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.
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.
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