Art you can’t photograph
Five hundred and twelfth hour of Marina Abramović
London
September 17th 2014
Orginalni tekst je u produžetku
This article was published in Belgrade daily Danas in two parts in Septhember 2014
"Come again in August, it will be even better then," Marina Abramović told me as I was leaving the Serpentine Gallery in London in June this year. At the end of each day, at six o'clock, the artist leaves the space where the performance takes place and greets departing visitors at the gallery door. At that point, some people take pictures of her, because they couldn't do it inside where phones and cameras were taken away from them.
That is how the artist returns to reality every day, the same reality from which thousands of visitors came by entering her space. What Marina wanted tried to achieve and whether she succeeded, is still uncertain. She herself said in a recent interview with the Guardian that it will take her a lot of time to understand what actually happened in the small gallery in Hyde Park and whether it worked. "512 hours" is a project that the artist described as the most risky and complex in her career. At first, some saw that statement as a PR stunt, but after three months, it is clear that Marina is an experienced artist and teacher, and that she is justifiably aware of the risks.
"It took me forty-five years of work to dare to try something like this," she whispered to me in a five-minute conversation, then positioned me to stand still, eyes closed, on a platform in the middle of the room.
Before Marina approached me, the compositions of motionless people staring into empty space had already thrown me into deep thoughts about art. In a world where the masterpiece Laocoon and His Sons exhibited in the Vatican, captures the attention of the average visitor for four to six seconds, as long as it takes to capture it with a smartphone, Marina's visitors stay in her space for hours. They, on the other hand, do not look at anything in particular, because the work of art has no physical properties. Contemporary approach to art has been reduced to a degradation of sorts, so Marina's "nothing" is still much more than a large part of the audience has ever seen or at least experienced. "Similar to what Tesla did, we are trying to create an energy field," she replied to my comment that she created the atmosphere of a sanctuary in the gallery.
After spending some time standing still, thinking about art and many other topics that occupied me in those late June days, I opened my eyes. I withdrew from the group of motionless people that has changed and expanded significantly since I last had my eyes open, and I returned to the same place where I had previously talked to the artist. She came up to me again and said, "You see, it works!"
"But you're not the subject here," I said, a thought I had for quite some time. "That's the thing," Marina said. "Are you going to the toilet?" I asked naively, remembering the New York performance "The Artist is Present" during which she sat motionless for hours while the visitors of the exhibition took turns in front of her. "I go to the toilet, I drink water. That's not the point. I am the catalyst here, the medium. That's a lot harder."
And why is it difficult for Marina Abramović to be a "medium"? Because in recent years, the artist has become a "media", a "celebrity" who hangs out with Lady Gaga and Jay-Z. That’s where most criticism of her art comes from, the cunning critic will attribute the three-hour queue in front of the gallery to her world fame and not to everything the artist teaches us by giving us "nothing" on a plate, that is, by giving ourselves.
It is difficult for Marina to be a "medium" because her appearance carries not only the powerful energy that you may sometimes feel from a person you see in public transport or in a bakery, but also has the energy of all the magazine covers, books, movies and plays in which she appeared. That is why this project is challenging, because in her own space, the artist becomes the biggest obstacle to herself. Until she addresses the visitor directly and directs him or her to one of the energy fields that she is trying to create, she appears as a glorious distant celebrity. When she grabs your hand or whispers a completely human question to you, the celebrity disappears, and Marina is left only with strong personal energy.
This project seems less physically challenging for the artist and it could be described as a way out of the role of a work of art, where she is to some extent the "victim" of the visitors of the exhibition. This is probably a natural progression in the career of an experienced, fulfilled and mature artist.
As I promised to her, I came again, in August. During the two hours of queuing, I could see crying, smiling, angry and indifferent people came out of the gallery. On the last day of the three-month performance, visitors were given soundproof earphones to make the silence even greater. Performance has changed over time, new “energy fields” and props like chairs. With headphones on, I realized I wasn't going to talk to Marina this time. The artist, holding hands with one visitor, walked slowly back and forth in one of the smaller rooms, quietly in their own world. This time, partly disappointed due to the lack of heavy thoughts I could share with white walls, I quickly left.
Marko Milovanović
Umetnost koja se ne fotografiše
Petsto dvanaesti sat Marine Abramović
London
17. septembra 2014
Članak za dnevni list Danas, objavljen u dva dela u Septembru 2014.
„Dođi u auvgustu ponovo, tada će biti još bolje“, rekla mi je Marina Abramović pri izlasku iz londonske Serpentajn galerije u junu ove godine. Na kraju svakog dana, umetnica u osamnaest časova napusti prostor u kojem se odvija performans i na vratima galerije pozdravlja posetioce. U toj je situacije pojedini fotografišu, jer bez zabranjenih telefona i fotoaparata to unutra nisu mogli uraditi. Tako se umetnica svaki dan vraća u stvarnost, istu onu iz koje su na hiljade posetilaca odlazili ulaskom u njen prostor. Šta je Marina uopšte želela i da li je u tome uspela, još je neizvesno. I sama sugeriše u nedavnom razgovoru za Gardijan da će joj trebati dosta vremena da shvati šta se sve dogodilo u maloj galeriji u Hajd Parku i da li je bilo uspešno.
„512 sati“, je projekat koji je umetnica opisala kao najrizičniji i najkomplikovaniji u svojoj karijeri. To su u početku neki videli kao marketinški trik, ali je nakon tri meseca jasno da je Marina iskusan umetnik i učitelj, i da je opravdano svesna rizika.
„Trebalo mi je četrdeset pet godina rada, da bih se usudila da pokušam nešto ovako“, šapnula mi je u petominutnom razgovoru, a potom me je postavila da mirno stojim, zatvorenih očiju, na platformi u sredini prostorije.
Pre nego što mi je Marina prišla, kompozicije nepomičnih ljudi koji žmure ili gledaju u prazno već su me bacili u duboka razmišljanja o umetnosti. U svetu u kojem maestralna skulptura „Laokont sa sinovima“, izložena u Vatikanu, zakuplja pažnju prosečnog posetioca četiri do šest sekundi, koliko traje fotografisanje smartfonom, Marinini posetioci u prostoru galerije ostaju satima. Oni sa druge strane ne gledaju ni u šta, jer umetničko delo nema fizička svojstva. Savremena umetnost svela se na degradaciju svega, tako da je Marinino „ništa“ ipak mnogo više nego što je veliki deo publike ikada video ili barem doživeo.
„Slično onome što je radio Tesla, pokušavamo da stvorimo energetsko polje“, odgovorila je na moj komentar da je u galeriji stvorila atmosferu svetilišta. Nakon što sam proveo izvesno vreme nepomično stojeći, razlišljajući o umetnosti i mnogim drugim temama koje su me tih junskih dana mučile, otvorio sam oči. Odstupio sam iz grupe nepomičnih ljudi koja se od mog poslednjeg viđenja prostora znatno promenila i proširila, i vratio se na isto mesto gde sam ranije razgovarao sa umetnicom.
Ponovo mi je prišla i rekla: „Vidiš, funkcioniše!“
„Ali vi niste predmet ovde“, izrekao sam misao koja me je dugo kopkala. „U tome i jeste stvar“, rekla je Marina. „Idete u toalet?“, naivno sam upitaio, setivši se njujorškog performansa „Umetnik je prisutan“ tokom kojeg je nepomično sedela satima dok su se pred njom smenjivali posetioci izložbe. „Idem u toalet, pijem vodu. Nije u tome stvar. Ja sam ovde katalizator, medijum. To je mnogo teže.“
A zašto je teško Marini Abramović da bude „medijum“? Zato, što je u proteklim godinama umetnica postala „medij“, prvoklasni „selebriti“ koja se druži sa Lejdi Gagom i Džej Ziem. Odatle i najviše prekora na račun njene umetnosti, ishitreni kritičar pripisaće tročasovno čekanje u redu ispred galerije njenoj svetskoj slavi, a zaboraviće da razmisli o svemu čemu nas umetnica uči dajući nam na tanjiru „ništa“, odnosno dajući nas same sebi.
Marini je teško da bude „medijum“ i zato što njena pojava ne nosi samo ličnu energiju koju može imati žena koju ste jutros videli u javnom prevozu ili u pekari, već energiju svih naslovnih strana, knjiga, filmova i predstava u kojima se pojavila. Zato je ovaj projekat izazovan, jer u sopstvenom prostoru umetnica sama sebi postaje najveća smetnja. Dok se direktno ne obrati posetiocu i usmeri ga na jedno od energetskih polja koja pokušava da stvori, obavijena je velom sopstvene slave. Kada vas uhvati za ruku ili vam šapne potpuno ljudsko pitanje, veo slave pada i Marini ostaje samo snažna ljudska energija. Naizgled fizički podnošljiviji, ovaj projekat Marine Abramović može se opisati kao izlazak iz uloge umetničkog dela, gde je sama donekle „žrtva“ posetilaca izložbe. Ovo je, verovatno, prirodan zaokret u karijeri iskusne, ispunjene i ostarele umetnice, kojoj se godine na licu ne vide.
Kao što sam joj obećao, došao sam ponovo, u avgustu. Tokom dva sata čekanja u redu, iz galerije su izlazili uplakani, nasmejani, ljuti i ravnodupni ljudi. Poslednjeg dana tromesečnog performansa posetiocima su date zvučno izolovane slušalice za uši, da tišina bude veća. Performans se vremenom menjao, upotreba prostorija, prisustvo stolica. Sa slušalicama na ušima shvatio sam da sa Marinom ovog puta neću pričati. Umetnica je, držeći se za ruke sa jednim posetiocem, usporeno hodala napred – nazad u jednoj od manjih prostorija, diskretno, kako sama sebi ne bi smetala. Delimično razočaran, bez teških misli koje bih ovog puta podelio sa belim zidovima, ubrzo sam otišao.
Marko Milovanović
