Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship - autonomous ...
Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship - autonomous ...
Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship - autonomous ...
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pedagogic projects<br />
play, only note my amused frustration at its impenetrability (to me, but<br />
also to <strong>the</strong> performers I spoke to). 45 Looking at <strong>the</strong> audience, I could not<br />
underst<strong>and</strong> why such a mixed bag <strong>of</strong> people kept coming to hear <strong>the</strong>se<br />
obscure lectures <strong>and</strong> watch <strong>the</strong>se opaque – almost gruelling – performances.<br />
However, going through <strong>the</strong> whole experience again <strong>the</strong> following<br />
day, I realised that this r<strong>and</strong>om collective presence was <strong>the</strong> point. Rain was<br />
drizzling so <strong>the</strong>re was less peripheral action; listening to Steinweg <strong>and</strong><br />
watching <strong>the</strong> audience I understood <strong>the</strong> function <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lecture not to be<br />
one <strong>of</strong> information transfer, but <strong>of</strong> a shared experience in which many<br />
different sectors <strong>of</strong> society were brought toge<strong>the</strong>r. You didn’t need to<br />
follow <strong>the</strong> content, just give yourself over to a quiet meditative space (not<br />
unlike being in an open air, non- denominational church) <strong>and</strong> use this as a<br />
time for pondering whatever came to mind.<br />
During <strong>the</strong> play, <strong>the</strong> drizzle became torrential rain. For <strong>the</strong> fi rst time<br />
during The Bijlmer- Spinoza Festival, <strong>the</strong> performance had to stop <strong>and</strong> be<br />
relocated inside, in a cramped space under <strong>the</strong> plastic sheeting. The<br />
bedraggled audience surrounded <strong>the</strong> cast, while rain thrashed onto <strong>the</strong><br />
plastic ro<strong>of</strong>, occasionally leaking torrents, <strong>and</strong> rendering <strong>the</strong> performers’<br />
voices near inaudible. The fi nale <strong>of</strong> this insanely abstract<br />
quasi- Dadaist play was a sequence in which two <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> speakers alternated<br />
<strong>the</strong> lines ‘Wat functioneert, dat produceert’ (what functions,<br />
produces) for two minutes (which felt more like ten); this now became<br />
an incantation in <strong>the</strong> face <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most unsympa<strong>the</strong>tic <strong>and</strong> least functioning<br />
<strong>of</strong> environments. It was both ba<strong>the</strong>tically funny <strong>and</strong> extremely<br />
poignant. Everyone was <strong>the</strong>re for no reason o<strong>the</strong>r than <strong>the</strong> desire to see<br />
<strong>and</strong> do <strong>the</strong> same thing: to share a play initiated by an artist, whose singular<br />
energy propelled a self- selecting, entirely disparate bunch <strong>of</strong> people<br />
to show up every night <strong>and</strong> perform or watch an abstract play that<br />
nobody fully understood. The core <strong>of</strong> The Bijlmer- Spinoza Festival<br />
seemed to be this juxtaposition <strong>of</strong> social types around a series <strong>of</strong> mediating<br />
objects that were never quite what <strong>the</strong>y seemed. The philosopher’s<br />
lectures were not arguments to be understood or disputed, but were<br />
performances <strong>of</strong> philosophy; <strong>the</strong>y were <strong>the</strong> spoken equivalent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
piles <strong>of</strong> photocopied Steinweg essays that form a sculptural presence in<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r Hirschhorn installations (for example, U- Lounge, 2003). The<br />
meaning <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>atre production also lay in <strong>the</strong> fact <strong>of</strong> its dogged<br />
performance, relentlessly taking place every day, regardless <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
wea<strong>the</strong>r or number <strong>of</strong> performers who showed up. Like <strong>the</strong> lectures, it is<br />
pointless to analyse <strong>the</strong> specifi c content <strong>of</strong> this shambling spectacle;<br />
more important is to pay attention to its ongoing existence, willed into<br />
being by <strong>the</strong> artist, who managed to motivate people into performing<br />
something strange enough to continually captivate an audience. Similarly,<br />
<strong>the</strong> newspaper must be produced each day, regardless <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
availability <strong>of</strong> news, or images, or relevant stories. At no point in The<br />
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