CT / MeetFactory Gallery / Enacting Stillness: An exhibition in Nine Parts
Enacting
Stillness: An Exhibition in Nine Parts
Curator: Sara ReismanOpening: June 11, 7 p.m.Exhibition duration: June 11 – August 28Artists: Rehan Ansari, Nicolas Dumit Estevez, Brendan Fernandes, Yoko
Inoue, Claudia Joskowicz, Kirsten Justesen, Clifford Owens, Jan Pfeiffer, Emily
Roysdon a Roman Štětina
When I think of stillness, I
think of staying in one place, being of one mind, without distraction. In its
most common definition, stillness is the absence of movement. To enact
stillness is to generate a contradictory state in which one actively stops,
slows down, or rests. To do this actively, with intention, is not a simple
task. Anyone who practices yoga or meditation knows that maintaining a still position
takes a certain kind of work. Even inanimate objects, even permanent architecture,
are continually shifting and vibrating according to their surroundings, which
means that stillness is an illusion.
Inspired by André Lepecki’s writings on stillness, Enacting Stillness
draws on Lepecki’s assertion that "what stillness does is to initiate the
subject in a different relationship with temporality. Stillness operates at the
level of the subject’s desire to invert a certain relationship with time, and
with certain (prescribed) corporeal rhythms. Which means that to engage in
stillness is to engage into different experiences of perceiving one’s own
presence."[1]
In this way, the idea of being
still can only be understood relative to a larger context of movement, in other
words, resistance to the larger frame of reference. Relative stillness can
manifest in intentional gestures of resistance like meditation, slowing down,
reversals, and a range of emotional states and political positions that are
against the broader cultural, political, and social landscape.
In the context of choreography,
or the artistic practice of movement, BrendanFernandes’ The Working
Move (2012) reveals moments of physical tension and strain implicit in
ballet and contemporary dance by positioning performers with plinths that
typically support sculptural objects in a gallery setting. Fernandes’ poignant
and, at times, absurd staging calls into question the value of human physical
labor in the production of art. In their isolation, these ‘working moves’
exaggerate the most basic gestures of art - its bodily expressions and modes of
display. Repurposing the visual language
of ballet and meditation, Fernandes and artists Kirsten Justesen and Roman
Stetina slow their own movements and that of other performers, down to a halt
to locate sites of activation in performative poses and gestures. Justesen’s Pedestal
Piece (2000-2002) is a test of will between a woman and the environment.
Justesen demonstrates the passage of time in relation to global warming,
setting her own body against icy ‘pedestals’ within a frozen backdrop. A double
metaphor for resistance implied by feminism and our contradictory relationship
to the planet (mother earth herself), Justesen’s Pedestal Piece series
simultaneously pushes against being silenced and stilled, as a quiet critique
of our global condition.
Stetina’s Test Room (2015)
captures, on video, a lone performance by a camera operator whose tense
choreography alludes to the steady camera rig’s original purpose as a military
tool for carrying weaponry. In his prolonged direction of the cameraman’s dance
with his camera, Stetina reinforces the painful choreography that goes into the
production of both aesthetics and war.
In thinking about different
forms of stillness, how do we engage with what it means to be ‘still here,’
after surviving adverse conditions and trauma? In 1994, choreographer Bill T.
Jones with Arnie Zane choreographed and performed Still/Here, a
performance about surviving illness that was criticized for holding up death
and dying as subjects of art. Though not directly about AIDS, the work may be
interpreted as Jones’ refusal to accept that “being HIV-positive equals
death.” New Yorker writer Arlene
Croce deemed this as the type of work that was beyond critique because of the
morbid nature of its subject matter. (At the time, Croce also refused to see
the piece performed at Brooklyn Academy of Music.)[2] Anna Kisselgoff wrote in The New York
Times how the dance performance functioned as a binary: “The ‘Still’
section frequently features stillness. ‘Here' becomes more dynamic, a stylized
revving up into a sense of reality, with its need to hope.” She went on to
write: “‘Still,’ the first part, relates to reactions to a diagnosis of serious
illness. ‘Here’ is about living with the prospect of death. The operative word
is living and in the second part, the dancing, is colored by a striking
aliveness.”[3]
Featured in Enacting
Stillness are two experimental narrative projects that transform stillness
into the here and now. Not about medical conditions but about political
aggression, Rehan Ansari’s play Unburdened (2010) and Claudia
Joskowicz’s video installation Sympathy for the Devil examine the
aftermath of political traumas experienced during the Partition of India and
World War 2, respectively.Ansari’s play Unburdened tells the
story of a Canadian journalist who is on assignment in Pakistan and staying in
the apartment of his elderly aunt and uncle. The aunt and uncle live with an
unspoken secret - an ordeal experienced by the aunt - that dates back to the
Partition of India. In three performances of Unburdened, the old couple
reverts back to a time of trauma that brought them together, drawing connections
with Europe’s history of genocide and the current refugee crisis. The set for
the play, created by Prague-based artist Jan Pfeiffer, incorporates visual research
collected by Ansari while in a residency in Karachi in 2010: political
graffiti, a backdrop of a graveyard in PECHS, Karachi, and the kitchen table of
the elder couple’s apartment where most of the action of the play takes place.
Interestingly, Pfeiffer’s broader artistic practice engages with systems of
design that shape performance, borrowing approaches from improvisational
theater and dance, as a way of understanding social and political transformations
throughout history.
Set in an apartment building in
La Paz, Bolivia, Joskowicz’s Sympathy for the Devil almost imperceptibly
unfolds in two slow tracking frames that capture the uneasy but daily encounter
between two neighbors who live parallel lives. One is a Polish Jewish refugee
who arrived to La Paz during World War II, and the other is Klaus Barbie,
living in Bolivia under an assumed name as Klaus Altman, known in the Nazi
Party as the Butcher of Lyon. The unintentional relationship between these two
neighbors is representative of Jews and Nazis who both sought asylum in Latin
America, and were able to live in a relative lull. Coexistence can be
understood as another form of stillness, between Nazi and Jew, and the
Pakistani husband and wife.
Passivity and subjugation are
performed by Clifford Owens in his video Anthology (Maren Hassinger), 2011.
This video is part of a larger project Anthology in which Owens engaged
26 artists of color by asking each of them - Kara Walker, Terry Adkins, and
Benjamin Patterson, among others - to provide him with a performance score,
written or drawn, to be performed during his exhibition at PS1 Contemporary Art
Center in New York City. Anthology was conceived, in part, to create a
historic and personal compendium of African American performance art. Featured
in Enacting Stillness is a video of Owens following the instructions of
artist Maren Massinger’s performance score. Audience members move and position
Owens who remains in what Hassinger has called ‘a reprieve of action,’ calling
out the tensions and power relations that are negotiated between choreographer,
performer, participant, and audience. Owens’ interpretation of Hassinger’s
instructions can be read as a performative power play, or, in more racialized
terms, a comment on how race and identity politics in the United States remain
painfully and violently unresolved.
The unsettling experience of watching Owens’ performance play
out on the floor of the gallery raises questions about his intentions. Is this
artwork to be read as a passive gesture or one of critique? By now it should be
understood as critique, hailing us as viewers to take a position in relation to
these politics. Yoko Inoue’s Transmigration of the SOLD embodies similar
contradictions to do with immigrant identity in the context of an
ever-globalizing economy. Initiated on the heels of 9/11, Transmigration of
the SOLD first engaged communities in two locations: Canal Street in New
York City (where much of the video takes place), and Isla Amantani, an island
in Lake Titicaca in the Puno Region of Peru, where Inoue travelled to
commission sweaters as materials for her performances on Canal Street. Over the
course of fifteen years, Inoue has used Canal Street as a stage for this time-based
performance that interrogates the labor and economic conditions surrounding
global marketplaces where common commodities are sold, many of which are
knock-offs of some distant original. Inoue envisions a more ethical production
process – albeit outsourced – in contrast to the impoverished conditions that
produced the goods and services to be found along Canal Street. Having
commissioned Andean craftspeople to hand knit sweaters emblazoned with American
flags, she unraveled the sweaters into balls of yarn, ultimately breaking down
these hybrid souvenirs of the Americas into fodder to be returned to the
production line in rural Peru. Inoue’s interest in engaging these means of
production can be understood as a direct response to the influx of Latin American
immigrants in New York City, many of them working in unofficial economies like
those found in and around the vendors’ stalls of Canal Street and similar marketplaces
around the world. Her impassive expression as she unravels the sweaters belies
a growing concern about the status of communities both immigrant and local in
New York City and elsewhere.
Staged between 2005 and 2007, Nicolás Dumit Estévez’s For
Art’s Sake was developed and performed as a series of public interventions
- seven pilgrimages that concluded with a last supper - to highlight the
obstacles faced by contemporary artists in realizing their artwork, especially
in the process of pioneering new forms of art. Modeled after El Camino de
Compostela in Spain, Estévez embarked on these pilgrimages, from Lower
Manhattan to seven different museums on foot. Armed with the weight of donated
art publications strapped to his back, he wanted to reverse the relationship
between art and religion, positioning religion as a tool in the service of art.
Like Inoue’s reversal of the production of Andean textiles in an attempt to
destabilize economic conditions in symbolic terms, Estévez considers how his
faith in art can be attributed the same level of intensity and devotion that
moves religious interests. For Art’s Sake inscribed an awareness of the
importance of performance art in the collective conscience of New York City’s
art community at a moment when certain performance-based practices were
shifting towards socially engaged art-making. Estévez’s public engagement with
performance art ‘for art’s sake,’ forecast the formulation of social practice
as an antidote to the art market and the increased monetization of cultural
practice.
More precisely mapping out the
dynamics of performative thought and action, Emily Roysdon’s Ecstatic
Resistance (2009-2010) diagrams and analyzes the interplay between
intentionality and improvisation and the boundary between what can be spoken
and what is unspeakable in the process of staging performance with political
intent. Ecstatic Resistance expresses a determination to undo the limits
of what is possible. As Roysdon states the project “develops a
positionality of the impossible as a viable and creative subjectivity that
inverts the vernacular of power. By exposing past impossibilities, the actor of
history is thus revealed as the outcast of the contemporary. Ecstatic
Resistance works to change this by celebrating the impossible as lived
experience and the place from which our best will come.”[4]
Roysdon’s Ecstatic Resistance also proposes a mutability in the way that
identity is constructed, resisting what is, in order to find a way to speak the
unspeakable, which, in turn, extends the realm of possibility. It’s this expansion of what is possible that
can only be articulated in the context of art. Over time, this kind of
expression may or may not be absorbed into the political sphere, but is within
this space of imagination afforded by art that other possibilities can be
realized. And so, enacting resistance as a form of stillness gives way to
transformation.
Open
daily 1 – 8 pm and according to the evening program. Voluntary admission fee.
---
Contact and more information:
Jaro Varga → curator
+420 775 655 295
jaro.varga@meetfactory.cz
Šárka Maroušková → PR Manager
+420 723 706 249
sarka.marouskova@meetfactory.cz
[1] André Lepecki, "Still: on the
vibratile microscopy of dance" published in the book
Re/membering the
Body, Hortensia Völckers and Gabriele Brandstetter,
eds., (Cantz Verlag, 2000)
[2] Arlene Croce, “A Critic at Bay: Discussing the Undiscussable,” The
New Yorker, December 26, 1994, pages 54-61 [3] Anna Kisselgoff, “DANCE REVIEW;
Bill T. Jones's Lyrical Look At Survivors”, The New
York Times, December 2, 1994 [4] Emily Roysdon, Ecstatic
Resistance, 2009
MeetFactory is supported in 2016 by a grant from the City of Prague amounting to 10.000.000 CZK.
CT - Enacting Stillness.pdf