Thinking about Performance Documentation

Posted on February 12, 2015 by Fleur Kenneally

Whilst exploring Philip Auslander’s The Performativity of Performance Documentation, it made me begin to question what really counts as a ‘performance’. He splits performance documentation into two types: Theatrical and Documentary. Auslander describes ‘documentary’ performance as the traditional way of performance art – being performed there and then, with people witnessing or recording it actually happening. However, ‘theatrical’ is almost the second hand performance. Although in the final performance documentation, it may look real – this type of performance is staged to look as if it really happened, but actually didn’t happen. Only in the final documentation (the photograph) is when you can see something happening. This made me think of our present day society. How do we know what is really real, with editing apps such as photoshop and green screen to make film settings and imagery look more enhanced? What is the original picture or performance art – taking the original photo, or adding to it to make it something different? The power of photography and camera works is something that particularly stands out to me.

Auslander uses two performance art works by practitioners Chris Burden and Yves Klein as evidence of these two classifications. Chris Burden’s 1971 performance art named ‘Shoot’, fits into the category of ‘documentary’ performance/body art. In this performance, Chris Burden is shot in his left arm and we can visually see and hear him being shot on the recording. (Waldir Barreto, 2008). Although it is clear he was definitely shot, who are his intended audience? The people who were present at the onset of the recording, or us, the viewers watching through the recording? In this sense, body art performance works needs the photograph to confirm its having happened: it is an ‘anchor for its indexicalities.’ (Auslander, -). Without the recording, Burden would only have the people present at the time to vouch for the shooting happening. Secondly is that of Yves Klein’s ‘theatrical’ performance documentation called ‘Jumping into the Void‘. In this performance art, Klein intended to generate a piece of art which would have some sort of ‘social impact of mass media as a means of persuasion.’ (Zone Zero, -).

Klein was actually only falling onto a padded matt beneath him and then the photograph was edited to put the outside photo with the upper part of the photo. This is why it is so contrasting to see the man on the bike acting so casually. This photo can completely alter someone’s view of that space and time. As stated by Klein, he believes that ‘man will only be capable of conquering space after impregnating it with his own sensitivity.’ (Klein, 1961.)

When using this knowledge of what is the real, authentic act of the performance, Auslander talks about audio recordings, using The Beatles as an example. When they record their music, the instruments do not always play with them, they play separately and are then added together to make layers of music that mould together to make one. Therefore he makes the reader question whether the music we listen to really is true or authentic. During one of our sessions, our group decided to use these theories as a possibility for performance work, playing with the idea of complexities of photo’s within photo’s. Whilst sat in the cafe, we took this photo using multiple devices, which could then possibly carry on if people were to take a photo of ours and so forth. Here was our experiment in performance documentation:

Works Cited:

Auslander, P. (-) The Performativity of Performance.

Waldir Barreto (2008) Chris Burden : Shoot, 1971. [online video] Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JE5u3ThYyl4 [Accessed 12 February 2015].

Zone Zero (-) Jumping into the Void. [online]. Available from: http://v1.zonezero.com/magazine/zonacritica/saltaralvacio/index.html [Accessed 12 February 2015.]

Week 2: Site, representation and perspectives

Posted on February 10, 2015 by Fleur Kenneally

When originally exploring the site, I took many photos of documentation to reflect what intrigued or inspired me about the uphill surroundings. Having lived in Lincoln for over a year, it would be more than likely that I would carelessly walk through the site without really taking in every aspect of its culture and history. As described by Phil Smith in the chapter: The Handbook of Drifting, he encourages that individuals who partake in Guy Debord’s ‘derive’ (also known as a drift) must look for a theme: textures, the old, the new; looking for meaning in everything. This type of walk described as ‘drifting’ aims to detach us from our comfort zone and take chances on where a walk may take us. One of Smith’s instructions is to ‘get rid of rational-way finding’ to collectively allow ‘what has happened so far to determine your next choice.’ (Smith, 2010, 119). It is almost like being an excited child and letting your instincts guide you, rather than guiding ourselves by what we merely think we would like to see. Thus, Debord developed a concept known as ‘pyschogeography’ – intertwining our conscious everyday critical thinking as a ‘playful encounter with [a site]’ (Govan et al, 2007, 141).

Continuing from the idea of playfulness, we were set a task to go on a walk and create a map of some sort to record our encounters of the space. Me and Megan decided that we would focus on that of the senses – drawing buildings that we found distinctive, textures that grabbed us and conversations we could hear around us. Here is my mix-matched map of our walk around uphill Lincoln:

Our mix-matched map!

As you can see, we noted particularly snippets of conversations we heard as passers by, which we found quite comical. Once we had returned from our short explorations in pairs, we came back to St. Paul’s courtyard in Bailgate to create our own misguides and tours of our own. Arlene Sanderson talks about ‘Wrights and Sites’ for those interested in the performed activity of walking. A manifesto was created which depicted how they wanted to generate walking that ‘engages with and changes the city, it recruits the arts not as passive expressions, but as the active changes of it.’ (1991, 70). In this sense, we were given the freedom to create misguided tours around the courtyard. Me and Megan decided to act upon the idea of playfulness and decided to view the courtyard as if from a child’s perspective. The benches near the well were the safety zone, whilst the shape formed on the floor further away from the well was the deep dark depths of the underworld. Other groups took us on various tours and some of these intriguing misguides are shown on my flickr photo stream, which you can view through the link at the beginning of my blog post.

Works Cited:

Smith, P. (2010) Mythogeography: A guide to walking sideways. London: Axminster Triarchy Press.

Govan, E., Nicholson, H., and Normington, K. (2007) Making a Performance: Devising Histories and Contemporary Practices. New York: Routledge.

Sanderson, A. (1991) A Manifesto for a New Walking Culture: ‘Dealing with the City’. In: Wrights and sites. United States: Washington Preservation Press.

‘I know it like the back of my hand’

Posted on February 9, 2015 by Jessica Greaves

In today’s lesson we were asked to follow some sort of map, or route. I started thinking of a more interesting way to find a route instead of drawing one on paper, of following a certain item. I do not know Lincoln very well and I especially do not know the top of the hill at all, this made me start to think about people who did know the area and got me asking questions like, how do we know where to go? Which direction do we take first? This linked me onto the phrase that people often use in a place they know very well – “I know it like the back of my hand.” This triggered me into thinking about that phrase literally rather than figuratively, because of course no one really looks at the back of their hand if they’re lost right? Well this got me thinking again, about what if I did use my hand to create the map; thus knowing the route ‘like the back of my hand’. https://www.flickr.com/photos/130645709@N04/sets/72157650897301775/

The next step was a starting point for the map on my hand, as I am quite vascular, I started with the most prominent vein and went from there, drawing on my hand, where I went and what I saw. However, following my veins ended rather quickly as a lot of the roads I travelled down were dead ends, resulting in me having to back track and to find a different route which weren’t ones that matched with my veins. This idea had a very interesting outcome as I feel like I was the only one who really understood my drawings and which direction was what, but overall found it to be very productive and I was able to find a route that I was happy with.

Its the uphill climb

Posted on February 8, 2015 by Sophie Louise Levesque-Payne

So Monday just gone we had the wonderful opportunity to have a guided tour (or drifting) of uphill lincoln by Rachel. Which was an amazing thing to explore and really got me thinking about life and death. Strange I know however here are my two reasons;

Death – walking up steep hill on a Monday morning for 9am in the freezing cold! Okay I’m being a little to dramatic but at the time I thought I could of ended my life.

Life – overlooking Lincoln from a viewing point near the cathedral & castle I felt like God looking over the world. It made me appreciate the uphill climb of the famous killer steep hill.

When I used to live in Lincoln as a child. I never really enjoyed the buildings and historical facts that were connected to the uphill section of Lincoln. But after the drift I discovered a lot more that got my creative juices flowing!

“To be a place, every somewhere must lie on one or sereval paths of movement to and from places elsewhere. Life is lived, I reasoned, along paths, not just in places, and paths are lines of a sort“. (Ingold, 2007,p.2)

This quote links to a task we were set in the gardens of the old Victorian mental asylum located west of the castle. As a group we collected a twig/stick each and followed it. My stick had three main paths to choose from . I picked the middle path which led me to some broken yellow foam from a dog ball or lemon skin.

After walking around the cathedral and the secret garden it made me and a couple of friends decide that we felt connected with this site. The garden felt like a place you would enter after you’ve passed like God’s waiting room. I think it’s connected more by religion as the garden is right next to the cathedral’s door to heaven.

I’m looking forward to doing some more research into the site(s) on Monday but not as excited about the walk up the hill again.

Till next time…

Ingold, T. (2000) The Perception of the Environment: Essay on Livelihood, Dwelling and Skills (London, Routeledge).

Week 1: Opening our eyes to the idea of ‘space’

Posted on February 2, 2015 by Fleur Kenneally

Site-Specific Performance takes us from the comforting conventionalities of the theatrical world and encouragingly opens our eyes to all the spaces that we often seem to take for granted. Whilst conventional theatre takes a play and refines its meaning into the given space, Site Specific involves making a performance that ‘responds to a place from the perspective of an outsider’ (Govan, 2007, 121). Performance artists look at a space and draw meaning from it – whether it be cultural, historical, philosophical or more, it generates a narrative for new perspectives to arise. It can happen any where at any time and for any length. What I find most intriguing about site-specific performance, is the term of ‘space’. Before taking this module, if I were to think of the word ‘space’ I would immediately associate this as something blank and isolated; somewhere that has to be busy to have meaning. Henceforth when reading Mike Pearson’s Site-Specific Performance, I realised that spaces around us whether neglected or bustling, withhold meaning on their own. It does this by engaging with ‘site as a symbol, site as storyteller [and] site as structure’ (Wilkie, 2002, 158). Simple moments of a loud conversation, a torn up piece of paper on the floor or an interesting architectural design all have a story to tell. Site-specific performers can then take these as documentation and reinvent a new or reflective meaning for those who are visiting or those whom know it extremely well.

Linking this into our first week of workshops and seminars, it made me think back to our first year module of Reading Performance and how we actually define ‘performance’. Richard Schechner’s book Performance Studies: An Introduction suggests that performance ‘examines texts, architecture, visual arts … not in themselves, but as players in ongoing relationships.’ (Schechner, 2013, 2). Everything in our day to day life could be seen as performance: the way we act in front of friends and family, pausing at traffic lights, entering though a door way and so forth. Taking part in a subtle mob to create a new experience for not only ourselves to take in, but to affect the experience of others. Although it seemed a very bizarre idea at the time, it really made us observe all the little movements and gestures of people in the area and the purpose of the site. In some ways the site outside the library/LPAC is used as a liminal space (neither here nor there, a travelling space), whilst it could also be a meeting place for new students. Reflecting on this, it allowed me to realise that site’s may have more than one meaning and that is what can be incredibly special about a performance taking place in them. Whatever meaning we may find can be extracted from the space and applied specifically to the site, through the medium of performance. Having the opportunity to work uphill in Lincoln is incredible and I look forward to the journey we will experience!

Pearson, M. (2010) Site-Specific Performance. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

Schechner, R. (3rd ed) (2010) Performance Studies: An Introduction. London: Routledge.

Govan, E., Nicholson, H. and Normington, K. (2007) Making a Performance. New York: Routledge.

The top of the hill

Documentation from a Site Specific Performance Project in Lincoln, UK (2015)

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