THE PROTAGONIST

These are just a couple of stills from last Thursday's O Show with special guest Mouse. The episode will be posted online next week. Today I'm busy editing down the transcribed interview for a special edition of Dance Theatre Journal edited by Owen Parry and Joao Florencio on the theme of Trashing Performance. Just to give you a sneak peak, here's is what Mouse had to say about her academic training ...

"It’s hard to imagine that after A-levels and Drama school all I really needed to do was stick a funnel in my arse and squirt water out of it. Why go to drama school really?"

Frida Kahlo, Moses (1945)

[This is the third excerpt from my review of the book Frida Kahlo Face to Face by Judy Chicago and Frances Borzello, for which I interviewed Chicago on 17 June 2011.]
 

Frida Kahlo’s focus on personal subject matter is one of the ways her work ‘prefigured [… and] ‘intersected with the fundamental conviction of the Feminist art movement – that “female thoughts, female ideas, female ways of seeing were every bit as valid as their masculine counterparts who had set the standard for so long”.’[1] In line with this conviction, authors Chicago and Borzello reappraise Kahlo’s paintings on their own terms, that is, in light of the themes inherent within them as well as (to a certain extent) in relation to the work of other female, Mexican and queer artists respectively.[2] In this way the authors help to (re)define Kahlo’s aesthetic agency as active rather than reactive or derivative. The painter’s work and the way it is written about in Frida Kahlo Face to Face bring to mind the feminist catchphrase ‘the personal is the political’ and provoke questions about how autobiographical art can become political.

            As Borzello argues, Kahlo’s popularity is due to the way in which her paintings reflect the macrocosm in the microcosm; her story is undeniably her own and yet it resonates in the minds of millions of viewers who empathise with her experiences. This is due to the visual language she employs; ‘like any great poet, [Kahlo] works from the particular to the general, finding a vocabulary of imagery and a direct style that enables the viewer to share her emotion.’[3] Pointedly, the Face to Face book itself is geared to a mainstream, non-art audience, a cynic would say for purposes of profit, but I would argue, just as importantly, for political ones. They want to get the feminist message out there! The texts are written without art jargon and Chicago’s essays in particular are decidedly anti-elitist; she explains certain art historical movements such as Modernism and Abstract Expressionism in layman’s terms. When we discussed this in the interview, she said that she and the editors belaboured the decision to keep these descriptions in the book. Beyond the considerations of this one publication, Chicago positions herself in opposition to the elitism of the art world.[4]

            During the book tour discussion between Chicago, Borzello and Colin Wiggins (curator) that took place at The National Gallery in London, Chicago shunned the label ‘political artist’ for herself, stating defiantly ‘all art is political’. To her, art that is made by so-called ‘political artists’ illustrates time-bound political ideas without skill/aesthetics and without opening a dialogue about the human condition, which she by contrast always strives to accomplish with her work. What interests me about this statement is Chicago’s emphasis on ‘the universal’ and the idea of communicating with a broad audience who may not have first-hand knowledge or experience of the personal and political circumstances that have inspired the work. As Borzello noted, this is where Kahlo has succeeded; the sheer popularity of her work makes evident that the imagery she used to tell her story is legible to and appreciated by the masses. During the interview Judy Chicago and I discussed this populist aspect of Kahlo’s work and how this connects with Chicago’s own work.[5] Funnily enough that is probably the most compelling point of comparison between the two artists, yet it is one that Chicago only realised after the book went to press.

Vaginal Davis and I sometimes seem to have parallel artistic visions...

I may not have her gift for the gab, but it's my dream to one day be as loquacious as she. We do have a couple of things in common. Firstly, we have both done our own versions of Vanessa Beecroft's work:

On the left is my piece Tableaux Vivants (2009) and on the right is Davis' VD as VB - Erdgeist, Earth Spirit #27-29 10827 (2007).

Davis has also done a chat show called Speaking From The Diaphragm at PS122 in New York, which I won't even dare compare to The O Show. Her parodies do pack a more obvious punch than mine. But maybe parody isn't quite the right word for what I do, I need to break out that dictionary...

The O Show is hosted by the professional artist and self-taught therapist Oriana Fox and features interviews with artists and performers alongside how-to advice and makeovers. Guests on the next show are provocative club performer Mouse and lovelorn video artist Kristen Lovelace. Mouse is famous for her explicit live acts in which she demonstrates the squirt-power of her muscle-lined orifices, the vagina and anus. We’re going to get deep inside Mouse and find out what makes her tick. She will also perform her latest double act for the finale of the show. Second guest, Kristen Lovelace recently broke up with her fiance - she had a plan and now she ’ s at a loose end. Oriana will get her back on her feet so she can use this experience as fodder for yet more video art. Tune into The O Show and find out what you need to know about life, love and kegel exercises.

(This episode will be filmed for later broadcasting online. It will also be transcribed and published in a forthcoming issue of Dance Theatre Journal focusing on the theme of Trashing Performance edited by Owen Parry and Joao Florencio.) 

Thursday 14 July 2011, 7.30-9pm @ Elevator Gallery

5th Floor, 9 Queen's Yard, White Post Lane, London E9 5EN

Transport: Overground: Hackney Wick Bus:26.30.276.388.488.UL1

Frida Kahlo, The Dream (1940)

[This is the second excerpt from my review of the book Frida Kahlo Face to Face by Judy Chicago and Frances Borzello, for which I interviewed Chicago on 17 June 2011.]

Frida Kahlo Face to Face is at ‘once deeply personal and brilliantly perceptive’ perhaps because the authors both embrace and question the use of personal reflection as a tool for making and evaluating art.[1] Throughout the first chapter for example, Chicago compares her life and work to that of Kahlo on quite an intimate level, citing their relationship to the men in their lives, their love of animals and use of colour to represent emotions as points of connection and departure. However, at the same time Chicago criticises previous writing on Kahlo in which ‘biographical information… become[s] a substitute for rigorous analysis’.[2] She also derides contemporary artists and culture more generally for its faddish and sensationalist reliance on the confessional ‘from the touching to the banal’.[3] I therefore find myself tempted to relay my own relationship to Kahlo (and Chicago) in this text as well as to question my impulse to do so.[4]

            When I think of Frida Kahlo, I think of my early adolescence when I was obsessed with her, much like how in my graduate school years I became fixated on Chicago. Back in those post-pubescent years, I thought art was best when it expressed raw emotion and told personal (and tragic) stories, so Kahlo’s work and biography struck a chord with me. I devoured every book I could find about her and my mother took me to a play centring on her life and work. I remember being disappointed by the play, that it didn’t shed any new light on Kahlo for me. Little did I know back then that her presence as an art historical icon was indebted to the feminist movement of the 1970s. When Chicago did her slideshow (which gave rise to the Face to Face book) virtually no one had heard of Kahlo. Given how ubiquitous her imagery is now, it’s hard for me to imagine a world where she was not widely acclaimed and those who did know of her, probably most often thought of her as merely ‘Diego Rivera’s wife who dabbled in painting’. Moreover, it was a startling realisation that yet another aspect of my love of art, that is my hormone-fuelled admiration of Frida, was also indebted to 70s feminism.[5]

            This fact is only one of the many insights into Kahlo and her legacy this new book has given me. The entire introduction by Chicago (and much of the rest of the publication) is dedicated to re-contextualising Kahlo’s oeuvre in terms of both the feminist movement that brought it to light and an alternative set of formal and theoretical considerations outside what Chicago refers to as ‘the mainstream […] male-dominated modernist art narrative’.[6] For example, I had been educated to believe Andre Breton’s claim that Kahlo was a ‘natural Surrealist’, but Chicago and Borzello have made me question this assessment. Surrealism relies on Freud’s conception of the unconscious and the artists working in this mode sought to unearth this hidden level of the psyche through free association, automatic writing and the depiction of dreams. By contrast, Kahlo claimed to be a realist.[7] No matter how dreamlike the subject matter or paradoxical the content of Kahlo’s paintings, they reflected her lucid thoughts, feelings, experience and context; as Borzello wittily points out in a commentary on the painting The Dream (1940), Frida actually did sleep with a skeleton above her bed.[8]

The Artbus: Pink Edition was intended to celebrate women in the art world and highlight the under-representation of women artists in commercial and public galleries/collections. They tried to arrange the ratio of people on the bus and the art visited on the tour to inversely mirror the percentage of women artists represented in galleries which holds at around 15% or less. Apparently, many of the male 15% were reticent to attend and the bus had only around 4 or 5 men on it, one of whom was a particularly outspoken London Gallerist.

            I was talking after the event with one of the other women on the Artbus about their tactic and we both agreed that we wouldn’t have had a problem with a women-only bus. I know from my involvement with the project that the organisers were concerned about justifying this focus. She commented that the reason in the past for women-only groups was to create an environment wherein women felt comfortable to communicate freely and be themselves. I guess because of the art world focus of the bus my mind immediately went to thinking of unequal representation in the arts rather than the ‘safe space’ approach.[1] Now that she has reminded me, I can’t help but wonder if a certain male's presence (and I might add, bolshy tone of questioning, especially during the studio visit) did deter women from speaking up. I believe it definitely changed the atmosphere of the day. It may have effected the way a certain person adamantly denied any gender-based inequality in the art world, specifically with regard to positions of power in London’s institutions. She seemed blind-sighted to the fact that her career and those of the women she mentioned were exceptional. She glossed over the disproportionate ratio of male to female artists represented by galleries instead of opening up a discussion about it. Maybe she would have been different if it was just us girls, but maybe not.

            David Salle’s exhibition was the first stop on the tour. As the routemaster wound its way around the East End and neared its final stop I felt quite certain my performance would be the most overtly feminist and confrontational work of the day. I was struck by how much the context can change the meaning of the work. The last time I performed Tableaux Vivants (for one) was for The Performance Matters researchers and respondents at Whitechapel Gallery, where Rabih Mroué questioned me because he felt the piece wasn’t political at all. To Mroué, I had emptied the politics out of the original performances I was referencing (just like critics claim Salle empties out the meaning in his post-modern nudes).[2] But in the context of the Artbus, my work was the perhaps embarrassingly feminist kind. I clearly cared about what women (not just women but feminist artists) had done before I came on the scene and even though I use humour and entertainment (which Yvonne Rainer wouldn’t approve of), it’s pretty obvious I admire the work of that generation and feel their message is still valid today.[3]

            As I performed the final dance (like Rita Hayworth and not like Yvonne Rainer), I glanced over at the male gallerist and noticed he wasn’t even watching; he couldn’t have been less interested. Despite the fact that I didn’t say ‘no’ to theatre, staring into the ether was more entertaining for him. Maybe I’m being too harsh, perhaps had I looked over at a different moment he would have had a different expression or gaze. Regardless, there were other faces in the audience, some of whom seemed to be enjoying my performance. I felt it went well, my confidence as a performer is improving, although I’m not sure this documentation captures it. There is more work to be done.

 

These were the mini-cupcakes served on the special Pink Edition Artbus this past Saturday, 2 July. The line-up for the afternoon art-tour focusing on women in the art world was as follows:

3:00 PM: Maureen Paley introduces her David Salle exhibition

3:45 PM: Chisenhale Director Polly Staple presents new work by Josephine Pryde

4:30 PM: The Approach’s Emma Robertson invites us to meet Alice Channer in her studio

5:15 PM: Wilkinson showcases Laurie Simmons’ work

5:45 PM: Oriana Fox performs for us at Bistroteque before we lift our glasses in celebration of Lauren Prakke’s birthday!

(My feminist 'newspaper' The Moon was given out in the goodie-bags!)

Video and more info to follow about the piece I performed...

I've tried in the past...for my piece Tableaux Vivants (for one)...

I'll be rehearsing the dance again all day today in order to perform for a select crowd at Bistrotheque tomorrow evening. Bistrotheue is the final stop for the first annual ArtBus, PINK edition. ArtBus is a monthly programme aboard a vintage Routemaster, bringing patrons, curators, press and collectors to non-profit spaces off London’s beaten track. They'll be giving out copies of the The Moon to every person on the bus.

Judy Chicago always produces works in series. Each topic she wants to address becomes a project and the qualities of her chosen theme are matched to the materials she uses. When she talked about this at The National Gallery a couple of weeks ago, this fact struck my boyfriend as 'very American'. Apparently to view one's output as always fitting within a wider, cohesive body of works or leading towards a larger goal reminded him of the business management strategies put in place in corporate offices. In other words, it's the kind of thing for which Gantt charts are employed. It amuses me that I found out how to make a Gantt chart, a distinctly American project management method, from a Brit. Usually a Gantt chart helps to plan a large-scale project, in my case I use Gantt charts to organise my life - apparently this is unusual, most people use a diary or just remember what they have to do. The more complex a given task (or collection of tasks) is, the more necessary a Gantt chart becomes. I guess my life is a piece of work!