BLIND AS WE SIT, DEVOURING OURSELVES
|
June 2010
2:03:00 Performance Art on the Frying Pan with Grace Exhibition Space Pier 66, Chelsea, New York + oranges + monofilament + soil |
I often find myself living without understanding the circumstances in which I live. How many hands, machines, how much gas, coal, oil, did it take for this simple fruit to touch my lips? I did not plant this seed and am not certain that this plant even derives from a seed.
This performance explores these concerns and is a direct response to the recent Gulf Disaster. |
POST PERFORMANCE THOUGHTS
As a venue for the performance, The Frying Pan clientele was certainly less than accustomed to performance art. This enormous outdoor bar/ restaurant offers a safe environment for the business man/woman to enjoy several drinks after work.
As I sat on the edge of the boat, threading oranges with monofilament to cast into the Hudson River, a well dressed woman fashioned in business attire asked, “What is it that you are doing?” I reply, “Well a group of performance artists are here tonight to perform for you. I will be performing here.” Almost immediately, her posture and expression changed. I quickly replied, “Don’t be scared,” and laughed. She stated, “ I am a little scared.” This was my last conversation before I began performing.
The idea behind this piece is simple. Over consumption and it’s immediate relationship to the present Gulf Disaster.
The first action of the performance required forced blindness. I applied a citrus-soil mixture over both eyes. Touch and sound became the sole navigators for each action.
The first few oranges that were devoured (and regurgitated) created quite an uproar. Many confused, idiotic and even angry cries continued for 45 minutes. “Jump!” “Don’t come near me!” “Is she drunk?” The group situated immediately in front of me were corporate lawyers. How perfect.
Throughout the piece, actions were simple:
Pull out an orange from the entangled ropes at my feet, half the orange, mix the citrus pulp with soil, apply mixture to eyes, reel in oranges from the Hudson River, devour orange, regurgitate contents into previously halved peel, place out for display.
The piece found it’s end once I could no longer physically endure the citric acid burning through my eyes and flesh.
As a venue for the performance, The Frying Pan clientele was certainly less than accustomed to performance art. This enormous outdoor bar/ restaurant offers a safe environment for the business man/woman to enjoy several drinks after work.
As I sat on the edge of the boat, threading oranges with monofilament to cast into the Hudson River, a well dressed woman fashioned in business attire asked, “What is it that you are doing?” I reply, “Well a group of performance artists are here tonight to perform for you. I will be performing here.” Almost immediately, her posture and expression changed. I quickly replied, “Don’t be scared,” and laughed. She stated, “ I am a little scared.” This was my last conversation before I began performing.
The idea behind this piece is simple. Over consumption and it’s immediate relationship to the present Gulf Disaster.
The first action of the performance required forced blindness. I applied a citrus-soil mixture over both eyes. Touch and sound became the sole navigators for each action.
The first few oranges that were devoured (and regurgitated) created quite an uproar. Many confused, idiotic and even angry cries continued for 45 minutes. “Jump!” “Don’t come near me!” “Is she drunk?” The group situated immediately in front of me were corporate lawyers. How perfect.
Throughout the piece, actions were simple:
Pull out an orange from the entangled ropes at my feet, half the orange, mix the citrus pulp with soil, apply mixture to eyes, reel in oranges from the Hudson River, devour orange, regurgitate contents into previously halved peel, place out for display.
The piece found it’s end once I could no longer physically endure the citric acid burning through my eyes and flesh.
