As Mr C and I were waiting to enter Frieze art fair we could hear the sound of a woman’s voice blowing across Regent’s Park: “Apples. Apples. Apples. Avocado. Almond. Artichoke. Artichoke. Applesauce.” I looked at Mr C and said, “It must be performance art.” He gave me his art-is-bollocks face and retorted, “No it’s not, it’s someone reading out their shopping list!” There are many exchanges like this in our marriage. We were hanging around for a while and I found myself getting pulled into the grocery list recital - “Halibut. Ham. Ham. Ham. Honey.” What comes after honey? Horseradish? Hummus? I wondered why the iteration of certain items and contemplated what list I would read out if I were to create a piece of performance art. Probably a list of paint: “Dianthus pink. Naples yellow. Pyrole red. Quinacridone Magenta.”
At the weekend we went to see the Rambert Dance company’s performance of Peaky Blinders. It was incredible! I admit I’m biased because I’m a huge Peaky Blinders fan. I remember how thrilled I was to hear my accent on the small screen and to see story lines that reflected the industrial heartland of Britain where I grew up. At one point of the performance I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the shapes being made by the dancers’ bodies, sublimely in sync with the music, that tears came to my eyes and I thought, if I die now it will be okay. Great art will do that to you.
On the tube ride back home a man sitting opposite me took out a rubik’s cube from his satchel. It wasn’t the 3x3 rubik’s cube I remember from my school days, but a much more complicated 4x4 cube that I’d never seen before. Barely looking at the cube, the man deftly flicked his fingers, clicking the coloured cubes into place within minutes, then he jumbled up the puzzle and began again. This time a few eyes glanced up from their iphones and watched as he repeated his show, twisting and turning the cubes while glancing around the carriage. By his fourth act several folks were watching and slight smiles appeared as his hand flourishes became quicker and more theatrical. I hoped he’d catch my eye so I could give him a thumbs up but he avoided all contact and nonchalantly repeated the performance until he left the tube 15 minutes later. As he left the train I thought, he knew exactly what he was doing! What a show.
All life can be performance art and all art has an element of performance. Great artists, whether they’re professionals on the stage or a guy on the tube, know how to pull the audience in and focus attention. I don’t know if there’s any great secret to this other than perfecting artistic skill through continual practice and I’m definitely thinking about this as I create work: what will pull the viewer in and how can I hold their focus?
In his book Art as Performance, author David Davies talks about how every object that sits in a gallery embodies the performance that took place while the artist was creating it. The piece of art holds the memory of its making, and the energy, the intention and the historical backdrop of its creator. As such, ALL art is performance art. And all art practice is also performance. I like this. It gives gravitas to what can sometimes feel futile and often frustrating. If art practice is performance, then the artist’s role must be to perform - to practice. It means that as artists we place ourselves center stage every time we enter the studio and begin dancing with our materials. We perform by making the work.
And yet…that’s not quite enough for me. As much as I have fun with my solo show in the studio, I need a witness to my work to bring the performance to a conclusion. Showing work is the final act and whether it takes place in person or online doesn’t necessarily matter, what matters is that my audience is invited into the performance as an active player. This isn’t ego driven, it’s about connecting human to human. The denouement of the performance - the exhibition/show/insta post - unknots the work from me as an artist. It offers the artwork as something communal, not personal, and gives the audience permission to receive the work in exactly the way they need to: as entertainment, as education, as inspiration, as healing…
Until next time.
Resources
Watch a preview of Rambert x Peaky Blinders here:
Art as Performance, David Davies
I like this notion of every piece of work containing the performance of its creator. I hadn’t quite thought of it that way before. I like it!