The last week has been pretty busy – three shows (2D/4D, XD/3D open studios and Big Space V) plus a submission of our 500 word artist statements for this terms unit. This has meant a lot of reflection upon our own practice and the work we have produced this term which has changed significantly since last year (for the better, we believe). We have been focused upon making our work accessible for everyone, with the hope of dissolving the distance between art world and real world, a barrier that is highlighted in the film ‘Anything I Can Do Is Not Art Because I'm Not An Artist’ (2015). The vlogger’s frustration towards the arts both illustrates a common misunderstanding and highlights a barrier that exists between the true nature of art and it is representation within popular culture. The eight vloggers sampled all voice similar opinions; by editing these together in a manner in which a narrative is able to flow we highlight a collective frustration that has formed on both sides of the coin.
Attempting to create work that is non-alienating is obviously a fairly tricky task, especially while the trying to occupy the work within serious thought (which, in general, has some sort of bias). We have found that humour can be a good icebreaker, opening the viewer up to the idea that what they’re watching will at first be fun, but then eventually, be interesting. This is a step towards the inclusive attitude of the work that we are striving for. We don’t expect everyone to like the work but we are strong advocates that everyone should enjoy the process of viewing art, regardless of educational or cultural background. Recently we have really tried to make a step through the door of all-inclusivity, although we are aware that perhaps the only work that can be all-inclusive for absolutely everyone is work that relates directly to the human. One is able to place themselves within those types of spaces, removing pre-positions, comparing the <self> to the <object> with the main point of reference being the human body. Although educational, and cultural factors (along with many others) still affect ones feelings towards a piece of art there is an underlying notion that as a human you are collectively experiencing the same thing.
In a previous blog post we mentioned the 2D/4D open studios and Big Space V where we exhibited the vlogger video and the sim paintings. These were both successfully presented and it was great to see the work slide from small laptop videos and jpegs, out of the screen and onto the floor or wall; a familiar, yet satisfying experience. The XD/3D open studios however, contained something that was very unfamiliar for the both of us – we were performing a new piece: 'Remember that time?' (2015). It was a strange but rewarding experience where we were able to feel a direct feedback from the viewer – an interesting aspect of performance art that we were yet to consider before. The performance itself was formed around the concept of sharing memories; have the value of memories been diluted with the ability to share video, audio or photographic memories on forms of social media? Does the universal availability of such content render it part of the public sphere? ie. Are new memories all a shared experience?
In response to these questions we wrote a piece surrounding home movies. As the piece starts we explain that we each picked about 4 films that we will show to each other alternately. The choice of film is dependent on a vague description (essentially YouTube tags) of the previous film – little does the audience know that these films have been sourced from the internet and the narrative constructed around them is mostly improvised lies. As the performance starts we are sitting in front of a laptop (with a projection of the screen behind us) swapping false stories and memories. Over the course of roughly eight minutes the lies we are telling get more and more unbelievable, the narratives created between us, the videos and (now) the audience crumble as truth is revealed. The videos we show end up so distorted from the truth that by the end of the performance Sid is saying that he is an American schoolgirl winning a spelling bee and Jim pulls out one of Sid’s videos and claims it to be his memory.
To physicalize this digital degradation of factuality, the projection of the laptop behind us is in fact an eight-minute screen recording that we have been miming the mouse movements to. Mirroring the revealed fiction of the home movies, we purposely begin to mime the mouse gestures inaccurately; this is initially very subtle – leaning back while the mouse moves. However it becomes increasing clear that something is abnormal – we are not in total control of the laptop in front of us. At one point Jim leaves his position and fetches a drink from the other side of the room while the computer screen is still active and moving, to the audience this acts as concrete proof that the projection is pre-recorded. The reality that they believed at the beginning of the performance has been dismantled.
The last video shown is the same as the first – actual footage of Sid losing a skipping race when he is 6 – Jim digs it out of the files on the computer and claims to be the child that wins the race (without referencing that it is Sid at the back of the race, :’( crying ). It is then that we break from the conversation-based nature of the performance and speak directly to the audience in a moment of semi-formal reflection. In reference to the performance we say that it is odd that we don’t actually remember any of the moments of the videos, we only really recall the memory of watching the videos. With an endless amount of space to store this content we have opportunity to posses not only an infinite memory but also a shared memory. The performance concludes by asking various questions surrounding the topic of shared memory content within an age of social fluidity. Does the accessibility of our published memories dilute the sentimental value of them? In a post-productive period of -edit>share- how can we be sure that we’re not being lied to? (#nofilter) But most importantly, does it even matter?
Having never performed at an event like this before there were obviously going to be some things that we hadn’t considered, the main one being sound. The gallery space was fairly noisy because it was the opening night of the show, as a consequence of this we had to use a microphone, of which there was only one. Passing the baton of speech between us made the conversation aspect of the work seem fairly unnatural, so it developed – on the spot – into a casual presentation. We feel that some of the spontaneity of the exchange of videos was lost here. Regardless of these issues the performance ran smoothly and was ultimately a success. The whole process was a rewarding one that taught us some valuable lessons about performance, in particular: structure, duration and environment.
We also had a fantastic opportunity to restage ‘Opportunity Cost’ at 12ø Collective’s exhibition ‘Trading Places 1.0’. ‘Trading Places 1.0’, curated by Joshua Parker, explores possibilities of how emerging art practices could survive the continuous austerity measures present in today’s society. The exhibition aimed to act as a “projection of an impending landscape, when art follows business models, corporate strategies or corporate aesthetics to sustain and fund art practices”. ‘Opportunity Cost’ is a durational performance piece involving an investor whom (visible to the audience) sits at a desk within the space. Using 'IQ Option' the investor actively moves money around within the online stock market with the aim of making as much profit as possible within the time period; the process (research of stocks and moving the money around) can be viewed through a monitor on the desk mapping the route of investment. This piece was first shown at ‘because the internet’ (2015) and with a few tweaks we were excited to re-stage it for ‘Trading Places 1.0’ (2015). The opening night had great attendance and seemed to be enjoyed by all, especially those who ended up at the pub afterwards!
