No And
8/21/2015
DISPOSITIONS, curated by Elaine Thapp
Defibrillator Performance Art Gallery
Chicago, IL
In this performance I was thinking noise and thinking queer. I made a loud drone soundscape from a vibrator and moved around the space, dressing and undressing, pushed my face across the floor. I moved diagonally across the space, repeating a line from door to corner, door --- corner, exit to the street --- a small hole in the wall in the corner.
The noise of the vibrator isn’t really the point of the vibrator. The noise is excess but it is there. Is noise the opposite of signal, meaning, intention? Is it all the extra shit that isn’t intended? What does my body give that I don’t intend, what’s my signal, what’s my noise?
In this performance I was thinking desire. Vibrator making noise touching floor, gallery, space, not body. Desire misplaced, misdirected, displaced.
The sound of an object intended for the body, abstracted into noisy layers permeating the space, audio volume vibrating the spatial volume of the room, sound felt through skin and ears.
Amelia Jones wrote: "Queer rides that line of needing to be identified as not identifiable." I've been struggling in school because I have to present my performance work as if it is cohesive, I have to talk about it. I make performance because I don't have language for what I want to say. Noise ceases to be noise when it's recognized, legible logical understandable. There is a lot here that I'm avoiding to mention about the performance, that I don't know yet how to say.
The desire to be seen and heard in conflict with the desire to disappear.
Darkness is a sort of interference. I dress and undress, move around lights, push my face across the ground towards a light. Unintentionally, or- unconsciously but very intentionally, I pushed my body towards Adam, who I asked to take pictures with my phone like he did for me in baltimore. He said I dived at him.
I pulled a long gold string out of my mouth, tied it around my finger. I dressed and undressed, a small pile of my own black clothes I would wear through the weekend. Later, I pulled a long gold string out of that little hole in the wall, tied it to the other string. Then I turned off the noise and it was over.
-text written for Reports from Afield- DISPOSITIONS
10/6/2015 at Mobius, Inc. Cambridge, MA
8/21/2015
DISPOSITIONS, curated by Elaine Thapp
Defibrillator Performance Art Gallery
Chicago, IL
In this performance I was thinking noise and thinking queer. I made a loud drone soundscape from a vibrator and moved around the space, dressing and undressing, pushed my face across the floor. I moved diagonally across the space, repeating a line from door to corner, door --- corner, exit to the street --- a small hole in the wall in the corner.
The noise of the vibrator isn’t really the point of the vibrator. The noise is excess but it is there. Is noise the opposite of signal, meaning, intention? Is it all the extra shit that isn’t intended? What does my body give that I don’t intend, what’s my signal, what’s my noise?
In this performance I was thinking desire. Vibrator making noise touching floor, gallery, space, not body. Desire misplaced, misdirected, displaced.
The sound of an object intended for the body, abstracted into noisy layers permeating the space, audio volume vibrating the spatial volume of the room, sound felt through skin and ears.
Amelia Jones wrote: "Queer rides that line of needing to be identified as not identifiable." I've been struggling in school because I have to present my performance work as if it is cohesive, I have to talk about it. I make performance because I don't have language for what I want to say. Noise ceases to be noise when it's recognized, legible logical understandable. There is a lot here that I'm avoiding to mention about the performance, that I don't know yet how to say.
The desire to be seen and heard in conflict with the desire to disappear.
Darkness is a sort of interference. I dress and undress, move around lights, push my face across the ground towards a light. Unintentionally, or- unconsciously but very intentionally, I pushed my body towards Adam, who I asked to take pictures with my phone like he did for me in baltimore. He said I dived at him.
I pulled a long gold string out of my mouth, tied it around my finger. I dressed and undressed, a small pile of my own black clothes I would wear through the weekend. Later, I pulled a long gold string out of that little hole in the wall, tied it to the other string. Then I turned off the noise and it was over.
-text written for Reports from Afield- DISPOSITIONS
10/6/2015 at Mobius, Inc. Cambridge, MA
