Pleasantly violated by performance art

U of M student artists do some weird, disgusting, wonderful things

JASMIN PICHLYK

Performance art is an art form that many people may have never experienced, since most galleries do not offer spectators the opportunity to do so. This is not to say that galleries are at fault for their lack of exhibiting performance art, but simply to state that on a whole, it is more difficult to experience than other mediums such as painting, sculpture, video or even installation. What many non-fine arts students may not realize is that within our university we have numerous talented and innovative emerging performance artists. And on occasion, there are opportunities to see these artists in action.

One such occasion was Wednesday, Nov. 22 in the Fitzgerald building, and believe me, these performances were not to be missed. I was fortunate enough to experience them myself, and they left me feeling invigorated, pensive and violated, all at once. Simply describing these pieces will not do any of them justice, but I personally feel it’s important for others to be aware of the talent exhibited here on the U of M campus.

The evening consisted of three performance artists, each with their own unique artistic vision. The first performance was a piece by Russell Vokey. His piece consisted of a simple white corner space, with sparse black diagonal lines and a cube-like protrusion placed above. Placed in three of the four corners were bowls, each containing red paint. Russell stood before the viewers with a white outfit and face-paint to match. In his hand he held a staff with a paintbrush on the end.

As tribal music filled the room, so too did his provocative dancing. Engaged in a parallel universe, Russell appeared to be entering and exiting a trance-like, hypnotic state. While he voluntarily gave will to the lucidity of his body’s movements, he would occasionally dip the brush in the paint and, seemingly unaware, apply it to the walls in time with the music and the dance. After 10 minutes the lights went out and the artist left.

Following Russell’s performance was Lyndsay Ladobruk who offered intimate insight into to how she and her mother live their lives as noticeably overweight people. The piece consisted of the mother and daughter sitting across from one another at a table, that was covered in food. No plates and no utensils were present. The food ranged from healthier items such as broccoli and pumpernickel bread, to more junk food-like items, including a variety of chips, pizza, cupcakes and chocolate.

Throughout the 20-minute vignette, they carried on a conversation that focused primarily on their struggles with gaining weight. While this discussion took place, they were both consuming the food on the table, wiping their hands on the tablecloth as though they were uncivilized. The conversation had, at times, serious undertones related to criticisms they’ve received from family members, though it was mostly a light-hearted discussion regarding their obsession with food. Ideally, this piece was meant to play out over a four-hour period of time, during which they would consume as much of the food as possible. However, due to time constraints, the audience was only subjected to a small portion of the performance.

The final performance of the evening was by artist Mykë, and was an assault on all the senses, to say the least. Divided into a handful of vignettes, Mykë’s performance appeared to be an exploration of sexuality in an uncomfortable, unnerving and even grotesque way. The piece began with his body covered in white paint, a blonde wig on his head and a fish attached above his genitals. The performance, which consisted of masturbating the dead fish, smashing it on the ground, scraping his body around the floor, seducing the audience in a provocative dance, simulating oral sex on branches and an entire host of other things, was beautiful, in a morbidly fascinating way. The penetrating smell of dead fish that filled the air was enough to induce a sense of nausea, while the visuals were both enticing and appalling in their own right. Mykë was able to fascinate the viewer with his intellectual body language, and once he left the room, the piece left the viewer momentarily traumatized.

Everyone in the room seemed to endure not one, not two, but three distinct slaps in the face that night, and I personally left in a state of elation.