By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
The current "Söma Söma Söma" show at the SculptureCenter almost begs the spectator to come up with generational generalities, or to speculate on the current state of performance art.
Pope.L, who organized the show, says he wanted a "minisurvey" of what's going on in body art, since, to some extent, it's disappeared into photography and video. "People seem more interested in packaging it than in actually doing it."
Let's just say that if performance grew out of a wish to make art more present, more visceral in the '60s and '70s, that trend has decidedly reversed itself. Over the past decade, this art form definitely shifted toward entertainmentor, at least, the prosceniumand away from such anti-tainments as those described above. That makes the "Söma" show an anomaly, not to be missed. The last performances happen this Saturday, July 15. (Call 879-3500 for times.)
In 1971, Geoff Hendricks did a piece called Body/Hair at a 23rd Street gallery, shaving his
Hendricks included both these pieces because 1971 marked a turning point in his life, when he decided to acknowledge that he was gay and his 10 years of marriage came to an end. Hendricks and his wife, Bici (who had also come out), then collaborated on Fluxdivorce, publicly cutting their bed, their wedding documents, and other items in half, then staging a division-of-property event in the backyard.
"Body/Hair was like shedding a skin," he says, while Dream Event was about "the private becoming public." But did he tell himself in 1971 that he was shedding a skin? Not really, he admits. Insight into what it meant came later.
Artists in the '70s used the body as a tool for self-discovery. In his new piece at the SculptureCenter, Eating/Breathing, Hendricks works with yoga teacher Christina Read for several hours, stretching, breathing, doing headstands. They pause near the end to eat brown rice with their hands. Hendricks then paints his calves and feet blue, ties grass to his thighs, and stands on his head. Even upside down, nature is right side up.
Hendricks says he realized during the performance that "all parts of the body are thinking. It seemed suddenly like the flip side of what Yvonne Rainer was saying when she spoke of the mind as a muscle. The body is a mind."
In Eating the Wall Street Journal, William Pope.L makes theater of bingeing and purging. Dressed only in a jockstrap and some crusty-looking glasses, flour covering his body, he plays a character he describes as "part shaman, part clown." Seated on a toilet that rocks like a rocking chair, he peruses the Journal as thoughtfully as any businessman, tears off a strip or maybe a little square, looks it over, then stuffs it into his mouth. He's built a little bed under the throne, and whatever he spews back out tends to land on the pillow. By the day of his fourth performance, discarded newspaper and crud have built up under there in layers one could only call sculptural, and Pope.L has taken to descending during the piece to lie on the bed, trying to get spectators to lie down next to him. A couple of art lovers actually do.
Pope.L, who is African American, combines identity politics with abjection in uniquely discomfiting ways. The earlier work he is showing on video here is Budapest Crawl: The Black Sports Body in Europe. He's done a number of Crawl pieces over the years, and says they're about the tradition of struggle for African Americans. In Budapest, he wiggled along between a busy roadway and a river wearing some combination of soccer and basketball gear, holding a glow-in-the-dark globe. The struggle does seem rather universal.
While the Wall Street Journal piece seems to be all about debasement as well, Pope.L says, "I think of something like the black church metaphor where it is the job of the pastor to show that he is struggling, he is suffering for the congregation. That's the tradition where you need to show some kind of self-mortification and a willingness to go into this dark place, in order for people to be convinced that you have something of value."