The development of ‘the exhausted body’ through research and practice
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The methods I used, in the performance of Taking Care of Business, originated from my interest in the exhausted human body and the relationship that is formed between an audience and performer, particularly one who is experiencing a level of pain or suffering. This interest has blossomed throughout my previous studies and practice, in some cases I have used my own body to experiment with such ideas. A fundamental aspect of the research leading up to the TCB project was my practice as research symposium that took place at Northern Stage Theatre; in which I used durational performance methods to induce a state of physical exhaustion. This paper looks to define the main area of research that has led me to this point; the exhausted body. By discussing the theory behind the term, referencing academics and artists who are implementing it, whilst also reflecting on how the research was integral to, and applied to my own work.
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The work of performance artist Marina Abramovic has been influential to my research and practice in terms of the staging of a ‘suffering’ human body. The human body, in its most natural state, has always been a subject in the arts, whether featuring in ancient cave paintings, sketches of the naked figure, or framed upon the wall of the most prestigious galleries, human form continues to inspire us. Performance arts have, for thousands of years, featured the distressed human body as a subject, dating as far back as ancient Greek theatre, however, various movements in history have seen a rise/fall in arts of a particular medium, the renaissance saw painting rise, in the 1970s there was a decrease in the number of artists choosing the paint brush and canvas as the material for self-expression. Instead of etching ideas into paper, a movement of artists - using the act of performance with nothing but their bodies to portray their ideas - emerged. Making the human body the art itself, despite seeming less permanent, saw artists sacrificing their own bodies to the art form and putting themselves at risk of infection, scarring, and wounding, poisoning and even death, definitely permanent, perhaps more than oil on canvas. Performance artist Marina Abramovic began her artistic career at a similar time to the birth of this form of performance art. Her work has blurred the lines between what is art and what is reality through manipulation of her own body as her platform for personal expression. Her work is focused around her own being - the personal experiment of testing her own physical and mental limitations - ultimately offering her body as a canvas for mutilation and pain. Abramovic created work that is based around the energies exchanged between performer and audiences. I find my interest in the physical strains, fatigue etc., and the more extreme bodily effects, such as harm and pain. It also leaves me with questions desiring answers: Do the audience distance themselves from art if it features shocking images, or artists experiencing physical discomfort? Alternatively: Do the audience empathize with the artists and in turn form a relationship or connection during the shared experience? Is the experience of pain felt by both artist and audience in the space?
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The article Flesh as Communication (2012) explores the idea that the sensation of pain is projected from the performer onto the audience. It discusses how the performer may be the one initially experiencing pain, (pain being either physically or mentally orientated) but an audience witnesses signs of this and in turn is affected adversely. In most cases, it is natural that humans feel sympathy for others who are experiencing pain, in some cases, if the pain is familiar to us, we can feel empathy. We become saturated with emotion by the thought of a person dealing with such sensations, usually because we can relate in some way, perhaps due to a similar experience. Paul Schilder discusses how ‘moral laws cannot be applied to human beings but through their bodies. So that moral phenomena are also tightly associated with the images of the body. To say that one never suffers alone is not a simple cliché. The laws of identification and of communication between images of the body makes one’s suffering and pain everybodys affair.’ (Schilder, 1950, p.103) I believe this applies to an audience of Abramovic as they observe the gauging of her flesh and witness her body under extreme physical and mental pressure. They are the receiver in the space, the viewer, and so have no option but to digest and process the images in front of them. They ultimately share the same experience. This demands the audience to take a more active role, and as Falk Heinrich says ‘these performances can hardly be “observed” in a distanced manner; they challenge the audience to respond physically by the arousal of some comparable pain, disgust, or embarrassment. Nevertheless, these sentiments can only be called imaginary, though they are real. It is not the spectator flesh that is being sliced, but it might feel that way.’(Heinrich, 2012) This shared experience of pain and, in some of her work, the responsibility for it, breaks down the barrier between artist and audience and there appears to be no defined roles. There is something to be said about why Marina Abramovic aims to create this equal accountability for what happens during her performance and it is that her work aims to transform and uplift all within the space. She depends on the audience in her experiment like performances to test how far her body can be pushed, but she equally wants the audience to take something from the experience. In an article in the Guardian she explains how the input and energy she receives from the audience is reciprocated back to them in a different way, and “this is why people in the audience often cry or become angry or whatever. A powerful performance will transform everyone in the room.”(Guardian, 2010)
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Marina Abramovics piece titled Lips of Thomas (1975) featured the naked artist laid on a platform in front of an audience, using a razor blade to slash the shape of a symbolic star into her stomach. After every cut of the flesh a Russian folk song would be played whilst the artist cried and blotted her open wounds with a cloth. She then progressed to lying on a cross shaped block of ice for a sustained amount of time, whilst heaters blew hot air down on her, making her wounds bleed, and then kneeled and continued to whip herself. After the acts of self-mutilation were completed, the artist sat down to consume mass amounts of honey and red wine. The separate acts of self-mutilation were repeated in different sequences, until the passive audience could observe no more, and took it upon themselves to remove the artist from the action. The aim of this performance was not only to test the physical and mental boundaries of Abramovic’s body, as she put herself under extreme levels of danger, but also questioned the division between performer and spectator. During this performance the audience was exposed to the graphic images of self bodily harm and the extreme suffering of another human being. Did the pain experienced by Abramovic have an effect on them? Peter Weibel states that ‘if an artist beats himself, this does not mean that a sadistic audience is watching a masochistic artist. The problem has to be seen on another level, one which they are both exposed to the beating.’(Weibel, 1978, p.1) This suggests that the artist undergoing the beating is not the only person who is facing the suffering as they may be the ones dealing with the physical pain. However, the acts of mutilation are exposed to an audience which in turn means that they are equally involved. Weibel goes on to say how ‘the exposed artist can be a substitute for the audience or even for the whole of mankind.’ (Weibel, 1978, p.1)
The research into the work of Marina Abramovic, along with the work of performance artist Franko B and political activist Petr Pavlensky, the durational methods of Forced Entertainment and writings by Paul Schilder led me to my own investigation into the suffering human body. For the symposium, the penultimate part of my research was conducted through the mode of a performance, titled ‘It Just Takes You to Another Place’. In which I used durational performance methods, dancing for a six hour period, as a means of inducing an altered physical state.
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The durational methods of performance used had been influenced by theatre company Forced Entertainment. The company has a fascination with durational performance, due to its energy and its inherent undertow of decay, as well its ability to present natural reactions as the performers deteriorate to an exhausted state during a live event. This is an element of durational performance that I find most interesting, in such instances, one does not simulate exhaustion, but instead, over an amount of time one actually becomes exhausted, and perhaps more present. The company has created a number of durational works from Speak Bitterness, in which the performers improvise their way through a list on confessions over a six hour period, to the twenty four hour long show of questions and answers, Quizoola. As these highly text based performances unravel before an audience, the distinction between what is art and what is life becomes less clear, or as artistic director Tim Etchells says ‘what starts as art becomes something else.’ (Etchells, 2009)
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The purpose of the practice as research was to explore how the exhaustion of the body would affect my ability to perform, whilst also aiming to discover the impact that viewing discomfort - exhaustion and pain - had on an audience. Although my practice as research was far less extreme in comparison to the work of Abramovic, levels of pain, suffering and discomfort were still achieved. The task of dancing became difficult, due to fatigue, an issue which was exacerbated by a lack of sleep during the night prior to the event, as well as my poor choice of footwear, which didn’t provide adequate support. The feelings of exhaustion, fatigue and desperation were genuine. Feelings of which were intensified even more so when located on the stage instead of in an enclosed public area; perhaps due to the presence of a critical and expecting audience. After producing and reviewing results of a relevant questionnaire, which the audience completed, it could be seen that viewers found the experiencedisturbing and uncomfortable. Select audience members felt it necessary for me to actually stop performing the dance, as they feared for my safety. As well as producing a resounding feeling of discomfort, my piece also distanced the audience somewhat, from the feedback provided, it was obvious that this came down to my use of headphones to listen to music – the audience couldn’t hear what I was dancing to, instead it was silent in the performance space, multiplying, therefore, the sound of my breathing and contact with the floor. This effect of silence was, in this case however, intentional – an artistic decision – focus was transferred from the content to the performer’s experience of exhaustion. Because, generally in performance, so much effort is applied to covering these aspects, this was perhaps unnerving for viewers. Use of microphones to multiply the volume of my breathing reinforced it with audience members, it became obvious that it was intentional for my breathing and other bodily sounds of fatigue to be heard, and in turn, empathised. Assessment feedback I received, via lecturers, suggested the piece might have included more of a ‘character’ when dancing in the corridor of the building. They thought more of a relationship could have been formed if I had taken on a persona and communicated more with people passing by, however for me, the experience was more about being myself and acting natural. But on reflection, perhaps I could have played a more heightened version of myself when communicating with them to achieve less of a distance between the two roles or used other device, possibly holding plackards or introducing an element of physical contact. I still tried to connect with them and share moments during the performance. I would exchange eye contact with them which I believed drew them into my experience and possibly made them feel culpable for my desperation. From my perspective, however, the lack of a character or relatable figure, in this sense, made it more obvious that I was trying to portray a natural state of fatigue, as opposed to a character. As well as this, I knew that the symposiums focus was solely on the research into the exhausted body, it didn’t require the addition of an Elvis Presley related story or any trace of the future Taking Care of Business show. This is why I wrote the lines of speech for the symposium to be about my experience of dancing, ‘I have eaten three Belvita breakfast bars, drank six bottles of water, and I have almost collapsed three times’, as I didn’t want to detract attention from the main focus of the research.
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The practice as research material was then reused for the extract of Taking Care of Business I created to showcase at the Leap event held at Live Theatre. Only, this time I didn’t dance for the six hour period prior to entering the stage, I simply danced continuously for my twelve minute performance slot, which still challenged me physically under the intense circumstances. Then due to the audience’s reaction and comments post show, I began to wonder if the durational element was essential to the audience experiencing discomfort and empathy. A conversation with the creative director of Arts Centre Washington, Helen Green, reiterated this. As when discussing the final production of Taking Care of Business and my plans to dance in the space six hours prior to the audience entering, she raised concerns about the logistics of programming a piece of work of such nature, in terms of access, tech support and additional costs. This conversation forced me to change the plans for Taking Care of Business and made me rethink how I could still incorporate the exhausted body, along with my knowledge and experience of the subject, without using durational methods.
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For the production of the full length show of Taking Care of business, I decided to make the final scene the ‘death’ scene, a twenty minute long piece of dance, inspired by Elvis Presley’s music from the 1950’s through to the 1970’s. Through the use of his music, recordings of interviews, biographical storytelling and movement, I attempted to dance my way through his life story. Although it was no longer a durational piece, the length of the track still allowed me time to reach a heightened, intensified physical state; one of which made it difficult for me to speak in parts. I suspect that the audience could sense how exhausted I was towards the end of the scene, which was possibly hinted at by the sweat dripping down my face and the inability to deliver my lines. Although I received comments on how strong the dancing element was and how powerful the imagery, the critical side of me still feels that I could have achieved more of an impact if perhaps I had spent a longer amount of time building up to the state of exhaustion. I feel that the death scene was the strongest part of the entire piece, so part of me wonders what the result would have been if I had continued to used durational methods of performance; possibly dancing my way through all the sections of the hour long show. I feel that I achieved my personal aim of reaching an altered physical state, but I question whether or not the audience where affected by it in the way that I had expected. I feel that maybe there wasn’t enough time for them to observe my suffering and pain and perhaps they didn’t take anything away from watching an exhausted body on stage.
For the future development of the show, I plan to incorporate durational performance technique again, possibly testing a version of the show that unfolds over an extensive amount of time. I feel that a natural physical decay was perhaps missing from my solo show and there wasn't enough time for my state or energy to unravel in front of an audience. Yet the most interesting thing is watching this happen over an uncomfortably long period of time, instead of condensed into a twenty minute movement scene.
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References:
Abramovic, M. Biesenbach, P. (2010) Marina Abramović: The Artist is Present. New York: Museum of Modern Art.
Etchells, T. (2009). Tim Etchells on performance: why a few heads are better than a one. [Online] Available from: www.theguardian.com/stage/2009/dec/21/tim-etchells-improvisation-theatre. [Accessed on: 10th march 2016].
Heinrich, F. (2012) Flesh as Communication - Body Art and Body Theory. [Online] Available from: http://www.contempaesthetics.org/newvolume/pages/article.php?articleID=633. [Accessed on: 22nd April 2016].
Schilder, P. (1950) The Image and Appearance of The Human Body. United States of America: International Universities Press, Inc.
Weibel, P. (1978) Artists Statement. Not Available.
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Bibliography:
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Brockes, E. (2014) The Guardian - Performance artist Marina Abramović: 'I was ready to die'. [Online] Available from: http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/may/12/marina-abramovic-ready-to-die-serpentine-gallery-512-hours. [Accessed on: 27th April 2016].
Etchells, T (1999). Certain Fragments. London: Routledge.
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