A Life Without Art, How Barren That Would Be
Good news, dear reader. You too can learn to be a performance artist and thereby make the world tremble. You could, for instance, attend Sandrine Schaefer’s course in Durational Performance Art, which is run by the Studio for Interrelated Media at the Massachusetts College of Art. The ripened fruits of this intense and demanding study can be witnessed in the video below. Among its gems are the vigorous crayoning works of Nicole Dube, complete with off-camera grunting and sounds of exertion; a 90-minute display of marker pen misuse and poorly choreographed wrestling by Ambar Janual and Luke Ryba; and Darien Stankowski’s haphazard scraping of a wooden door, the purpose of which remains stubbornly unobvious and hard to care about.
However, the video begins with the colossal radicalism of Elaine Thap, a woman who refers to herself as “they,” “their” and “them,” and whose talents are described thusly, if only by herself – sorry, themself:
Elaine Thap uses identity in their work to convey layers of being and relationships… Taking the form of social constructs and the irony of it, they are asking for critical communication and concocting the politics of identity. Performance allows them to fabricate situations of childhood trauma and adult responsibility. They seek intersectional meaning and memory in others by the act of othering.
Ah yes, the politics of identity, intersectional meaning and of course othering. How terribly non-conformist. Now brace yourselves, people. I don’t want anyone fainting from the daring of it all:
After that treat, you’ll be thrilled to hear that Ms Thap and her associates can be seen in action – no doubt transgressing something or other – this coming Friday, 8pm, at Mobius, 55 Norfolk Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Admission a mere $10.
In other news, fellow performance artist Sandrine Schaefer, whose protégés you’ve just admired, has been awarded the Boston Institute of Contemporary Art’s 2015 Foster prize, previously valued at $25,000. The institute’s senior curator, Jenelle Porter, describes the prize recipients as “amazing artists” who are “compelling” and yet sadly, inexplicably, “underfunded.” The exact sum of money given to each of this year’s artists has not been disclosed. Ms Schaefer’s own creative immensity can be studied in the video below, in which the artist “infiltrates public space.”
You may now resume your humdrum, unartistic lives.
A life without pretentious smug wankers attempting to pick my pocket because they’re so very worth it!
How wonderful that would be!
As Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes fame, back in the 1990s) says, “…art is a private language for sophisticates to congratulate themselves on their superiority to the rest of the world. As my artist’s statement explains, my work is utterly incomprehensible and is therefore full of deep significance.“
But… but Robert… How can you not be deeply moved by a full hour of uninterrupted radical door scraping? Followed by an hour of some hooded bint scraping knives together? See how she thrills the crowd.
My daughter’s friend is having performance art lessons (seven years old).
See how she thrills the crowd.
I don’t think he’s looking at her art.
I don’t think he’s looking at her art.
Heh. But the chap seems so… studious and earnest.
Nicole Dube is really good at crayoning-in, though. She stays within the lines and everything.
I don’t think he’s looking at her art.
Worst. Date. Ever.
and yet sadly, inexplicably, “underfunded.”
And yet sadly, inexplicably, still at large.
And yet sadly, inexplicably, still at large.
You mean you weren’t swayed by three hours of radical pavement mopping?
No pleasing some people.
On a positive note it all seems to have a healthy stay active keep fit masturbatory aspect to it with evidence that peer review plays a strong part.
But… but Robert… How can you not be deeply moved by a full hour of uninterrupted radical door scraping?
I read this at first as “racial door scraping”. Would fit right in at the local university, I suppose.
“Three hours of radical pavement mopping”.
I liked the bit where she was doing the writing, whilst dressed as Captain America’s radfem niece, with an eating disorder, and some tatts.
When the equivalent of the Red Skull failed to show up I must admit that I lost interest rapidly.
That took about five seconds, by the way. Yeah, that long- I think it means that I just care more than some of the cynics who frequent this place.
You do have to give the mopper and scraper some credit, though, as both instances are probably the first times in their (both of them , not just the singular their) lives they have done anything vaguely resembling manual labor.
Watching the first video (OK, the first 1:22 of the first video) I had a capital idea, though it seems F M Muldoon may have beaten me to it. If someone could organize these performances of deck swabbing, door scraping, etc. on a broad scale all across the country on a daily, say 8 hour a day basis, there could be produced a work of art that is unarguably worth its value, regardless of the “eye of the beholder” qualifier. Or perhaps special studios where these artists can perform! Someplace with a slogan! Kunst macht frei!
Mind: Blown.
Mind: Blown.
Don’t faint on me, dammit.
Performance allows them to fabricate situations of childhood trauma and adult responsibility.
Okay, not to dampen the hilarity of all this, but I had a friend who trolled in these waters in university because many of these bints were rather undiscriminating in their choice of sexual partners. According to him, virtually all of them had tales of childhood sexual and/or physical abuse to tell. How much of that was true and how much attention-seeking look-at-me victim posturing is unknowable, but when I see these people I find it hard to laugh. I suspect many of them are working out (or more accurately, not working out) some very deep-rooted damage.
All the shit used to be called doing dumb stuff while killing time. …. it’s for year olds … those people are losers and nothing more ….
a full hour of uninterrupted radical door scraping
Door scraping and muttering, David. Don’t forget the muttering.
Door scraping and muttering, David. Don’t forget the muttering.
Oh yes. That too.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
“I forbid you.”
Scrape, scrape, SCREECH.
“It’s none of your business.”
Scrape, SCREECH, scrape.
That’s deep poetry, that is.
Kunst macht frei!
Wouldn’t work. From where could you “ethically source” yardbrushes, Nitromors, various things with sharp blades, etc. for these proposed ateliers?
Exactly….
The participants would be too traumatised to
workseek intersectional meaning and memory in others by the act of othering.Shame, really, because sweeping up, or stripping old pine doors and furniture for other people will still earn you a few bob in my part of the North West of England.
That’s deep poetry, that is.
Meh.
I prefer the classics.
Execrable, but also totally banal. When will it end.
ssshhhhlurp
apropos
I suspect many of them are working out (or more accurately, not working out) some very deep-rooted damage.
I rather think that their (the plural this time, not the singular their) main malfunction is that for their whole lives they (plural again) have been so cosseted and fed the pap of the esteem movement that they (again the plural they) never emotionally advanced out of infancy.
That applies also to the pretentious twits such as the people studying the knife scraper, though it would be an interesting debate as to whether the “artists” or observers are the more pretentious.
I make performance art every day. Usually around 6:30am right before my shower.
Anyone remember the Hancock’s Half Hour episode “The Poetry Society”? That was more than 50 years ago so it’s reassuring to know that the creative flame still burns bright. I wonder whether the enforced munificence of the taxpayer has anything do with that. I’d get on the gravy train myself if I thought I’d be able to stand the company I’d have to keep.
Meanwhile the market for ONLINE gaming is set to reach 111 Billion USD.
Darien Stankowski’s haphazard scraping of a wooden door, the purpose of which remains stubbornly unobvious and hard to care about.
I thought you were joking. I now wish you were.
I thought you were joking. I now wish you were.
You do have to marvel at the pretensions involved. Well, no, you don’t have to. Given what’s on offer, you could, quite reasonably, not give a shit and do something more interesting instead. But if these people want us to pay attention, and it seems they do, they can hardly be surprised if our attention is drawn to their incompetence, conformity and bad faith. Which is to say, the more obvious features of what it is they’re doing, or pretending to do.
And remember, the fatuous noodling above has been encouraged and accepted as adequate, even exemplary, something to display. It’s supposedly the result of study. There doesn’t seem to be any mechanism for deterring tosspottery, or any expectation that tosspottery will be discouraged, criticised or even remarked upon. Have any of the artists above had one of their peers or educators take them quietly to one side and say, “Actually, what you’re doing is the most colossal wank, and transparently so. Just how dumb do you think we are?”
“Actually, what you’re doing is the most colossal wank, and transparently so. Just how dumb do you think we are?”
Well, I’m willing to bet a significant number of teachers have already been there, done that to some degree. Who are they to judge?.
I’m willing to bet a significant number of teachers have already been there, done that to some degree.
And I suppose if the person teaching you thinks this makes her an artist, and has friends and associates who think this makes them artists, and if they all agree with each other about how clever and radical they are, then you’re pretty much screwed. Unless of course you’re every bit as talentless and dishonest as they are. In which case, huzzah.
Speaking of yarn related artistry…
Great art, or mental illness?. You be the judge.
btw there is actual applause at the end. Encouraging this sort of behaviour should be a punishable offence. A pie in the face, perhaps. That’s what clowns deserve.
Speaking of yarn related artistry…
It’s so potent. Like seeing the world anew.
But if these people want us to pay attention, and it seems they do, they can hardly be surprised if our attention is drawn to their incompetence, conformity and bad faith.
The difficulty is that the hordes who pay to pay attention are not the ones who point out the incompetence and conformity and thus the proverbial self-licking ice-cream cone (or self wrapping eggplant) of inanity is perpetuated.
and thus the proverbial self-licking ice-cream cone (or self wrapping eggplant) of inanity is perpetuated.
It does suggest a profound and institutionalised lack of integrity.
It does suggest a profound and institutionalised lack of integrity.
It goes beyond that, I think, in that operating in their frame of reference they see themselves as chock-a-block with integrity, just as the Mafioso considers himself as a man of integrity because he strictly follows omerta, and we who do not lap at their font of genius are Morlocks lacking in integrity.
When I was a much younger Muldoon, when actual hippies roamed the Earth, this nonsense appeared to have its beginnings, Marcel Duchamp hanging urinals on walls and calling it art notwithstanding. At the time I was attending a school that in its art departments were schools for craftsmen (as un-PC as that term is now), commercial artists, and visual artists. Performance art at the time simply meant the theatre crowd. At any rate, that which I got to witness was that the craftsmen and commie artists were regularly raked over the coals (generally constructively) during peer critiques of their products, but the visual artists never were, except when one produced that which would be considered “traditional” drawings, paintings, or whatever. The visual artists tended to look with disdain upon the craftsmen – pardon, craftpersons – as mere product makers regardless of the actual artistry involved in the furniture, ceramics, or whatever.
Though it sounds as if blinding flash of the obvious, I would suggest that the primary cause of this dreck has been the rise of narcissism and arrested emotional development as a byproduct of the self-esteem movement and its handmaiden, relativism, all of which have led to an utter abandonment of standards and technique that actually require talent. Everyone got the proverbial gold star.
Unfortunately the half century or so that this nonsense in the art world has been festering has led to its becoming institutionalized, and I fear that the only cure will be economic conditions so bad that it will be starved out of existence for lack of funding, whether parental, state, or foundation.
I will now report to the re-education camp so I can learn the profundity of rubbing crayons on sandpaper.
That’s a great point — I wonder if I could get funding by declaring that me sitting quietly at my desk and typing is, in fact, a deep work of art. Then I could get paid twice! Or I could get paid to do my yard work, because it’s about — I don’t know, man’s struggle with nature or something. This opens up all kinds of new avenues for things that claim to be art!
Some nice cleavage shots on the second to last. I had assumed that it would go into a little girl on girl action but perhaps I misunderstood the meaning of performance art.
Still, if the lady involved wishes to contact me I am confident with my aid and direction we can overcome her underfunding problem. And increase her audience.
That’s a great point — I wonder if I could get funding by declaring that me sitting quietly at my desk and typing is, in fact, a deep work of art.
If you can convincingly impersonate an infinite number of monkeys I’ll watch the 2 minute condensed version of that.
I don’t think he’s looking at her art.
“t” or “se.” It’s only a few letters after all.
I was trying to work out if the artists waddle in the first video were because she’s a bit of a lard arse or as the result of artistic expression. Any thoughts?
It goes beyond that, I think, in that operating in their frame of reference they see themselves as chock-a-block with integrity, just as the Mafioso considers himself as a man of integrity because he strictly follows omerta, and we who do not lap at their font of genius are Morlocks lacking in integrity.
Ehn.
No.
Competent Mafioso could at least demonstrate competence in operation. Do ignore the Disney version, Caribbean pirates were definitely known for having completely thought out, quite sound and valid economic practices.
Though it sounds as if blinding flash of the obvious, I would suggest that the primary cause of this dreck has been the rise of narcissism and arrested emotional development as a byproduct of the self-esteem movement and its handmaiden, relativism, all of which have led to an utter abandonment of standards and technique that actually require talent. Everyone got the proverbial gold star.
That, instead.
Hipsters, by definition, are not the counterculture, they are the lackingculture.
Etc.
I think it’s safe to say the human race has long since reached its zenith and is now fast gathering momentum on the downhill slide.
The young lady beginning at the 8:00-minute mark is quite attractive, an outlier for the genre. I was hoping it would be one of those “strip and smear chocolate all over her body” type of performances. Sadly, no. Instead she starting whining on about something and the magical moment evaporated for me.
I am impressed by the “audiences of one” peppered throughout the performances, although I believe the young man in the final performance simply wanted to get close to a woman, at any cost.