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cecilspeaks · 4 years

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173 - The Hundred Year Play

Quoth the raven: [bird noises] Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, some exciting news from the world of theatre! The 100 year play is about to reach its final scene. Yes, this is the play that has been running continuously since 1920. Written by a brilliant playwright Hannah Hershman, designed to take exactly 100 years to perform. And the tireless volunteer of the Night Vale Players Playhouse have been going through those scenes, one after another, for decade upon decade. There’s little time to rehearse, for each hour brings new scenes and each scene will only be performed once the play moves on, in order to keep up with the tight schedule needed to execute the entire script before a century elapses.

It is a monumental work of theatre, but like all work, it must some day cease. Today, specifically. I will be in attendance at that historic moment, when the final scene is performed and the curtain closes on the 100 year play. More soon, but first the news.

We bring you the latest on the lawsuit “The estate of Franklin Chen vs. the city of Night Vale”. As you know, this case has grown so large and complicated that I’ve not had the time to discuss it in my usual community radio broadcasts. But instead, have started a true crime podcast called “Bloody Laws, Bloody Claws: The Murder of Frank Chen”, in which I strive to get to the truth of just what happened on that fateful night when five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels met Frank Chen, and then later Frank Chen’s body was found covered in burns and claw marks. It’s a confounding mystery. The Sheriff’s Secret Police announce that it seems really complicated and they’re not even gonna try to solve that sucker. “Oh, what?” a Secret Police spokesman muttered at an earthworm he found in his garden. “You want us to fail? You wanna see us fail? That’s why you want us to investigate this case, to see us fail at it?” The family of Frank Chen say they merely want the appropriate parties, in this case the city of Night Vale, Hiram McDaniels and an omniscient conception of God, to take responsibility for their part in this tragedy. The trial is now in its 10th month, and has included spirited re-enactments of the supposed murder by helpful Players Playhouse performers in between their work on the 100 year play. 3 changes of judge and venue due to “some dragon attacks and constant interruptions from a local audio journalist, who hosts a widely respected true crime podcast”. Still, with all this, we near a verdict. Judge Chaplin has indicated she will issue her ruling soon. “Like in the next year or so?” she said. “Certainly within 5 years. Listen, I don’t owe you a verdict, just because you’re paying me to do a job, you can’t rush me to do it. The verdict will be done when. It’s. Done.” Chaplin then huffed out of the courtroom followed by journalists shouting recommendations for episodes of their podcast to listen to.

I was present, you know, on opening night of the 100 year play. Ah, how the theatre buzzed! Of course this was partly the audience, thrilled to be at the start of such an unprecedented work, but mostly – it was the insects. The Night Vale Players Playhouse had quite a pest problem at the time, and still does. It’s difficult to do pest control when there is a 100 year long play being performed on stage at every hour of every day. The curtain opened those many years ago on a simple set of a studio apartment, a kitchen, a cot, a window overlooking a brick wall. A man sits in the corner deep in thought. A doorbell rings. “Come in, it’s open,” the man says. A woman enters, flustered. She is holding a newborn. “There’s been a murder!” she says. “The victim was alone in a room, and all the doors and windows were locked. “My god!” the man says and springs up. “Who could have done this, and how?!” the woman tells him: “It turns out to be the gardener, Mr. Spreckle. He served with the victim in the war and never could forgive him for what happened there. He threw a venomous snake through an air vent.” The man sits back down, nodding. “Aah! So the mystery is solved.” As a playwright, Hannah Hershman did not believe in stringing up mysteries a second longer than was necessary. The baby in the woman’s arm stirs. “Shush, shush little one!” the woman says. The man looks out the window where he cannot see the sky. “It might look like rain,” he says. “Who knows?” Thus began a journey of 100 years.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s episode is sponsored by the Night Vale Medical Board, which would like to remind you that it is important to drink enough water throughout the day. Drink more water! Your body cannot function without water. Without water, you are just dust made animate. Water forms the squelching mud of sentience. Try to have at least ten big glasses of water. Not over the entire day, right now. See if you can get all ten of them down. Explore the capacity of your stomach. See if you can make it burst. You will either feel so much better, or an organ will explode and you will day painfully. And either one is more interesting than the mundane now. You should drink even more water than that. Wander out of your door, search the Earth for liquids. Find a lake and drain the entire thing, until the bottom feeders flop helplessly on the flatlands. Laugh slushingly as you look upon the destruction you have wrought. The power that you possess now that you are well hydrated. Move on from the lake and come to the shore of an ocean. All oceans are one ocean that we have arbitrarily categorized by language. The sea knows no separation, and neither will you when you lay belly down on the sand, put your lips against the waves and guzzle the ocean. The ocean is salty. It will not be very hydrating, so you’ll need to drink a lot of it. Keep going until the tower tops of Atlantis see sky again for the first time in centuries, until the strange glowing creatures of the deep-deep are exposed, splayed out from their bodies now that they no longer have the immense pressure of the ocean depths to keep their structure intact. And once you have drunk the oceans, turn your eyes to the stars. For there is water out there too, and you must suck dry the universe. This has been a message from the Night Vale Medical Board.

20 years passed without me thinking about the 100 year play. You know how it is. One day you’re an intern at the local radio station doing all the normal errands like getting coffee and painting pentacles upon Station Management doors as part of the ritual of the slumbering ancients. Then 20 years passes and everything is different for you. Your boss is gone and now you are a host of the community radio station, and there are so many new responsibilities and worries and lucid nightmares in which you explore a broken landscape of colossal ruins. So with all of that, I just kind of forgot the 100 year play was happening. But they were toiling away in there, doing scenes around the clock, building and tearing down sets at a frantic pace, trying to keep up with the script that relentlessly went on, page after page. And sometimes one of the people working on the play would wonder: how does this all end? But before they could flip ahead and look, there would be another scene that had to be performed and they wouldn’t have a chance. So no one knew how it ended. No one except Hannah Hershman, the mysterious author of this centennial play.

Soon after becoming radio host, during the reading of a Community Calendar, I was reminded that the play was still going on, and so decided to check in. I put on my best tux, you know it’s the one with the scales and the confetti canon. And then took myself to a night at the theatre. I can’t say what happened in the plot since that first scene, but certainly much had transpired. We were now in a space colony thousands of years from now, and the set was simple, just some sleek chairs and a black backdrop dotted with white stars of paint. A woman was giving a monologue about the distance she felt between the planet she was born on, which I believe was supposed to be Earth, and the planet she now stood on. I understood from what she was saying that the trip she had taken to this planet was one way, and that she would never return to the place she was born. “We… are… all of us… moved… by time,” she whispered in a cracked, hoarse voice. “Not… one of us dies… in the world… we were born into.” Sitting in my seat in that darkened theatre, I knew two facts with certainty. The first was that this woman had been giving a monologue for several days now. She wavered on her feet, speaking the entire four hours that I was there. And I don’t know how much longer she spoke after I left, but it could have been weeks. She was pale and her voice was barely audible, but there was something transfixing about it, and the audience sat in perfect silence, leaning forward to hear her words. The other fact I understood was that this woman was the newborn from the very first scene. Not just the same character, but the same actor. 20 years later, she was still on that stage, still portraying the life to the child we had been introduced to in the opening lines. She was an extraordinary performer, presumably, having had a literal lifetime of practice. And that was the last time I saw the play, until tonight, when I will go to watch the final scene.

But first, let’s have a look at that Community Calendar. Tonight the school board is meeting to discuss the issues of school lunches. It seems that some in power argue that it isn’t enough that for some reason we charge the kids actual money for these lunches. They argue that the students should also be required to give devotion and worship to a great glowing cloud, whose benevolent power will fill their lives with purpose. Due to new privacy rules, we cannot say which member of the school board made this suggestion. The board will be taking public comment in a small flimsy wooden booth out by the highway. Just enter the damp, dark interior and whisper your comment, and it will be heard. Perhaps not by the school board, but certainly by something.

Tuesday morning, Lee Marvin will be offering free acting classes at the rec center. The class is entitled “Acting is just lying. We’ll teach you how acting is just saying things that aren’t true, with emotions you don’t feel, so that you may fool those watching with these mistruths.” Fortunately, Marvin commented: “Most people don’t want to be told the truth and prefer the quiet comfort of a lie well told.” Classes are pay what you want, starting at 10,000 dollars.

Thursday Josh Crayton will be taking the form of a waterfall in Grove Park, so that neighborhood kids may swim in him. There is not a lot of swimming opportunities in a town as dry as Night Vale, and so this is a generous move on Josh’s part. He has promised that he has been working on the form and has added a water slide and a sunbathing deck. He asks that everyone swim safely and please not leave any trash on him.

Friday, the corn field will appear in the middle of town, right where it does each September, as the air turns cooler and the sky in the west takes on a certain shade of green. The corn field emanates a power electric and awful. Please, do not go into the corn field, as we don’t know what lives in there or what it wants. The City Council would like to remind you that the corn field is perfectly safe. It is perfect and it is safe.

Finally, Saturday never happened. Not if you know what’s good for you. Got it? This has been the Community Calendar.

Oh! Look at the time. Here I am blathering on and the play is about to end. OK, let me grab my new mini recorder that Carlos got me for my birthday. It’s only 35 pounds and the antenna is a highly reasonable 7 feet. And I’ll see you all there.

Ah. What’s the weather like for my commute?

[Shallow Eyes” by Brad Bensko. https://www.bradbenskomusic.com/]

Carlos and I are at the theatre! The audience is a buzz, with excitement yes, but also many of them are the insects that infest this theatre. The bugs became entranced by the story over the years, passing down through brief generation after brief generation, the history of all that happened before. The story of the play became something of a religion to this creepy crawly civilization. And so now the bugs are jittering on the walls, thrilled to be the generation that gets to see the end of this great tale.

The curtain rises on a scene I recognize well. It is the simple set of a studio apartment. A kitchen, a cot, a window overlooking a brick wall. A man sits in the corner deep in thought. A doorbell rings. “Come on, it’s open,” the man calls. A woman enters. She is very old, tottering unsteadily on legs that have carried for her many many years. “Please take my seat,” the man says with genuine concern. “Thank you,” she says, collapsing with relief onto the cushions and then looking out, as if for the first time, noticing the audience. I know this woman. I first saw her as a baby and later as a 20-year-old. It seems she has lived her whole life on this stage, taking part in this play. “My name,” the woman says, “is Hannah Hershman. I was born in this theatre, clutching a script in my arms that was bigger than I was. My twin, in a way. I started acting in that script of mine before I was even aware of the world. I grew up in that script, lived my entire life in the play I had written from infancy to now.” And she rises, and the man reaches out to help, but she waves him away. She speaks, her- her voice is strong, ringing out through the theatre. “The play ends with my death, because the play is my life. It is bounded by the same hours and minutes that I am.” the audience is rapt, many have tears in their eyes. Even the insects weep. “Thank you for these hundred years,” Hannah Hershman says. “This script is complete.” She walks to the window. “It might look like rain,” she says. “Who knows?” The lights dim.

Thunderous applause, cries of acclaim, and Hannah Hershman dies to the best possible sound a person can hear: concrete evidence of the good they have done in the lives of other humans.

Stay tuned next for the second ever Night Vale Players Playhouse production, now that they finally finished this one. They’re going to do “Godspell”. And from the script of a life I have not yet finished performing, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Many are called, but few are chosen. And fewer still pick up. Because most calls are spam these days.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 173 #the hundred year play

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kevinvoiceofdesertbluffs · 4 years

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173 - The Hundred Year Play

Hahaah, I’m late again! I’ve got my reasons alright...

I’ve been simply recounting a lot in the past. I would like to take a more light literary analysis view on this episode, talk about some of the concepts and writing a little more. Also, I shall touch on the non-plot segments, as they are not only quite good this time, in my opinion, but I don’t do it enough! So... let us begin.

I know people will imagine Cecil making the starting raven sounds... but I think he just found a random raven and recorded it. Which is funnier.

The Hundred Year play! What a concept. Simple to understand - a play that takes exactly one hundred years to complete. Actors rehearse, play, live and die in an endless sea of theatre. It’s an oddly romantic concept, and very fitting for Night Vale. Throughout the episode, as Cecil describes the play, you simply have to wonder what the actors are going through, what the plot is, everything like that.

We FINALLY get some news on the Franklin Chen (Chan?) case. It has been quiet for a bit. Now, this story has been dripping in small segments to us, and I wonder if they’re building up to something, or if this is purely a side story lien told through infrequent news reports. Frankly, I hope it’s the latter. I’ve been trying to do that exact thing in my own project, and I, well, I suck at it. A real struggle, that. I’ll have to give previous episodes a listen and take some notes, because NV is doing everything right here. We have a simple enough story, withheld information while also knowing enough to be satisfied and curious, and it’s going at a surprisingly alright pace. Perhaps because it does seem like a small story, always only having a couple minutes within an episode. Also, Cecil has a True Crime podcast. Very in-character.

Cecil then talks about the beginning of the play. This is what sort of made me shift my perspective for this post - I know that NV has admitted to time shenanigans for some time now, even pointing at Cecil’s longevity in a live show, but this is the first time we so directly hear his pure agelessness. Over a hundred years of life! He was there when it started! Speaking of the play itself - Cecil puts on silly voices for the dialogue, but if the lines were acted a little better, I think this would made for a rather compelling start to a play. It also made me miss the theatre immensely. Bah, damn you, pandemic. There is also the newborn - a baby born, most likely, that very day.

The sponsor! The sponsors are always very fun. They’re one of the most bizarre and fun and often unnerving part of the episode. Whether it’s a story, or a call to action, or something else, the sponsors never cease to be something totally mundane made absolutely alien. This time - hydration, except you drink all the water, possibly in the universe. Recommended by the NV Medical. The descriptions are beautifully vivid.

Next time Cecil saw the play was 20 years later. Of course the play continued. He saw a woman, monologuing, in a slow, coarse, almost pained voice. A speech lasting for hours, days, perhaps weeks after the four hours Cecil had spent there. He also mentions about how no one knows how the play ends. Before anyone could even flip to the end, there is more play to be made. What a metaphor for life - and it does not end. Also, the line “Not one of us dies in the world we were born into.” Night Vale is consistently beautiful and meaningful and the truth in that line strikes a cord. Ah, not to forget. This woman, giving the monologue - she is the child from the start. Not only the same character, but the very same performer. The baby from the start.

Community calendar! They give us so much insight into the daily life of Night Vale. Recurring citizens show up and make fuss. Strange things are always happening. The PTA is stirring things again, the Glow Cloud (ALL HAIL) specifically. Lee Marvin is giving acting lessons. Josh Crayton is shapeshifting into a pool, which people can swim in. What a nice gesture! The corn field will appear again. (Is this the invisible corn?)

Finally, we get to the end of the play - well, after the weather.

Which is a nice song! I wonder how they get the music for the show. Is it through submission, commission, coercion?

And so, the final scene of the hundred year play. To spoil the fun - there is an old woman. The woman speaks, and she explains she is Hannah Hershman (Hershmann?). The playwright of that very play. She was born with the script - literally, or has she written it all during her life? She explains how the play dies when she dies. She must die, because the play dies. The script is now complete.

It is morbid, but - there is a magic to it.

We get two more wonderful lines from Cecil. “[She] dies to the best possible sound a person can hear - concrete evidence of the good they have done in the lives of other humans.” “From the script of a life I have not yet finished performing-”

Good night, Night Vale.

#night vale #welcome to night vale #night vale presents #wtnv #kevin #ooc

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sophiaaknight-blog · 5 years

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Prose poetry is at the cutting edge of contemporary writing, freeing words from the bounds of traditional poetic grammar and bringing the magic of verse to flash fiction. In this ambitious, ground-breaking anthology, Valley Press showcases new work from a diverse range of UK writers, carefully curated by editors Anne Caldwell and Oz Hardwick. Featuring bite-sized morsels of original writing from newly-crowned laureate Simon Armitage, Jen Hadfield, Luke Kennard, Helen Mort, George Szirtes, Kim Moore, Inua Ellams, Carrie Etter and a host of other new and established talent, this is the ideal travelling companion for readers searching for a mind-expanding literary adventure. Full list of contributors: Astrid Alben, Nick Allen, Roselle Angwin, Simon Armitage, Liz Bahs, Becky Balfourth, Linda Black, K. Blair, Owen Bullock, Sue Burge, Jane Burn, Maggie Butt, Susie Campbell, Mary Jean Chan, Debjani Chatterjee, Becky Cherriman, Jenna Clake, Geraldine Clarkson, Claire Collison, Patricia Debney, Kym Deyn, Sarah Dobbs, Kristian Doyle, Charlotte Eichler, Inua Ellams, Carrie Etter, Ailish Fowler, John Freeman, James Goodman, Mark Granier, Jen Hadfield, Robert Harper, Ceinwen E. Cariad Haydon, Tania Hershman, Gaia Holmes, Helen Ivory, Haley Jenkins, Luke Kennard, Therese Kieran, Sophia Knight, Janet Lees, Ágnes Lehóczky, Michael Loveday, Lisa Matthews, Jane Monson, Helen Moore, Kim Moore, Helen Mort, Paul Munden, Winston Plowes, Katrina Porteous, Robert Powell, Angela Readman, Anna Reckin, Anna Robinson, Mark Russell, Anne Ryland, Miles Salter, Maggie Sawkins, Ian Seed, Mark Ryan Smith, Paul Stephenson, Hannah Stone, Nic Stringer, George Szirtes, Samuel Tongue, Helen Tookey, Julia Webb, Natalie Whittaker, Heidi Williamson, Cliff Yates, Tamar Yoseloff

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fifidunks · 6 years

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INSIDE THE COVER Amalia Ulman. Her Body, Her Self by Travis Diehl

INSIDE THE COVER Hannah Levy. Design Within Reach by Kat Herriman

ICONS Lynn Hershman Leeson in conversation with Vincent Honoré

SPECIAL COMMISSION by Prem Sahib words by Huw Lemmey

ESSAY A Political Economy of Bodies That Vogue by Manuel Segade

ESSAY Pillow Talk by Fiona Alison Duncan

SPOTLIGHT Sidsel Meineche Hansen in conversation with Anna Gritz

SPECIAL COMMISSION by Celia Hempton words by Kathy Noble

ESSAY Collective Body by Penny Rafferty

Q&A 25 Questions with Madeline Hollander by Piper Marshall

SPOTLIGHT Anna K.E. in conversation with Margot Norton

HOT! Aria Dean by Attilia Fattori Franchini

Louis Fratino by Alex Bennett

Young Joon Kwak Mutant Dreaming by Ceci Moss

Julien Ceccaldi by Whitney Mallett

Stine Deja. Body Talk by Alice Bucknell

Paul Mpagi Sepuya by Nikki Darling

Bwo: The Art of 吉于 (Yu Ji) by Todd Von Ammon

D S Chapman by Micol Hebron

Inhabiting Space with Nabuqi by Loïc Le Gall

https://curamagazine.com/cura-28/

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capjuby · 7 years

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By Karen ChernickDec 20, 2017 1:21 pm

As a new wave of the feminist movement began to crest in the 1960s and ’70s, women artists turned to the then-uncharted field of performance. “One of the things about performance and the area that I went into was that it wasn’t male-dominated,” artist Joan Jonas explained in 2014. “It wasn’t like painting and sculpture.” Adopting a new medium meant greater freedom to experiment, without fear of comparison to the generations of male artists that preceded them.

Performance art can be difficult to define, but it’s easy to point to two big-name women working within the medium: Marina Abramović and Yoko Ono. There were, however, a number of other female artists from the same generation who played instrumental roles in shaping the medium. In its early years, for instance, performance became a central part of California Institute of the Arts’s Feminist Art Program, co-founded by Judy Chicagoand Miriam Schapiro in 1971—one of the first feminist art programs in the United States—particularly in its Womanhouse performance and installation space that opened to the public as an experiential artwork the following year.

Public performances were also a way to advocate for the role of women, with artists often embracing a revolutionary style reminiscent of the anti-war protests of the 1960s. And an early adoption of performance made several women artists—such as Martha Rosler and Hannah Wilke—leaders in the similarly novel field of video art, as they experimented with tape recording their works.

Ana Mendieta

At the tender age of 12, Mendieta fled the political turmoil of her native Havana for an orphanage in Dubuque, Iowa, together with her sister and thousands of other unaccompanied Cuban children. Unsurprisingly, her works deal largely with displacement, questioning her national and gender identities. Mendieta’s own body—the constant that anchored her throughout the fluctuations of place, language, and ideology that she experienced as a youth—became her instrument for performance pieces that have been linked to Conceptual Art, Feminist Art, and Land Art.

One of her best-known works, the “Silueta Series” (1973–77), saw Mendieta imprint her body into natural Mexican and Iowan landscapes and fill in the residual outlines with organic materials such as flowers, branches, or moss. “It is a way of reclaiming my roots and becoming one with nature,” Mendieta once said. Today, her artistic legacy is entangled with the story of her untimely death at age 36. In 1985, Mendieta fell out of the 34th-floor window of the apartment she shared with her husband, minimalist sculptor Carl Andre. Andre was charged with her murder but ultimately acquitted.

Adrian Piper

Active during the American Civil Rights movement, Piper’s works explore racial and cultural bias. In one series of public performances—which she advertised in advance in New York’s Village Voice—the artist took to the streets dressed as a mustachioed African-American man with a large Afro and engaging in stereotypical masculine behavior. Titled The Mythic Being(1973–75), the work was documented in video and photographs, with prints later sketched upon with oil crayon. The accompanying newspaper ads, which featured text from her own adolescent journal entries, are a testament to Piper’s wider aim: to interact with audience in ways that are both personal and framed within a larger political context. In addition to her performance pieces, Piper is a self-described “first-generation Conceptual artist and analytic philosopher” and was a professor of philosophy at several American universities, though she has been based in Berlin since 2005.

Tania Bruguera

As a Cuban artist working between Havana and the United States, Bruguera has centered her practice on issues of political power and representation. Early works focused on her own body, paying tribute to fellow Cuban artist Mendieta, but she has since shifted to incorporating audience interaction. Bruguera is perhaps best known for Tatlin’s Whisper #6 (Havana version)(2009), performed at the Havana Biennial. The work encompassed a stage on which audience members were granted the opportunity to speak freely for one minute before being escorted offstage by actors in military uniforms. “I think there’s something interesting about Cuban art and perhaps the art in other socialist countries,” Bruguera said in a 2017 interview. “In these settings, art replaces spaces of freedom that cannot be found anywhere else.” Bruguera’s attempts to reenact this performance in Havana led to multiple arrests in 2014 and 2015.

VALIE EXPORT

Austrian artist VALIE EXPORT changed her given name—Waltraud Hollinger, née Lehner—in 1967 in order to renounce the patriarchal identity attached to her by her father and her former husband. From that moment onward, she became a brand (akin to the popular cigarettes that allegedly inspired her new last name) identifiable with feminist art.

Her early performance pieces were provocative, involving direct interaction with an audience. In TAP and TOUCH Cinema (1968–71), a piece performed in 10 different European cities, EXPORT attached a model of a curtained movie theater to her naked torso and stood on the street. Passersby were encouraged to reach through the curtains and touch her breasts—thus coming in contact with a real woman rather than the idealized femininity usually found on the silver screen. In another cinema-based performance, Action Pants: Genital Panic (1969), EXPORT walked through an experimental film theater wearing crotchless pants, putting the seated audience at eye-level with her exposed vagina.

Joan Jonas

Although trained as a sculptor, Jonas is known for her experimental works that combine video, performance, installation, sculpture, drawing, and the internet to produce an idiosyncratic visual language. She explores the experience of spectatorship, often confusing the viewer’s perceptions of real versus imagined images. In Organic Honey’s Visual Telepathy (1972), her earliest performance using video, Jonas appeared as her alter ego, Organic Honey, wearing a cheap plastic mask, sequined jacket, and pink feathered headdress. A television monitor projected conventional multicultural images of women—a Bengali goddess, a Japanese woman—while Organic Honey interacted with the video camera taping the performace.

María Evelia Marmolejo

Joining a roster of politically active Latin American artists experimenting with performance art in the 1980s, Marmolejo’s works dealt largely with environmental issues, the role of women, and the concurrent political oppression in her native Colombia. Anónimo 3 (1982), for instance, was conceived as an atonement ritual in which she apologized to the Earth for years of pollution. The 15-minute performance in Valle del Cauca, Colombia, consisted of her covering her face with gauze and her body with surgical tape, then performing a vaginal wash over a toilet bowl in the center of a circular patch of earth. The fluids that fell to the ground were intended to re-fertilize the area. Marmolejo was most active in the ’80s, but recently performed another environmentally centered work in Milan, Extractivismo(2015), as part of a retrospective.

Martha Wilson

“As women, we find ourselves performing all the time to meet society and the culture’s expectations about what we’re supposed to do, how we’re supposed to look, what we’re supposed to think,” Wilson explained in a 2015 interview. Her work dissects these issues of gender identity and beauty ideals: In video and photographic performance pieces, the chameleonic Wilson transforms herself into a drag queen, traditional housewife, lesbian, and a series of American first ladies. Her most recent installation in that series, Martha meets Michelle halfway (2014), features Wilson impersonating Michelle Obama.

Wilson has been active in New York’s avant-garde art scene since the 1970s and was a founding member of DISBAND, a conceptual punk band of women artists that has included Barbara Kruger and Ilona Granet, among others. She also founded and continues to direct Franklin Furnace, a Brooklyn-based nonprofit organization that preserves and advocates for avant-garde art.

Carmen Beuchat

Carmen Beuchat, Two Not One, 1975. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Trained in her native Chile as a ballet dancer, Beuchat moved to New York City in the 1960s and began fusing dance with photography, video, poetry, and performance art to create a body of transdisciplinary work. As an active member of the downtown performance art scene, she collaborated with artists including Trisha Brown and Juan Downey and often performed at 112 Greene Street, an experimental venue in the city’s SoHo neighborhood cofounded by Gordon Matta-Clark. As an original participant in Brown’s piece Walking on the Wall (1971), performed at the Whitney Museum, Beuchat and six other performers supported by ropes strode horizontally across a gallery wall in a gravity-defying act.

The Chilean artist also cofounded an experimental dance group called the Natural History of the American Dancer in 1971, which was at the forefront of improvisational dance. Beuchat’s performances usually incorporate mobile structures, creating a connection between these visual elements and the choreography of the performers.

Lynn Hershman Leeson

For years, the films and artwork of Hershman Leeson (and at least four of her alter egos) were relegated to boxes and closets in her San Francisco home, largely ignored by the art world. That is, until 2014, when the still-active artist was feted with a long-overdue retrospective at German museum ZKM and a subsequent 2016 monograph (both titled “Civic Radar”). Active since the 1960s, Hershman Leeson was an early adopter of new media and has long explored our relationship with technology. In one multi-year performance, The Roberta Breitmore Series (1974–78), the artist performed as an alter ego who lived at the Dante Hotel and was voyeuristically documented in photographs by a paparazzi-for-hire. Twenty years later, Roberta Breitmore became an internet-based project, CybeRoberta (1996)—a robotic version of her earlier self with webcams for eyes.

#art history #carolee schneemann #joan jonas #lynn hershman leeson #martha wilson

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astoldbyacertifiedunicorn · 7 years

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I Will Love You Better

YAY A NEW MC I SHOULD NOT BE STARTING. This one will end in 3 chapters so don't worry! It's an Everwood x Greys Anatomy crossover AU thing. I love Sarah Drew's character Hannah in this show, and her relationship with Chris Pratt's character, Bright. This is an insanely well written show! WATCH IT!

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Shonda

P.S: this is definitely a japril fic, Bright is not going to be romantic interest I promise!

the title of each chapter is a favourite episode from season 4 of ever wood :)

Chapter 1: Getting to know you

"April, you're mad at me."

Jackson finally spoke up, tired of the silent treatment his wife had been subjecting him to since they'd left Boston. She hadn't said a word to him throughout their almost 2 hour flight from Boston to Ohio and was continuing her lack of communication during their car ride.

"How'd you tell?"

She finally says, breaking the silence and although her voice is dripping sarcasm, he's at least a little happy she's finally speaking to him.

"April, come on, babe. This is ridiculous." He says, taking a sneak at her face to see her rolling her eyes and opting to go back to being non responsive on him.

He sighed, focusing his attention back on the road. He wasn't sure why they had even begun to fight but he knew exactly when it happened. Marrying an Avery, especially under the circumstances they got married, meant going to Boston so that his grandfather can meet April, not because he wanted to meet and make nice with his grandson's new wife or anything but because a new addition to the family, meant contracts and negotiations and Avery foundation, legacy and wealth discussions. None of which he wanted to subject April to. He had delayed this meeting as much as he could, keeping the need to go to Boston from April, until she had suggested that she wanted to go to Boston, meet Harper and even if unwillingly on his part, involve him in Jackson's life. So he had come clean and told her that a trip to Boston included a lot more than Harper refusing to acknowledge her position in the family. It meant she'd be introduced to the Avery life, their way of living and the foundation, all he knew was overwhelming for April. And she'd gone with it, head held high and he'd had to sit next to her for 5 days and witness her being battered and underestimated and made to feel small constantly by Harper, the foundation and the expectations that were now on her.

He pulled up in front of the hospital, parking the car in an empty place nearest to the entrance. He turned off the engine, and took off his seatbelt, and turned around to face his wife who was making no subtle move of trying to get out of the car as quickly as possible. He sighed, leaning across her and closing the car door on her side, she had begun to open. He locked the door, and cut her off before she could protest.

"Look, you're mad at me, I get it. I know some of that is my fault." He said, while she scoffed at his statement. He ignored her and went on, "But, we're here to operate on a patient. This surgery is getting published, it's going to be recorded. We're going to do a lot of good for a lot of people."

"You mean the Harper Avery Foundation and its shareholders?" She didn't do much to hide the sarcasm.

"I mean the patients who are going through this same problem with no solution." He was surprised that she was reacting to this so strongly.

"Jackson, if your grandfather and the foundation really cared about the patients who are going through this, they wouldn't have redirected budgetary allowances from donations to free healthcare clinics so that this surgery could be publicized. This whole surgery will help a lot of people, no doubt about that, but you can achieve that without having to spend millions of dollars doing that." She was furrowing her eyebrows and her face was slowly rising in colour, the way it always did when she was furious about something.

"Well, that's the way we do things, babe. I don't like taking money out of free clinics either, but with the Foundation, everything is … bigger, bolder. If the surgery doesn't get a theatrical release, then it won't get published at all." He threw in a joke, hoping to get a laugh out of her, but all he received was a death glare.

"You see nothing wrong with that?" She asks, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Of course I do. But I want this surgery to save more lives, and this is the only way it's going to happen." Jackson replied, "April, you don't understand, it's-"

"Oh trust me, I know," She laughed humourlessly, "There are a lot of Avery things I don't understand. Like, how my husband never told me that our children will come home from boarding school every holiday to be whisked to Boston to sit in at board meetings for a foundation that controls over 450 million dollars where they'll be forced to leave any all personal beliefs that they will be raised not to have at the door."

She was practically yelling at this point. He wasn't sure what to do. For one thing, she had sat in at her first board meeting and hated it. He knew it had nothing to do with the fact that she was bored or lost or anything of that nature. Quite the contrary, actually. April surprised everyone, including him, with how prepared she was for the meeting. She was one of the smartest people he knew, so she'd read up on everything they had discussed that day and contributed significantly to the discussion. She had been attentive, intelligent and efficient. Unlike, the rest of the people in the room, Jackson loved hearing his wife talk and had actually paid attention. He wasn't used to doing that considering how in all meetings before this one, he had spent them, for the most part, discreetly checking football scores, on his phone. But the moment, she'd walked out she'd been distant and angry, and he'd known something about that meeting had irked her. Well, he knew what it was now.

"April, come on, don't make it sound like we had years to talk about these stuff." It was his turn to be frustrated now. It had only been 3 months since they'd gotten married after a 13 hour engagement and a month or so of doing whatever the hell they had been doing back then. It's not like they had the privilege to have the conversations that normal couples have before they decide to tie the knot.

"Three months, is a really long time Jackson. It's 12 weeks … almost 100 days where you decided not to tell me these things." She yelled, taking a little time to do the math in her head.

"I thought it was too soon, babe. I didn't want to overwhelm you" He had just wanted to extend their happy little marriage bubble for as long as possible. Apparently, all it took was one visit to Boston for it to pop.

"Great decisions, Jackson, because the better idea is to throw me into the deep end all of a sudden without any prior warning whatsoever," She rolled her eyes, "And don't call me babe."

Whenever she refused to allow him pet names, he knew for a fact he was in trouble. This had been a thing even when they were friends. He'd call her "Apple" or "Apes" lovingly when they had merely been friends, but was forced into April whenever they'd gotten into a fight.

"Well, you know now. I just don't get what the big deal is, April. The money, the foundation, the conditions about our children, we'll talk about that and we'll work through that. We don't have to fight. You're overreacting." Her narrowed eyes and pursed lips stopped him from continuing further. Out of the frying pan into the fire, he thought.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it resolving not to.

"We have a patient to treat. I'm not wasting time with you arguing about something you clearly don't understand." She shrugged her shoulders, unlocking the door and getting out of the car. He could've sworn he'd heard her mutter, 'and a million dollars to flush down the toilet' under her breath.

He realized there really was no point hashing this out with her, at this very moment, nor was it likely she was going to stop being mad at him anytime soon. This was yet again another situation of them not seeing things the same way.

He walked behind her, matching her strides, and found himself inside the Ohio Harper Avery Hospital. He walked to the nurse's desk in the lobby and informed the nurse on duty that they were here for a case from Seattle and was supposed to meet a Dr. Hershman. While she was calling for Dr. Hershman, Jackson looked at his wife, who was enthusiastically looking around the hospital.

"Have you been here before ?" He asked, tentatively, not really sure if she would answer him.

She looked up at him, and he could tell she was debating whether or not to let him in on this one, and finally spoke up, "I have, actually. One time. We usually go to our town's private practice. We knew the doctor's there. But once, my, um… well, friend, got really drunk and fell through the window of a pub. I came here to see him."

"Who the hell gets that drunk ?" He asks, a little surprised at the crowd she seemed to have hung out with in her teenage years.

"Well… it was his birthday." She shrugged.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't sound like he was the brightest tool in the shed." Jackson remarked, and was a little surprised to find his so far extremely grumpy wife giggle at his not so funny comment. However, before he could ask her what was so funny, he was interrupted by someone calling his name.

"Dr. Avery! What an absolute pleasure to meet you." A middle aged man, with a heavy set demur and round face, walked towards them, hands outstretched. "We are so honoured that you could come to assist in this surgery."

Jackson returned the handshake, although he slightly grimaced at the man's over enthusiasm. He had had plenty of years of Avery experience to recognise ass kissing.

"Happy to be here, Dr. Hershman."

"Oh and this must be your wife, ?" He smiled, and he could sense April's need to correct him. She usually would, but for some reason she was holding back today. He wasn't about to let this man make April feel as though the only title she would be recognised by within the medical community now that she was married to him, was ' '. His wife was first and foremost, an incredible trauma surgeon. She had been long before she'd married him and will be long after.

"Dr. Kepner, actually. She is . She is the leading trauma surgeon in this case. In this hospital, and even outside of it, when she is being a surgeon, she is . Anywhere else, she's April Kepner. Only when she wants to, I and a select number of people has chosen, gets to call her . I hope there won't be anymore misunderstandings, Dr. Hershman?" He said this with just the right amount of politeness and authority, that for a while Dr. Hershman stood in front of him a little speechless.

"Uh- yes, of course. I aplogise, Dr. Kepner. I- I should've… read the file we were sent, and not assume" He smiled at April, genuinely apologetic.

"It's alright, Dr. Hershman." She smiled back, and Jackson subtly rolled his eyes at how forgiving his wife was to anyone but him.

"Anyway, um, the patient's want to thank you for making the trip to Ohio. The doctor who took on their case is here today so you can meet him too. I think he was able to send you all the files, beforehand?" Dr. Hershman asked,

"Yes, he was. He sent me an email copy of everything. The cholesteatoma patient, who's ear was stopped working."

"Well, that's why we have you … two." He added, as an afterthought and Jackson was pleased to see April look at him and roll her eyes in 's direction. It was nice to know there was one person she disliked more than him right now.

"Well, I'll show you to your office. You can change into your scrubs, there's a mini fridge in there, please help yourself to anything and if you're feeling peckish there is a great chilli dog in the cafeteria. Call me when you're done." He waved them off, and walked out the door.

"The only chilli dogs you should ever have in Ohio are from the state fair. Everywhere else, it's extremely questionable. Trust me." She pointed out to him, plopping her carry on down on the couch.

"Good to know." He chuckles, opening the mini fridge. He spots a blackcurrant juice and takes out a can coke, handing the former to April, and popping open the soda for himself.

She took it from him, before giving him a disapproving look for the soda.

"What? I need the caffeine." He remarked, taking a long gulp, taunting her.

"You know what else give you caffeine, but is way healthier than chemical filled, sugary drinks?" She asks, reaching into her bag. She tosses him an apple, and he manages to catch it, rolling his eyes.

"Not the same." He says, placing it on the table, and continuing to sip from his drink.

She throws him a withering look and starts to undress. He finds her choice of underwear very endearing, considering how she's chosen to pair her pink polka dotted, yellow bra with a blue and white stripped panty. He would, of course, buy her sexy lingerie, except for the fact that this mismatched rainbow of colours is so … April and as a result, much more of a turn on.

She slips her scrub top over her head, as he throws his empty soda can into the trash, and walks up to her. He slips his arms around her waist and teases the skin at the edge of her underwear, while bringing his mouth to a spot below her right ear.

He grunts, as he feels a sharp pain on his left rib and feels April step away from him, looking at him in disapproval.

"Did you just elbow me?" He asks, incredulously, rubbing the spot her elbow had made contact with his body.

"Yes I did. What gave you the idea that I was okay with what you're doing ? I'm still mad at you remember." She remarked, pulling her pants on and tying the knot.

"We were just joking around right now. Did you really have to elbow me ?" He can feel the area only slightly stinging, but he knew most of it was dramatics.

"Oh stop being such a baby, I barely touched you. We were joking, because I don't want us to fight while we're on this case. Also, because of what you said to Dr. Hershman." She smiles at the end, very softly so as to not let him know how much she appreciates it.

"Okay, She-Hulk, it wasn't a soft graze. So let me get this straight," He says, as slips his own scrubs on, "You're mad at me but you're not mad at me ?"

"I am mad at you, but I'm choosing not to be actively mad at your during the case. I am still so … so angry at what happened in Boston and I am still really pissed off with you for keeping pretty much everything about you that I, as your wife, should have known about. But this patient deserves two doctors who are in a good head space. Now, call Dr. Harsherman." She ended her rant, handing him the phone.

He took the phone from her, deciding that this wasn't the time to argue with her. Also, they were having this argument since they left Boston. He would wait it out, let her calm down and then bring it up. It needed resolving, but now isn't the time.

showed up a couple of minutes later, and led them to the patients room, rambling on about the weather, and the foundation, annoying small talk Jackson never liked to participate in, but his wife was kind enough to entertain.

"Oh and I want you to first meet the family's physician. He's the one who recognized the symptoms early on. He'll be able to help you better with the case." Dr. Hershman explained, pointing them to a room, inside which Jackson could see a male patient lying on the bed, and another male occupant inside the room, standing next to the bed.

" , , I would like you to meet the physician who initially treated Scott Hunter-"

"Dr. Abbot!" April screamed from beside him, possibly momentarily forgetting where they were.

"You two know each other ?" asked, sporting the same confusion that was on Jackson's face, glancing between the two.

"April! My god, it's you. They told me I was meeting a doctor from Seattle, but honestly, I never in a million years thought it would be you." Dr. Harold Abott, stepped forward, holding April in an embrace she lovingly returned.

"I can't believe I didn't see your name on the files, . I was just so preoccupied with the patient. Anyway, it's so nice to see you. I haven't seen you since …" April let the sentence drift off, shifting her gaze to her feet.

Jackson, still confused as ever, saw a small grin spread across 's face.

"Well, young man, it's nice to officially meet you. I couldn't quite catch you on April's… wedding day, considering you were quite preoccupied with a certain declaration, which my wife thought was insanely romantic, by the way." Dr. Abbot holds his arm out, which Jackson shakes although he is slightly more than a little shocked by what he had just heard. Shocked, and embarrassed. 's one and only impression of him was as the man who stole April from the aisle during her wedding to another man. He was also a little surprised how he'd never seen the man before, but figured, was right. He had been slightly preoccupied that day.

"It's nice to meet you too. Just… if you don't mind me asking, how do you two know each other?" He inquired, looking to his wife, whose cheeks began to flush with colour.

"Well, I was … I was best friend's with 's daughter, Amy. Remember, I told you about how she was kind of my only friend during high school." She asked him, and Jackson nodded recollecting the memory. He'd been grateful to Amy.

She saw steal a glance at April, his eyebrows raised, and saw a subtle shake of head on his wife's part. Harold smiled, and broke the somewhat awkward tension that had set.

"Well, I think that's enough chitter chatter for now. We should go and check on the patient. You will be quite surprised to see that I'm not the only one you'll recognize from back in the day." Harold commented, mischievously smirking.

"Kyle!" April commented, hand over her mouth, "I can't believe … Kyle !"

"April! Wait, you're one of the doctors ?" The male companion asked, an equally surprised look across his boyishly charming features, "Well, I just feel a whole lot better."

"Kyle used to get lessons from my friend Ephram… um, Amy's husband," April clarified, explaining to Jackson, "He is, well, a musical prodigy. Do you still keep in touch with Ephram?"

"I do, actually. We both play for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and I help him lecture at Juilliard sometimes." Kyle commented, a proud grin across his face.

"Wow, Kyle! That is… wow. I'm so proud of both you." Jackson smiled at how wonderfully sincere his wife was. She was genuinely happy for people's successes in life. He nodded in agreement at Kyle's and this Ephram guy's work, but shot April a smile. She was too cute for words sometimes.

"Well, I wouldn't be too impressed with him just yet. I mean, I'm pretty sure he played my ear off… literally." The patient, Scott, bigger than Kyle, with sandy blonde hair and a wounded artist vibe, spoke up. The whole room erupted into laughter, considering how even in this predicament, it was nice to see Scott take it lightly.

"Well, Scott, we promise not to talk your other ear off," Dr. Abott teased, which made Scott grin in return, "Here are the two surgeons on your case. This is the wonderful and . They are both very very good at what they do so you can trust your ear will be back where it belongs in no time."

"I really appreciate the two of you coming down here." Kyle commented, running a hand across Scott's shoulders, "I just want to be informed if this less invasive process is really all its being hyped up to be."

Jackson smiled back, and explained the whole procedure as simple as he could, in the soothing tone he used with all of his patients who are particularly nervous about their procedures. He felt for Kyle a lot more personally, apart from the fact that his wife knew him, he knew that it must be scary to have your spouse go into a surgery. Him and April both answered all questions and doubts Kyle and Scott had about the surgery and spent a bit more time catching up on the two before deciding to leave them for the day. The three of them had a lot of preparation work to get to and he was yearning for some lunch, having had plane food and a coke the whole day.

"You know you two should have lunch with us before you leave. I know Rose will be thrilled to see you and I'm sure you're planning on visiting your parents before you leave." Harold said, escorting them to back to their office.

"Definitely, Dr. Abbot." April replied.

"Yes, well it's a bit unfortunate we couldn't get the whole flock for dinner, but I'll make sure to invite Andy and Nina. Delia is in college this year so she won't be at home, but I'm sure you'll be happy to see those two." Dr. Harold said, stepping into the elevator and holding it open for Jackson and April to get through.

"Oh what is she studying?" April enquired, as Jackson quietly observed the conversation. He wasn't too keen to insert himself into it and so decided to merely nod along and say a few words whenever either one of them acknowledge him to help identify a person or explain a joke he had no idea, even after the explanation, why either of them found it funny.

He knew it was April who ended up accusing him this morning of him not revealing things to her, but the more and more he listened in on their conversation, the more he realized there was of his wife he knew little about. He was truly shocked at the amount of new information he was learning. Sure, he'd known the basics, but this was a specific, word to word account of a trip down memory lane, that made Jackson both happy and a little unsure to hear about. He wanted to know her, but was upset that he didn't already. He wondered, if this was how she would've felt last week. Except, a million times more overwhelmed.

He let her decide what to eat for lunch, trusting her opinion of Ohio food better than his and then slightly frowning having realized she'd stocked his plate with a salad, protein bar and orange juice. He figured he'd have to take a chance with a chili dog later.

"I'm sure, as you remember, I always pick a medical student to help me at the practice." Harold said, to which April nodded in confirmation, "Well, I was hoping he'd be able to scrub in on the surgery. Just to observe, nothing else, of course."

April looked at Jackson and he already knew her answer. She loved teaching. She took Grey Sloan's reputation for a teaching hospital very seriously, and had always been the most willing to teach out of all their attendings. He knew this was a definite yes on her part. He, on the other, was never too keen on the teaching aspect of his job, but figured that since Harold was so important to April, and he seemed like a nice guy, there was no reason to say no. Plus, whoever would just be standing by and it would certainly win some much needed brownie points with his wife.

He nodded his head, turning to Harold, "No problem, , we'd be happy to oblige."

"Wonderful. I think, April, dear, you'd be quite thrilled to know who it is." Harold said, poking into his salad enthusiastically.

"This is a really small town isn't it?" Jackson joked, unsure how it was possible for so many people to know each other.

"You bet," April laughed, biting into her protein bar, "Who is it ?"

"HANNAH!"

The three of them, turned around at the source of all the noise.

"BRIGHT?"

Jackson watched his wife, almost trample over herself, as she got up from the seat and ran towards the burly looking man, with curly blonde hair who was standing near their table, arms wide open, grinning like an idiot. He watched 'Bright' pick her up, the way Jackson usually does, and twirl her around, hugging her to his body.

The moment, initially only slightly confusing by why April responded to the name Hannah, which a second later he remembered was his wife's middle name and then as to who exactly Bright was that made April this happy to see him. Now, the moment was uncomfortable as neither made a move to let go, as they stayed in place, with Bright's grip tightening on her body. He didn't want to make a scene, but he was one second away from it.

"Um, who is that Harold, if you don't mind me asking?" Jackson inquired, tearing his gaze away from the two.

"Oh, that's the medical student I was telling you about. Brighton Abbot. He's my son. Him and April used to…" , trailed off, glancing away almost as if he'd said too much.

"Used to what?" Jackson asked, looking back over his shoulder, a bit of relief spreading through him when he sees that they have broken off the hug. Although, the animated talking about and shit eating grin 'Bright' keeps on his face isn't really helping all that much.

"They used to be friends," Dr. Abott commented, looking towards the approaching duo. "I see you two have had quite the reunion," He teased, gaining a laugh from both the two, minus Jackson, who was still low key sulking.

"I can't believe she's here." He grinned, his gaze stuck on April, who returned him with a warm smile. Jackson had had enough at this point.

"Nice to meet you, Bright. I'm , Jackson… I'm April's husband." He smirked, shaking Bright's arm in a strong grip.

Bright, didn't miss a beat, "Cool, dude. I'm Bright, well you know that. I'm Han- sorry. I'm so used to calling her Hannah." He laughs, and April merely grins at him, earning another eye roll from Jackson, "Anyway, man, I'm April's ex-boyfriend."

"You're what, now?" Jackson asked, not having been prepared for that.

He looked down at a guilty looking April who was avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.

"Small town, son. Small town." replied, and Jackson couldn't help but agree.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

Should I continue or nah? Let me know! :)

#japril #japril fanfiction #jackson avery #april kepner #jackson and april #japriet

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lsmithart · 4 years

Video

youtube

Women Art Revolution Documentary...

REFERENCES:

Анна Карвалейру, (2015). women art revolution limited 2010. Youtube. [Online]. Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyKmVo5jDdQ&list=PLTi6OHh9i_g7xVdPaEiaxRaGxHPajsN-G&index=44. [Accessed on 11/05/2020].

Film Notes:

In late 60’s women artists created a coalition titled ‘WAR’ - Women Art Revolution. Why was it necessary to do this? Books were written in a way that denigrated women artists if they were even mentioned.

There was no access to the work made by women - it was censored.

End of 1960’s - Almost no women artists that were visible.

What does it mean to be a woman artist? It is tough, must work much harder. White male shows were always preferable.

Minimalism - purpose was to arrive at an ever purer notion of what an object can be.

There was growing tensions between feminist and minimal art.

In protest to the invasion of Cambodia, artist Robert Morris closed his exhibition at the Whitney. Robert Rauschenberg and Carl Andre withdrew their work from the Venice Biennale. Together, the opened a Biennale of Exile in New York - but the artists were only white men. In response to this there was an uproar and an organisation called WSABAL (although this was actually just two people) protested against it. They made them think it was a large group! Projected slides of women’s art work, a fake press release and photos of eggs on the side of the Whitney. They also hid eggs in the museum, some with 50% written on them to demonstrate equality for women’s art.

Judy Chicago started the first ever Feminist Art Programme Group. Easier to access subject matter in the group through performance. Performance art - a peculiar place where people can be extremely experimental.

Micro-politics within family shaped women and their responses. Was a hard transition to all of a sudden be angry about men after such a long period of repression.

Liberation resulted in many of the women’s marriages coming to an end.

Statistically, n America, every 2 minutes a woman is raped.

‘The Politics of Housework’ - early feminist literature. Philosophical statements: “The Personal is the Political”.

‘The Semiotics of the Kitchen’ - feminist film work created by Martha Rosier in 1975.

Role playing and gender swapping in feminist artwork - Eleanor Antin, Lynn Hershman (alter ego), Judy Dater, Ana Mendieta, Martha Wilson.

Eleanor Antin, Adrian Piper, Howardena Pindell - made work about race.

Feminist artist Ana Mendieta married minimalist artist Carl Andre.

Miriam Schipiro and Judy Chicago - created Womanhouse. Turned a house into a feminist artwork collection.

The Woman’s Building - Los Angeles.

‘The Body Politic’ - Changing the narrative of women being looked upon.

Artist Examples:

“Intra-Venus Tapes” - Hannah Wilke

“Vital Statistics of a Citizen, Simply Obtained” - Martha Rosler (performance) - measured ruthlessly, prompting thoughts about the constraints and measurements of women constantly.

Eleanor Antin - series of photos of herself naked.

Ana Mendieta - the frailty of the female body. Violence and the vulnerability of women’s bodies.

“Feed Me” Barbara T Smith. Performance as the victim.

“Cut Piece” Yoko Ono - performance.

“Rhythm 10” Marina Abramovic - performance.

Carolee Schneemann - the body as an extension of material.

First Person Plural - Lyn Hershmann

Joan Semmel, Yael Semmek

The potential of artists as image makers in making change.

When Ana Mendieta died and Carl Andre was charged - no one in the art world really stood up against him in Mendieta’s defence - not even the Guerrilla Girls.

When Andre’s first show was shown since her death, there was mass protest against him.

‘Sexual Politics’ Exhibition.

Did feminism change the structure of the way art is made, sold and written about? Is identifying with feminism a limitation or not?

Cindy Sherman and Barbara Kruger iconic artists of feminist art period.

“History is fragile, it clings to the most obvious evidence that remains.”

Janine Antoni - made the work of the 70’s without realising. Found no information about iconic artists of that period recommended to her by professor such as Ana Mendieta, Hannah Wilke and Carolee Schneemann.

‘The New Museum’ founded in 1977 by Marcia Tucker.

1992 Women’s Action Coalition was formed. A feminist open-alliance that sought to address the issues of women’s rights through direct action.

WACK! Exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art opened in 2008.

#203

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dasenergi · 8 years

Text

Performance Artists

Marina Abramović

Vito Acconci

Bas Jan Ader

Francis Alys

Laurie Anderson

Eleanor Antin

Janine Antoni

David Askevold

Mireille Astore

Ron Athey

Franko B

Matthew Barney

Rebecca Belmore

Joseph Beuys

David Blaine

Günter Brus

Nancy Buchanan

Chris Burden

Sophie Calle

Papo Colo

Houston Conwill

Miss Crash

Valie Export

Bob Flanagan

Terry Fox

Coco Fusco

Guillermo Gómez-Peña

Alex Grey

Cai Guo-Qiang

Ann Hamilton

David Hammons

Jo Hanson

Newton Harrison

Sharon Hayes

Lynn Hershman

Rebecca Horn

Tehching Hsieh

Natalie Jeremijenko

Joan Jonas

Allan Kaprow

Yves Klein

Terence Koh

Paul Kos

Yayoi Kusama

Miriam Syowia Kyambi

Suzanne Lacy

James Luna

Jill Magid

Ann Magnuson

Christian Marclay

Marta Minujín

Milo Moiré

Kent Monkman

Linda Montano

Frank Moore

Charlotte Moorman

Bruce Nauman

Shirin Neshat

Pat Oleszko

Pauline Oliveros

Yoko Ono

Eiko Otaki

Nam June Paik

Gina Pane

Mark Pauline

Jim Pomeroy

Duke Riley

Rachel Rosenthal

Martha Rosler

Carolee Schneemann

Tino Sehgal

Bonnie Sherk

Barbara T. Smith

Michael Smith

Stelarc

Wolfgang Stoerchle

Rirkrit Tiravanija

Mierle Laderman Ukeles

Ulay

Wolf Vostell

Robert Whitman

Hannah Wilke

Yang Zhichao

#performance

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contemporaryartdaily · 8 years

Text

Week in Review: March 26, 2017

Welcome to Week in Review, our Sunday round-up of the last seven days of activity here at Contemporary Art Daily. Please subscribe to our RSS feed, follow us on Twitter, follow us on Tumblr, follow us on Instagram, and become a fan on Facebook.

We would like to thank our annual sponsor NADA. NADA is the definitive non-profit arts organization dedicated to the cultivation, support, and advancement of new voices in contemporary art.

We’d also like to thank our sponsors Exhibitionary, X-TRA, and xhbtr.

Exhibitionary is the new mobile gallery guide covering global art destinations from the most interesting galleries to major institutions and experimental project spaces.

X-TRA is is a quarterly contemporary art journal edited by a collective of artists and writers.

xhbtr makes getting your work online easy by providing design templates for artist websites.

Be sure to keep up with everything happening on our Office Notebook.

This week’s featured exhibitions:

Ghislaine Leung at Cell Project Space

Cécile B. Evans at Tate Liverpool

Lynn Hershman Leeson at Bridget Donahue

Will Benedict at Gio Marconi

Olga Balema at Hannah Hoffman

Shahryar Nashat at Rodeo

Agnieszka Polska at Overduin & Co.

Danny McDonald at House of Gaga

Oscar Tuazon at Eva Presenhuber

Matthew Zivich at What Pipeline

Wangechi Mutu at Gladstone Gallery

John McCracken at Venus

Emily Wardill at Bergen Kunsthall

Leidy Churchman at Koelnischer Kunstverein

Matthew Lutz-Kinoy at Mendes Wood DM

“Readymade” at Eva Presenhuber

Jenny Holzer at Oracle

Have an excellent week.

Contemporary Art Daily is produced by Contemporary Art Group, a not-for-profit organization. We rely on our audience to help fund the publication of exhibitions that show up in this RSS feed. Please consider supporting us by making a donation today.

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hellcity · 2 years

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The @wetpaintproject is a HC crowd favorite and will be returning to @hell_city Columbus on various stages in the 2nd Floor Ballroom May 19th-21st at the @hyattcolumbus ! 🎨

Be sure to be on the look out for a final updated Wet Paint Project Artist List coming soon!

Chris Dingwell

Christine Vallieres

Toby Gehrlich

David Hershman

Rember

Damon Conklin

Scott White

Hannah Aichison

Nicole Laabs

Kate Erso

Florida Domanski

Rudy Lopez

Caryl Cunningham

Susannah Griggs

Renee Little

Thea Duskin

Danielle Hitt

Catherine Kalleel

Paint will splatter, messes will be made, mistakes scratched out and painted over, accidents will happen, jokes will be told, drinks will be spilled; in short, artistic genius will unfold RIGHT BEFORE YOUR VERY EYES! Over a dozen local, as well as artists from around the country, will be working on their creations all weekend long. They will be fueling each others imaginations and sparking their creative flames. Come witness the artistic process in action all weekend long! You might even be able to buy the artwork whose birth you’ve witnessed at Hell City! There won’t be a dull moment on the WET PAINT PROJECT Stages all weekend long! @hell_city

#hellcity #hellcity2023 #hellcitytattoofest #hell #festival #hellcitytattoofestival #artwork #tattoo #art #convention #liveart #artist #tattooartist #2023 #tattoos #possession #hellcitykillumbus #hellcitycolumbus #columbus #paint #livepainting #wetpaint #painting #live #wetpaintproject2023 #wetpaintproject

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novelpublication · 8 years

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Novel Upstairs Ed Atkins, Lutz Bacher, Hannah Black, Elaine Cameron-Weir, Lawrence Abu Hamdan, Sidsel Meineche Hansen, James Hoff, Lisa Holzer, Travis Jeppesen, Lynn Hershman Leeson, Zoe Leonard, Stuart Middleton, Calla Henkel & Max Pitegoff, Richard Sides, Cally Spooner, Studio for Propositional Cinema, Martine Syms, Gili Tal, Oscar Tuazon, Peter Wachtler, Steven Warwick & Nora Khan and Canary Wharf. NOVEL Upstairs is published as part of the Upstairs Residency Programme at Bergen Kunsthall 22 November– 11 December 2016 Edited by Alun Rowlands & Matt Williams Designed by Sarah Boris PP.90, 162 x 229 mm ISBN 978-1-5272-0375-4

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nofomoartworld · 8 years

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Art F City: This Week’s Must-See Art Events: Propaganda for the Digital Age

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Today and tomorrow New Yorkers will be saddled by this terrible Northeaster storm, but that shouldn’t stop you from attending Hannah Cole’s talk on artist taxes today or Judith Bernstein’s talk and book launch dubbed dicks of death tomorrow. They’re too important to miss. By Wednesday art lovers will be able to head to the Lodge for an opening of John Wellington’s dystopian history paintings, and on Thursday to the New York City Opera to see electronic artist Dan Deacon’s “America” set to ballet. We’re particularly looking forward to seeing the ballet given Deacon’s connection to the blog. He’s a Baltimore resident and a long time muse for the blog.

By the time the weekend sets in, it’ll be all talks moderated by Art F City’s Paddy Johnson. On Saturday she’ll be discussing how the Nevada Test Site has influenced the paintings of Eric LoPresti with Eric LoPresti. Sunday, she’ll be discussing the evolving roll of storytelling in American culture with Jack Early and friends.

All of which is to say there’s plenty to see and do this week. So let’s not delay. Put these dates in your calendar and plan to compare notes later on!

Mon

SVA Room 101C

133/141 West 21st Street New York, NY 6:30 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.Website

Art, Technology, Ecology: A Talk by Artist Frank Gillette

Frank Gillette is known as both a pioneer of experimental video work and eco-conscious art practice. That might sound like an unlikely combo, but that’s part of why this promises to be an interesting talk. Gillette’s multi-channel video installations are informed by everything from cybernetic theory to observations of natural phenomenon, and his processes involve experiments with feedback and closed-circuit loops.

NYSRP

20 Jay St, Ste. M10 7:00 p.m.-9:00 p.m.Website

Hannah Cole

Art F City and the New York Studio Residency Program (NYSRP) present Taxes for Artists, a talk by accountant, artist and AFC Columnist Hannah Cole. Cole is a tax expert who specializes in working with creative businesses and artists. In this talk, she’s going to make sure you get every deduction you’ve never thought about.

Tue

Swiss Institute

102 Franklin St New York, NY 7:00 p.m.Website

Book Launch | Judith Bernstein: Dicks of Death

Judith Bernstein has been drawing dicks for more than half a century, because, in her own words, “men may own it in a bodily sense, but men don’t own the image!”

An artist after our own hearts, indeed. On the event of her publication launch, she’ll be joined in discussion by Hyperallergic co-editor Thomas Micchelli, who’s also drawn and painted his fair share of anatomy.

MoMA

11 West 53rd Street New York, NY 8:00 p.m. Website

Alexandra Bachzetsis’s "Massacre: Variations on a Theme"

This performance commission from MoMA involves dancers and pianists and “positions the female body as a technological form caught between animism and automatism…”

I’m not familiar with Alexandra Bachzetsis’s work, but this sounds promising. The piece will be installed as a video during museum hours, but there will be live performances starting Tuesday. If you can’t catch the opening night, there are a few other chances to see it live:

Wednesday, January 25, 8:00 p.m. Friday, January 27, 10:00 p.m. Saturday, January 28, 8:00 p.m.

Wed

Gladstone 64

130 East 64th Street New York, NY 6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m. Website

Andro Wekua: A Dog's Fidelity

I’m not entirely sure what to expect from Andro Wekua’s latest installation at Gladstone 64. The description begins with a poem about dogs’ memories, promises seascapes and portraits that reference icons, and paintings inspired by video, collage, and sculpture. But if this painting that looks like a still from a parking garage surveillance camera is any indication, it should be good and strange.

The Lodge Gallery

131 Chrystie St. New York, NY 7:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.Website

John Wellington: TEMPLE TOMB FORTRESS RUIN

John Wellington’s paintings are delightfully kitschy-dystopian—mashing up history painting, mythology, militarism, and pop-culture. A year ago, I would’ve likened his work to covers for really weird pulp sci-fi paperbacks. Today, I’m a little concerned these are eerily prescient of the world those creepy dancing “Freedom Kids” from Florida are going to inherit as adults.

Thu

Sean Kelly Gallery

475 Tenth Avenue New York, NY 6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.Website

James Casebere: Emotional Architecture

Photographer James Casebere created this series by painstakingly recreating models of Luis Barragán buildings. These tiny doll-house-like modernist masterpieces were then photographed, capturing the Mexican architect’s famously considered sense of light and color while adding an otherworldly sense of materiality and scale. These are so, so lovely and inviting.

David H Koch Theater

20 Lincoln Center Plaza New York, NY 7:30 p.m.Website

The Times Are Racing (World Premiere)

Dan Deacon’s album America (2012) feels so urgent and timely nearly 5 years later it’s crazy. The music is anthemic but uncertain, frenetic and driving. When it first came out, it felt like the soundtrack to American life post-Occupy. Deacon described the album as “inspired by my frustration, fear and anger towards the country and world I live in and am a part of.”

Now, the New York City Ballet is inaugurating a new show set to America, choreographed by Justin Peck. If the gorgeous promo video they shot in the subway is any indication, they’ve succeeded in capturing that energy. We can’t wait to see this.

Fri

Bridget Donahue

99 Bowery New York, NY 12:00 p.m. - 6:00 p.m.Website

Lynn Hershman Leeson: Remote Controls

We’re looking forward to American artist and filmmaker Lynn Hershman Leeson latest solo show at Bridget Donahue. Aside from being a trailblazer in the field of new media and feminism, she’s spent a lifetime exploring issues of voyeurism and surveillance—issues that couldn’t be more relevant today.

This show will include an interactive video from 1979-82, a sexual fantasy video disc from 1984 and a two channel synchronized installation inside a dollhouse (1993-2011).

Sat

MoCADA

80 Hanson Pl Brooklyn, New York 12:00 p.m. - 7:00 p.m.Website

Brown Paper Zine & Small Press Fair

3 Dot Zine, founded by artist Devin N Morris, is hosting a weekend-long zine fest at the Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts. The festival grew out of Morris’s realization that POC tend to be underrepresented in DIY publishing and zine culture.

Beyond vendors, the festival features programming such as workshops and screenings on Saturday and Sunday.

Elizabeth Houston

190 Orchard Street 2 p.m.Website

Eric LoPresti and Paddy Johnson in Conversation

IMG MGMT artist Eric LoPresti and Art F City’s own Paddy Johnson will discuss LoPresti’s recent work. LoPresti’s essay focused on massive scale land art and the Nevada Test Site, and his art work similarly focuses on the Nevada test site landscape and flora and fauna.

Sun

The Wythe Hotel

80 Wythe Ave 3:00 p.m.

Post-truth Storytelling: The Personal Narrative in the Digital Age

Time for a bit of face to face talk, as an antidote to the never-ending social media wars.

This talk, which is lead by Jack Early and moderated by Art F City’s own Paddy Johnson, will include Richard Agerbeek and Leja Kress, Co Founders of SwedenUnlimited, Jacob Bernstein, Director of “Everything is Copy” and other luminaries. Together they will focus on how the democratization of media has affected storytelling. What narratives do we chose to believe? Which ones tells us who we are and who we want to become and which are corrosive falsehoods that erode our sense of wellbeing? How do we navigate fact and fiction in this new world?

Unlike the usual food-free talks we’re all used to in the art world, this one will include fries and drinks. And those are all the ingredients necessary to really connect in this world!

from Art F City http://ift.tt/2jS2rpN via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Art F City

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