The Ride, 2017 (detail) ; courtesy http://cigdemaydemir.com/
We are who we are – it is a pretty standard thought. However, in many ways, that notion is flawed. We are constructs of social mores, of cultural heritage, nurtured values, gender, education and place. Everything about us is politicised without even trying to draw comment intentionally.
So when a group of performance-based artists gathered to talk about how they use their bodies to inform and challenge ideas, it opened up fresh insights into the power structures of the art world and broader community – some uncomfortable and some hilarious – but all politically charged.
The Politicised Body was a discussion held at the recent Sydney Contemporary art fair, and was chaired by Jeff Khan, Artistic Director and CEO, Performance Space. Khan said: ‘One of the things I like about working with performance artists, as a curator, is that it brings an immediacy to the politics of the body.
‘And I think that goes not only for the performer, and how they choose to politicise their body to the audience, but also to the spectator and how they can become aware of politics that they might not have been aware of before,’ Khan continued.
Artist Cigdem Aydemir spoke of that intimate bodily engagement in her recent work, The Ride (2017), where she orchestrated a kind of outback stage-set that she then invited people to share a motorbike ride with.
‘This work was a riff on the whole ride with me hashtag – a mass movement of people against the threat of Muslim women being attacked on public transport. I wanted to flip that on its head: “What would it be if I was protecting you?”’
She continued: ‘I was wearing a veil and there were many industrial fans in front of me blowing my veil… it was political; it was humorous and for some people the intimacy was challenging.’
Khan commented that it was through the incredible proximity of the artist’s and audiences’ bodies that that intimacy became real and forced the participant/spectator to take a position about the politics of the situation.
Aydemir added that much of her work responds to space, ‘Because space constructs who we are, just as much as we try to insert who we are into a space,’ she said.
It was an idea that both choreographer, dancer/ artist Amrita Hepi and dancer/artist Julie- Ann Long agreed with.
Hepi, who often works with inflatables as an extension to the body, said: ‘We are talking about controlling space – how can I control a space bigger than myself? The answer for me was inflatables.’
‘You are almost vulnerable because you are bigger than your body, but almost powerful because you are bigger than your body,’ continued Hepi.
‘I am a First Nations woman from NSW and New Zealand. While these things definitely inform the way that I move – what I was taught – the work I make is using dance to explore this idea of blackness and browness, and what that means or how it is read in a different.’
Hepi relayed a recent project in America where the curator quizzed her: ‘Will there be any smoke, will you paint on? No. So what are you going to do? I am going to do a performance using an inflatable. Are their paintings on the inflatable? No.’
Her practice works against this automatic function and thinking.
In a similar way Long disrupts our perceptions through her body and movement. Her character “Val the Invisible” – a middle-aged cleaner stealthy moving through an audience or cultural spaces – goes largely unnoticed. ‘Even though Val is in a hi-viz vest, she is totally invisible,’ said Long. ‘It is really challenging to be a performer and be invisible.’
(L-R) Julie Ann Long, Amrita Hepi and Jeff Khan in The Politicised Body panel talk at Sydney Contemporary with Long’s performance work Val The Invisible, performed at Museum of Contemporary Art (2012); photo ArtsHub
‘My interest now is in the representation of the middle-aged female body in a performative context, but also in relation to the ordinariness of the everyday. Comedy in dance, and comedy and female bodies, there is a lot of tension there, and that is what I am interested in,’ she continued.
Khan points out that this fictionalising of versions of the self – both embraced by Long and Aydemir – amplifies the physical presence these artists have to make particular points – aka the body becomes highly charged through the use of props and perceived stereotypes.
A great example is a work that Aydemir performed at Cronulla beach – a space that is also highly charged for its race riots.
‘I was wearing a red burkini Baywatch-style with a float and running along Cronulla and that was a very politicised space. The float also had a sound system playing the Baywatch theme song. It made people uncomfortable; it made some people laugh; it was uncomfortable for a lot of Muslims.
‘While I got Council permission, the lifesavers come up to me and said, “When is this going to end?”… I am testing ground and sometimes that is really risky,’ said Aydemir.
She added that the veil by its very nature is politicised, but that she doesn’t use it as a devise – it is part of her identity.
As a Muslim and a queer woman, Aydemir says she doesn’t ‘necessarily always speak about those parts of my identity but I think they come out naturally…As artists we need to think about the kind of future we want and envisage that.’
She added that often her works are about making the ‘absurdity visible’ when it comes to political and cultural tensions.
‘When you wear a veil it is highly politicised to the point that anything you utter has so much weight, and then suddenly [not wearing it] to be non-political and to have this privilege, this mobility to move through spaces. It is important for people living on the margins to assert their place as well.’
Cigdem Aydemir and Julie Ann Long in The Politicised Body panel talk at Sydney Contemporary; photo ArtsHub
It is echoed in Hepi’s experience. ‘After being in Europe [recently], and having to have a lot of conversations about First Nations protocols, they were like, “I don’t know why we need to understand this?’’’
Hepi was presenting a dance course/performance where she invited people to do a collaborative piece that considered how they might make a dance about where they were in relation to place and a cultural past – spring boarding from the idea of our Welcome to Country protocol. The performances were collected and then handed back to the host place.
These three artists slide across the museum and performance space, recognising that body are deeply politicised spaces. There was an optimism, however. Hepi, in particular, felt this space had become more fluid, their politicised performance more visible. And with this conversation presented at Sydney Contemporary, one could only agree.
The Politicised Body was presented at Sydney Contemporary, 13 September 2018 at Carriageworks. It was supported by the Copyright Agency.
