artć + societate / arts + society #38, 2011 20 lei / 11 €, 14 USD - idea

Cally Spooner
Piece for a Pending Performance, video still, 2011
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language. Rather than the vehicle for the representation of action,
Tom is a character as pure speech in action. In this respect, Spooner’s
work also reflects Mallarmé’s idea that speech – the performance
of language – is both the origin and the culmination of writing. 3
If Cally Spooner’s piece at least partially functions as an alarm bell
for an overflow of communicative drive, the series Dirty Literature,
organised by Electra and staged in the Ondaatje Wing Theatre at the
National Portrait Gallery, is framed by curator Fatima Hellberg as a
response to an excess of information and a call for what Guy Debord
defined as the “insubordination of words“. 4 The focus is on the literary
quality of the writing – on the questioning of fixed parameters in
terms of “good writing“ and established narrative forms. Tim Etchells,
one of the eight artists and writers invited to be part of Dirty Literature,
has taken part to the project with three different contributions:
the reading of the existing text Now Not Moving; the transcript of
the video 100 People, 2007, for the publication accompanying the
project; and a new text-performance titled Eyes, Mud and Unclarity.
Etchells’ new piece strikes for its polymorphic nature, which seems
to borrow from literature and theatre as much as from other practices
developed within the visual arts. If Melanie Wilson’s performance
comfortably sits within the tradition of the lecture-performance
and Cally Spooner’s work negotiates the legacy of Stéphane Mallarmé’s
closet drama, Tim Etchells’ Eyes, Mud and Unclarity does a bit
of both, while at the same time being a more conventional reading;
acting as a perfect piece of research-based artistic practice; referencing
institutional criticism in the style of Andrea Fraser; and sharing
the comedic effect of a live stand-up for art connoisseurs.
As declared by the artist at the beginning of the performance, the
piece contains nearly no original words by the artist. The text is the
result of a period of research in the archives of the National Portrait
Gallery. Etchells drew from different archival sources, including
acquisition notes, texts concerning the gallery closure during the
World Wars and internal correspondence on the most disparate matters
of house keeping. These elements are also mixed with other
fragments of texts, with descriptions of works in the collection and
recommendations on the codes of conduct that guards should follow
in their interactions with the public. Many of the fragments, quoting
from notes written by wardens or stewards to their superiors, generate
a recurring rhythm by all starting with the opening “Sir“ and
ending with the most obsequious forms of closure, such as “your servant“
or “yours obediently“. Dispersing throughout the text fragments
of correspondence relating to the same episode contributes
to the creation of a rhythmic structure and the generation of repetitions,
often with comic effects. One of the most hilarious cases refers
to one of those episodes in which bureaucracy defeats pragmatism.
In two different letters to his superior, a steward reports dismissively
on a despicable occurrence: in more than one occasion, a visitor had
the audacity to complain about a mysterious blinding light coming
from the top floor, without wanting to give his name as a proof of
the trustworthiness of the allegation. Only after the second complaint
was filed, was the steward advised to send someone to inspect
the roof. A further written communication finally clarifies the episode:
the fabric covering the skylight was simply (if surprisingly) found to
be badly torn and in need of repair. Some of the letters and internal
reports help visualising the National Portrait Galleries at different
times and stages in its history. Sites within the building are identified
as serving bygone functions, such as the typist’s room, the basement
kitchens and the police’s toilet. Finally, advice on how to conduct
oneself in the galleries is also dispersed throughout the text. Guards
are exhorted not to deliver impromptu and unsolicited lectures,
while guidance is offered on how to liaise politely with individuals
who obstruct the view of an artwork to other visitors, while engaging
in the activity of drawing. This new performed piece of writing
by Tim Etchells perfectly reflects his continuous interest in the
exploration of the use of language and the construction of meaning