Oh, my savior, oh!
Just finished watching the documentary, Sick: the life and death of Bob Flanagan. So much to say.
Well, I could write a full text on unpacking that film, questions I have that would take years to answer, however, for the sake of two weeks worth of talk/text/thought, I will have to consolodate this experience within the framework of camera as pre-post humous aperatus. To further clarify, I am examining the documentary in relationship to the idea of self-representation and collaboration of the extension of self temporally through mediated image and performance. Furthermore, how, even though Flanagan “gives up” much of his body to his partner, the art institution, and medicine, he maintains a quality of control that confounds and inspires bodies of many variants.
In Sick, we are privy to Bob Flanagan’s history and current life at the time of the film. AT the point of filming, we understand that Flanagan has already generated fame through his writing and art practice, we also know he will die. While extremely located in his body through being not only marked as differently abled, through Cystic Fibrosis, but also considered a medical anomoly, Flanagan achieves art-star status through his extremely corporeal performances. Though not reduced to “freak-show” status, Flanagan asserts himself as active agent and creator of his life/art, and that, turns the fairy-tale narrative of active agent on its head through the unabashed contract he makes with his life partner, Sheree Rose, to be in control of his body. This constant upheaval of “right” narratives presents a complex portrayal of an artist, and person, who situates themselves within the forms and flux of their body/life.
Throughout the film, Flanagan’s art work is showcased. Often, he utilizes video/ document in order to concretize and elongate his corporeality. While he remains aware of the construction of ALL of it, I would like to focus on his use of video installation in order to hone in on the idea of the camera as the extension of his physical self not only while alive, but through death. Flanagan uses video and photo in order to place himself in time beyond his death. This awareness of death goes beyond mere documentation of atrophy. It is a way to contend with the knowledge of death. His humor and relationship to his body/condition/insight/intelligence is thoughtfully executed within his art practice (life practices, as well). While Rose uses the photograph as documentation as an archive, Flanagan prefers to use the mediation of physical form to generate humor and conversation on a larger scale, meaning, gallery locations. In this way, Flanagan challenges the viewer’s expectation, constantly, of how to perceive the physically sick and challenged, and the sexually marginalized and taboo.
Flanagan articulates that he is both completely located in his body as person and an artist, while at the same time, illustrates the blurry boundaries of our physical forms: they can bleed, die, and also be eternal.
More to come, first thoughts….
(finally, though, not to be missed, is that the film ended with the poem you referenced, and I sobbed in the thoughts of how incredible you are.)
Reblog if you’re Team Sharon Needles!
See who gets crowned in the Reunion and Coronation on Monday at 9/8c on Logo!
(via monstrousfemme)
Work in Progress
Secret performance tonight; Public lecture tomorrow. The question remains, will Judith Butler be impressed?
Combo the Art/Text practice: "MFYAY: An almost locked bibliography."
Auslander, Philip. Liveness: Performance in a Mediatized Culture. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2008.
Banes, Sally. “Olfactory Performances,” in The Senses in Performance, edited by Sally Banes and André Lepecki, 10–28. New York: Routledge, 2007.
Benjamins, Erik. “To Gnaw With…
Constructing the Normate Body
Doing an independent study on it.
First/Sloppy review on Goffman’s Stigma Theory as it (may) relate to the Radicant/Contemporary+funny videos:
This week, the readings functioned as an introduction to the concept of stigma as purported through a sociological lens. While at times I found this definition to be a little wide-swept: making claims for groups of people as whole circumstances- overall, it became a helpful framework by which to articulate a particular condition. This condition, stigma, which is supported through social, political, economic, and cultural means and regulations, is one that constructs an individual body in a constant state of fear and flux. This flux, which at anytime can produce a stigmatized body, affects the individual as well as the greater culture in which the individual exists in. As a precursor to what we will be covering through the cultural production and challenge to these over-arching systems and structures, I found the cut- and-dry definitions of this term to be helpful. In terms of a contemporary artistic lens, I couldn’t help but consider a ghostly Bourriaud in my mind while reading about the dilemma of difference that Coleman discusses. In the Radicant, in particular, Bourriaud envisions a world in which the individual is a fluid entity, which transcends beyond the boundaries and borders of their born-into state or condition. He cites that this concept can be useful for queer and feminist theory, as it proposes a more open way to consider the margins of self and identity. However, as stigmatization theory suggests, this transcendence is simply impossible- for the individuals who may be stigma-free in one circumstance may find themselves at odds with another circumstance/space/position. In this way, I think of Gloria Anzaldua, who discusses her trials and progresses as an individual who rests between various languages and national borders in Borderlands: what works physically or linguistically in one space is a problem in another- so where does Anzaldua find home? She doesn’t, really, in any traditional sense. Rather, she must make do with this nomadic space- a space Bourriaud considers a place of the future. However, this resignation is not always one of positivity, rather, it is survival. This lead me to think of artist Stanya Kahn, who utilizes humor as a means to discuss the quality of stigmatic physical marks. In her video, It’s Cool, I’m Good, Kahn is dressed in various bandages and talks to the camera/viewer as a friend and/or observer. She walks around the city, doing, at times, seemingly absurd tasks. The longer you watch, however, the humor turns into various emotive states- showcasing a complexity of a condition that remains unknown to the viewer. This results in elevating the figure from object of humor to nuanced subject. This take on stigma can be a useful one in terms of artistic production- offering another form by which we can understand this complicated and ever-changing condition of relationships between people.
Applicate Yourself
New Port Nowhere
This is meant to be clarified, a bit, as I get a little more time away from this place.
New Port Richey is a retirement town that lies north of St Petersburg Florida and west of Tampa. There is no industry to speak of, and its a product of: sprawl, lack of imagination, and almost a half a century worth of the housing Ponzi scheme that has infected most of Florida.
I feel as though I can solve most physics problems better than I can the logistics of New Port Richey, Florida. Hours spent driving in the car alongside my sister, I racked my brain attempting to figure out how people make and spend money here, how or what people do, and what transpires to be. We looked at stripper shoes for a day and went to play pool at night. I saw “exotic” pets in what felt like someone’s glorified garage. We walked along boardwalks above the mangroves while my sister talked about being afraid of people living underneath them at night- grabbing at her and her dog. I went to Starbucks everyday I was visiting- there are no coffee shops other than this. I listened to people talk about people on drugs, people who were fighting other people, people working at the local Buffet and being able to find 50 cent costume jewelry. Everyone does something for the medical industry until the get caught with weed. And everyone smokes weed.
Flare Jeans have not gone out of style here.
Gel’d hair still reigns as top-notch.
Your car is more important than your house or your spouse.
The industry of the male-identified body suffers as supreme. The showmanship and performance of a male-centrenic universe creates a bizarre parody-reality in which no one wins or comes out more complete, pure, or understood.
An 18 year-old couldn’t believe I was with a woman and, subsequently, attempted- albeit harmlessly, to “win” me over; while I repeatedly told him that his hair and large jeans were doing nothing to make a bigger personality of himself, but, rather, a foolish illustration of his potential as a person, not a “man.
I did meet a poly-amorous bisexual nudist who gave me a fist-pump when he found out i was part of what he called the “LGBTQ Family” and then bought me a 2 dollar drink in a smoke-filled pool hall.
Drama starts easily here- in a place where recreation doesnt exist and everyone becomes confined to car, domestic, work, and bar spaces. And who can blame them? I became angry, too. The sun-bleached strip malls, acres of pavement, faded signs that promise sexual relief from a life no one can afford… all of this adds up to a state of agitation, frustration, and confusion that, understandably, has the potential to actually undermine the concept of simulacra.
Its like an old Guns and Roses album on a lo-fi, rusty, transistor radio- there is a passion that cannot reach across the airwaves and becomes meaningless, but not by any fault of the maker- but of the device used to communicate ideas and desires.
Video Stills from new vid: Applicate Yourself
