece, which were reminiscent of other works that I had seen during the biennial. The fact that it is public pavilion made it evocative of Doug Aitken’s The Source; both pieces are on an initial encounter, architectural and have a dialogue with their surrounding space. On the other hand, I also it possessed some parallels to Oded Hirsch’s The Lift and its mirrored surface was a conspicuous similarity. However, on a more profound level I feel both Hirsch and Graham’s pieces have one distinct parallel – they both initially appear to lack logic and meaning, but through the context in which they appear and the way that people react to them, they become intelligible.  The mirrors within the pavilions also recalled a major theme inspired within the Kohei Yoshiyuki exhibition that I had attended a few weeks ago, as the unexpected reflections produced by the piece’s mirrors explore the voyeuristic act of watching oneself and others simultaneously. This theme of voyeurism was central to the photographic pieces by Yoshiyuki, which currently reside in the Open Eye gallery, also as a part of the biennial.

Stepping into the pavilion myself, I felt extremely uncomfortable and trapped, but then again I have never been partial to confined spaces. What caused me the most apprehension was the feeling of being physically constricted but at the same time, because there is no roof, being able to observe the boundless vastness of the sky above me. It was as if the piece had took away some of my physical freedom, but simultaneously allowed me to observe the limitless space that existed outside of the pavilion. It was as though I was being tantalised by the piece, as I was able to observe a boundless degree of physical space that I did not at the time possess. The whole experience left me feeling rather disorientated but it had thus clearly opened my mind to the physiological effect that architecture and space can have on my own being. The mirrored surface of the pavilion prompted further contemplation of my form and how it inhabited the space. What I had ultimately drawn from the piece was that it has a conspicuous centralisation around ‘self’ and how one is physically and mentally stimulated by tangible space.

▽ PATRICK MURPHY

Patrick Murphy’s Belonging is an engaging response to this year’s biennial theme Hospitality. Around 150 brightly coloured birds adorn both the interior and exterior of the Walker art gallery in a laudable attempt to denote the nature of impermanence, as well as the concept of the uninvited guest.

Commonly regarded as a familiar eye sore, a nuisance and banished from city centres, pigeons are utilised as a societal symbol within Murphy’s piece to comment on both acceptance and marginalisation.  Murphy contradicts the typical urban context of pigeons in this piece – he depicts them as colorful, welcome visitors, evidently challenging the inhospitable reception they tend to receive. The pigeons can be seen to represent any social group or individual who is unable to find a place of innate belonging and acceptance, as well as those who frequently feel inclined to take ‘flight’. I believe that the piece not only addresses the concept of belonging in a physical sense, but in a physiological and emotional sense also. For instance, one may feel that they physically belong somewhere, like their hometown or place of residence, but mentally or emotionally they may feel differently; in other words, it is possible that a person could be discriminated or alienated in a place that they physically belong.  Despite the aesthetic artificiality of the piece and its initial sense of playfulness, there are obviously some profound and moving messages within it. It is certainly a shame that the aesthetic does not initially promote this to the viewer. I feel that the playful aesthetic, which is primarily evoked by the lurid array of colours it possesses, may be liable to falsely convincing viewers that it is more of a novelty piece than it is an engaging and evocative one.

In a sociological sense I also feel that the piece is a response to hierarchy, as being a familiar sighting within the city, the pigeons can be regarded as an emblem of commonplace, and thus the everyday working class individual. With these arguable symbols of the working class infesting the Victorian architecture of the Walker we are reminded that the accessibility of the gallery has developed since it was first established in 1877. During the Victorian era the working class individual would obviously be less welcome to a gallery such as Walker than they are in present day, where anyone regardless of social background, age or culture can take advantage of its engaging collections.

Having recently visited the Walker and having seen this piece in the flesh I believe it is unquestionable that Murphy’s lurid flock of artificial birds have a conspicuous presence amongst the striking Victorian architecture of the Walker and William Brown Street.  I just hope that the conspicuous aesthetic adopted by Murphy within this piece does not distract its viewers from the profundity and evocative nature of its interesting sociological context.