What if we discussed performance as the only feminist art form?
by J.J. Kegan McFadden
In the article “Against Performance Art: Carrie Lambert-Beatty on the art of MarinaAbramovic” (ARTFORUM, May 2010), the historian discusses performance assomething that “functions differentially, relationally, centrifugally.” This is in response to The Artist is Present (Museum of Modern Art, 14 March – 31 May 2010), the overwhelming career survey of one of the most famous and lauded performance artists in history; it calls into question the reality (and necessity) of the artist’s presence in this exhibit. Of course Lambert-Beatty is dancing around the reality of Abramovic as celebrity, and this over the top ode to her stature/status somehow paints her in, once again, a masculinist light.
Being a curator and artist who took the art historical route over that of the studio, I learnt early on that the history of art, like so many histories, is dominated by men. It was around the time of this knowledge imbedding itself in me that I also began to think about performance art. Having studied the work of so many male-dominated areas of art history—more specifically painting, sculpture, and drawing—I began to look for other media where strong female voices rang out: craft, textiles, video and performance. Now of course it is true there are just as many examples of strong women contributors to the various fields of painting, sculpture, and drawing as there are men, but whether they are recognized as such or not is the root of this text. Equally, there are so many male artists working in craft, textiles, video and performance who may or not be recognized, and therefore perhaps the real topic is emphasis on gender roles in the visual arts. It is with
this very reasoning that I’ve always thought of performance as a means to discuss—to pinpoint and analyse—current social concerns more effectively than two and threedimensional works of art.
Most of us paid attention to the 2007 exhibition, WACK! Art and the Feminist Revolution (organized by The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles) that was billed as “the first comprehensive, historical exhibition to examine the international foundations and legacy of feminist art”; but did you know that when it was in Vancouver in 2008 (it’s sole Canadian presentation, I might emphasize) local artist-run centre The Western Front put together its own survey of important moments in Canadian feminist art history? The F Word consisted of a concise exhibit along with a fabulous catalogue. Of the artists included in this project, an overwhelming majority create performative work whether on stage, screen, or in text.
Locally, we are lucky to have a rich and fertile history of performance cleverly documented through Live at the Centre, an exhibition and accompanying publication curated and edited by Shawna Dempsey for Winnipeg Art Gallery (2004). In her curatorial preface to the catalogue, Shawna describes performance art as something that “happens and then is gone, often disappearing without a trace.” Has the same sentiment not been uttered (and screamed) so often with reference to our feminist stories and storytellers? The protagonists whose actions challenged patriarchy in small but profound ways often remain unremembered, their identities forgotten or erased.
From that inspired collection of performance ephemera and newly commissioned work, I still remember, awkwardly, hand to hand contact by Sandee Moore. This one-to-oneperformance took place in the gallery among all the history of our place, with the artistseated on a bench, and me (or you) beside her. She took my hand (and maybe your hand too) and held it while staring ahead to a simulcast projection of the two of us, holding hands, seated, waiting. I remember it went on just long enough for me to feel uncomfortable with the amount of attention both from the artist but also from passers-by. It seems as though this intimate approach resonates with Sandee, who recently embarked on Wake Up Winnipeg, a phone performance masquerading as a wake up service, dishing
details, gossip, and noteworthy news items pertaining to our fall civic election. Each morning when she awoke, Sandee called those who signed up online and offered what at first sounded like an automated message: “Good morning Kegan, this is Sandee with your wake up call. It’s 9:13 am and I wanted to rouse you with ______.” The sentence ended with a news bite that she parleyed into chit chat about a stupid thing a candidate said, or a ridiculous stand that a candidate took. As a performance, Wake Up Winnipeg reminds me of phone trees (a grassroots information-sharing technique that long predates email), but also of the building block of feminist ideology: the personal is political. By spinning her research of yesterday’s political fodder into intimate wake up calls, Sandee personalized the information and created a brief stir in the process.
Permit me a brief exploration of other voices familiar to our region:
Shawna Dempsey and Lorri Millan’s work in performance and accompanying texts(which I take to include video) over the last twenty-five years has allowed Winnipeg the opportunity to consider feminist approaches to social critique and heteronormativity via acamp sensibility that always rings true. From their early costume-based investigations into such archetypes as “the home maker” and “the bull-dyke” to the more complicated set of personae such as “ranger”, “perfumiere”, and “super hero”, Shawna and Lorri haveplaced feminist critique back into the history from which it was initially ignored.
Jeanne Randolph is a major contributor to the understanding that to ask questions(another fundamental tenant of feminism) is not only to rock the boat, but more importantly to also lay the foundation for something better to come along. In her performance lectures, Jeanne subverts various ideas we all take for granted: the image hasa truth; the lecturer knows what she’s doing; the audience is there to learn not teach; thereis a “right” and a “wrong” way of proceeding. Now that we in Winnipeg are lucky enough to count Jeanne amongst our ranks, dare I say permanently, it is eminent that performance will continue to take many (subversive) forms, and that feminist thought will persist, and ring out, in textual performances of many kinds.
Wanda Koop’s major survey exhibition, On the Edge of Experience, curated by Mary Reid, opened at Winnipeg Art Gallery in September with her latest work, Hybrid Human, combining a live performance element by Jolene Bailie along with score by Susan Chafeand lighting design by Hugh Conacher. Whether or not the performance, which “is an investigation of artificial intelligence, robotics, and the human body’s integration and understanding of this mediated way of experiencing the world” (according to WAG’s press release), was successful is not of my interest at this point. It is more important to recognize the invitation and presence of performance (and its kin, audio and lighting) among this magnificent exhibition of painting.
More recently, Gwen Armstrong, Lindsay Ladobruk, Sarah Anne Johnson, Ming Hon, hannah_g, Freya Björg Olafson, and Leah Decter have all added to the tradition of feminist performance locally. Often stemming from either a familial connection being dealt with in situ, or the gendered and ordered body in space, the artists I’m listing have incorporated performance into interventions, installations, video, and other mediums, thereby creating a site for inquiry into how histories are disseminated and kept alive.
So how does my own incomplete and somewhat anecdotal history of performance(offered above) get back to my original question of what if we discussed performance as the only feminist art form? As Abramovic states in defining performance art, “The artistis present.” And is it also not the objective of the feminist project to be present, to be recognized as present? I think my goal with the examples I’ve included in this text is to underscore that performance has the ability, not unlike feminism, to permeate, to sweat through and to seep into other terrain—to be present above all else. What would happen if all the feminist artists worked only in performance for the next year? There would likely be a lot of bad performance art created. But so what? Experimentation is key in challenging the world, isn't it? And if feminists (and artists) aren’t interested in commenting on the world around us, then what are we interested in doing?
J.J. Kegan McFadden is the Director/Curator of PLATFORM centre for photographic +digital arts. Everything he knows, more or less, he’s learnt through performative gestures by one woman or another.