Performance Art & Busking
Busking - City Angels
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Why performances and busking?
They provide an immediate presence for artists in society. They are conceptual art forms - art of ideas over product. Given that machines make things, it is up to humans to create and recreate experiences. Very importantly, both art forms allow the public to gain direct access into the art world. But wouldn't you agree that performance art is often inaccessible in that, it is esoteric? Esoteric, shamanistic, instructive, provocative or entertaining, yes, performance art is all of these and more. Art, like any other field, has its own terminology. It is the viewers' responsibility to acquaint themselves with the language of art. As artists, we meet the viewers halfway by engaging their attention. Busking arrests the viewers' attention by surprising them with the unexpected - a performance on the street! Performance art is often quite the spectacle that shocks viewers into being attentive. From there, it is the viewers' duty to be receptive, to explore, to go beyond the literal and obvious show before them and delve into the metaphorical and poetical layers to arrive at meaning. Even if they find themselves asking, "But is this art?" they are reassessing their own notions of art and its relation to culture. They are raising questions about the very nature of art and gaining new insights into it. My first encounter with performance art was similarly shocking and inscrutable but that's what drew me to it, to want to understand it and do it. Tell us about this performance. It was in 1993, I think. It was Lee Wen's Journey of the Yellow Man at the Substation. I was intrigued by this half-naked, bald performer painted yellow and his rice grain trail. I couldn't understand it at the onset but I wanted to. It was so full of powerful imagery, rich in symbolism. Slowly, I pieced the images and actions together and came to an understanding that was not unlike the synopsis on the wall. But the explanation paled in comparison to the many layers and textures, the subtle nuances of the performance. That's something I've learnt about performance art since; it's like poetry. Don't rush into a critical analysis of it. Luxuriate in it. Then reflect on what you have seen. Did you then embark on performance? No, not immediately. I helped mostly backstage at first. I was stage manager for Zai Kuning's Blue Monkish. It was a revelation in terms of performance art. Only much later in 1997 in Perth, Australia did I begin to perform. It was shortly after an inspiring workshop with world-renowned performance artist, Sterlac. I started with simple actions, props and costumes in performances entitled Dreams, AlienNation and In Search of Home but later gave voice to my gestures with self-written narratives. I felt my dramatised narratives were more effective in conveying my thoughts, feelings and concerns. What about busking? Busking was legalised in 1997 in Singapore. It was no longer considered 'begging' but instead recognised as an art form. I jumped at the opportunity to take art directly to the public. I strongly believe that art is for everyone, not just people who can afford a ticket to the theatre or get invited to gallery openings. It also enables me to assimilate play and pleasure in my art and make art that functions outside the confines of a museum or gallery. Like performance art, it is live art by |
artists. I was initiated into the busking world by Roy Payamal. I was lucky to busk alongside him; I believe he is Singapore's first true busker. He busked when it was illegal, championing this art form through much adversity.
What were your themes in busking?
Roy and I took on angel personae - celestial beings bringing a message of hope, love, peace and joy when we busked. In March 2003 we were invited by the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum to perform at their annual festival. Our brand of busking involved mime and using our bodies as sculpture. I studied mime under Professor Frederic Herrera and the late Christina Sergeant, founder of Mime Unlimited.
What do you enjoy about busking and performance?
First and foremost, I can give it directly to the people. In my mostly representational and figurative art, they allow for abstraction. In my orderly world, they afford me some anarchy with unorthodox presentations. They are permissive, open-ended mediums with endless variables and they surpass the limitations of more established art forms. They defy precise or easy definition. I can draw freely from any number of disciplines and media: literature, poetry, theatre, music, dance, architecture, painting, video, film, slides, narratives...in any combination. I can perform solo or in a group, as myself or a persona - a boundless manifesto. I can make my own definitions in the very process and manner of execution. Lastly, they are a testing ground for my ideas before I express them visually. My Female Nudes, Sacred Stories - Divine Forms collages, Almost Angel series and assemblages evolved from my performances and busking.
What were your themes in busking?
Roy and I took on angel personae - celestial beings bringing a message of hope, love, peace and joy when we busked. In March 2003 we were invited by the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum to perform at their annual festival. Our brand of busking involved mime and using our bodies as sculpture. I studied mime under Professor Frederic Herrera and the late Christina Sergeant, founder of Mime Unlimited.
What do you enjoy about busking and performance?
First and foremost, I can give it directly to the people. In my mostly representational and figurative art, they allow for abstraction. In my orderly world, they afford me some anarchy with unorthodox presentations. They are permissive, open-ended mediums with endless variables and they surpass the limitations of more established art forms. They defy precise or easy definition. I can draw freely from any number of disciplines and media: literature, poetry, theatre, music, dance, architecture, painting, video, film, slides, narratives...in any combination. I can perform solo or in a group, as myself or a persona - a boundless manifesto. I can make my own definitions in the very process and manner of execution. Lastly, they are a testing ground for my ideas before I express them visually. My Female Nudes, Sacred Stories - Divine Forms collages, Almost Angel series and assemblages evolved from my performances and busking.
Selected Performances
We Live, As We Dream - Alone
Perth, Australia, 1997
This performance seeks to explore and convey the dream sensation.
In relating an experience to someone, something is lost in the telling; the sensation of the experience cannot be recounted or recaptured fully. No matter how eloquent 'the teller', a gap remains between her/him and the listener. Life experiences happen as if in isolation, specific to the individual.
The dream experience is very much like the life experience but to a greater extent because apart from the dreamer, no one else experiences the dream, making it almost impossible to convey. As such, "we live, as we dream - alone." - Joseph Conrad
It is this sense of ineffective communication, this loss, this breakdown in relating that I seek to explore. This performance is a presentation of the dream sensation, dealing with feelings of helplessness, immobility, vulnerability and struggle. Despite our incapability of experiencing each other's dreams in their entirety, I hope to remind the viewer that we share a common knowledge that is, dreams are a dimension where logic is defied, time is irrelevant, clarity is obscured, and frustration, confusion and wisdom abound.
The dream experience is very much like the life experience but to a greater extent because apart from the dreamer, no one else experiences the dream, making it almost impossible to convey. As such, "we live, as we dream - alone." - Joseph Conrad
It is this sense of ineffective communication, this loss, this breakdown in relating that I seek to explore. This performance is a presentation of the dream sensation, dealing with feelings of helplessness, immobility, vulnerability and struggle. Despite our incapability of experiencing each other's dreams in their entirety, I hope to remind the viewer that we share a common knowledge that is, dreams are a dimension where logic is defied, time is irrelevant, clarity is obscured, and frustration, confusion and wisdom abound.
In Search Of Home Or Some Such Sense Of Self
Perth, Australia, 1997
A performance pertaining to Popular Culture, Hyperreality and Identity.
This performance attempts to gain insights into the abounding sense of isolation and alienation today despite being told that progress and technology are making the world smaller and bringing us closer. It contemplates our basic physical, social and psychological relationships. These have been modified by gloss and fabricated truths which promote conformity and uniformity, building an illusory sense of community and kinship around the sameness of one culture that is, Popular Culture rather than plurality. Such a culture advocates harmony in similarity as opposed to harmony in diversity.
Our knowledge and experience of beauty, desire, life and death have been informed and dictated by the mass media, MTV and cyberspace. Our idea of the world is not taken from the world but through a consumption of images. This mediated experience distances us from ourselves and alienates us from one another. We consume but lack the urge to create. Without this urge, the struggle to have an individual sense of self is compromised or lost.
This is a search for the formation of our notion of self and an understanding of it. Walls must be passed through or broken down to build a bridge between illusion and reality so that we can come back to ourselves and live more fully in the world, to unlearn the habit of culture consumption and relearn culture debating and creating, to "turn your back on the media and live." - Jochen Gerz
I appropriate imagery and audio-visual excerpts from The Wizard of Oz to draw a parallel between Dorothy's literal journey home and my metaphorical journey to reclaim my sense of self.
Our knowledge and experience of beauty, desire, life and death have been informed and dictated by the mass media, MTV and cyberspace. Our idea of the world is not taken from the world but through a consumption of images. This mediated experience distances us from ourselves and alienates us from one another. We consume but lack the urge to create. Without this urge, the struggle to have an individual sense of self is compromised or lost.
This is a search for the formation of our notion of self and an understanding of it. Walls must be passed through or broken down to build a bridge between illusion and reality so that we can come back to ourselves and live more fully in the world, to unlearn the habit of culture consumption and relearn culture debating and creating, to "turn your back on the media and live." - Jochen Gerz
I appropriate imagery and audio-visual excerpts from The Wizard of Oz to draw a parallel between Dorothy's literal journey home and my metaphorical journey to reclaim my sense of self.
Dramatised Narratives
These following excerpts of self-written narratives interspersed with modified nursery rhymes are based on true accounts by women about sexual molestation and rape. They aim to create an awareness of female issues and promote equality of the sexes. They were first performed at Plastique Kinetic Worms Festival in October 1999.
Excerpts:
Sex Crimes, Nursery Rhymes (I)
Dark morning bus ride, Margaret and I, schoolgirls on our way to school. Girls in front, men in back. No seats in front, two girls in back. Stranger's arm outstretched. Crooked man, crooked smile, smiling while he made her cry. Finger her flesh. Touch her breast. Silenced in her fear. Scream where only such screams are heard, inside childhood tears. Little Ms Margaret sat in the backseat, dreaming her way to school. Along came a stranger. Sat down beside her. Filled her with fright and fear.
Sex Crimes, Nursery Rhymes (II)
Rockabye baby on the treetop. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. Rock, rock, horror, shock, an uncle shouldn't touch so fondly. No words to describe this feel-good fear. Ssshh...I'll kill your mum and dad if you tell anybody! Daddy, sweet Daddy, come blow your horn. There's a fly in your buttermilk. There's a thief in your corn. Where's the sweet Daddy who looks after the sheep? He's oblivious to uncle. He's fast asleep. Those who should protect her become her attacker.
Building A Rape Culture
After I was raped, it was a cold place. My perpetrator left me there alone with time to think, with time to doubt, "Had I asked for it?" It's not safe for a girl to be out on her own in a dark, deserted place. "Yes, I had asked for it." Only in CRIMES AGAINST WOMEN must the VICTIM be BLAMED. That's what a girl gets for dressing up like that, not wearing a bra, staying out late at night by herself in a lonely place. There are things that a GIRL MUST LEARN to FEAR. And yes, let's accept that BOYS WILL BE BOYS.
//
The next excerpt is from a dramatised narrative concerning Popular Culture, Hyperreality and Identity, initially performed in conjunction with the As It Is exhibition.
A Culture Of Hate. A Culture Of Death.
Whether we walk or ride through the city, every step of the way, we are told that we are just not good enough - not tall enough, not thin enough, not fit enough, not young enough, not fair enough, not hairless enough, not beautiful enough. Not, not, not good enough. The oppressor says we are not good enough and we believe it. We relinquish our power to those who want to annihilate us. We buy into a value system that isn't ours, ashamed and in denial of ourselves. This abuse steals our capacity to love and be loved. We internalise the abuse and become so full of self-hatred, self-loathing! Waking up every morning, looking in the mirror and all we see are the spots and pimples that must be removed - a flawless complexion is all that matters. Waking in the morning hating our thighs, hips, nose, eyes, lips, teeth, hair, weight, height... WE HATE! WE HATE! WE HATE! What kind of culture is this where we cannot love how we look? What kind of culture is this which breeds misery, depression and dissatisfaction? What kind of culture is this where we are not allowed to age!
We are not poor imitations of fashion photographs. Fashion photographs are poor imitations of real people. When you take a fabricated and glossed-over individual and hold this individual up as an ideal, you are holding up death. My mind is on the 24-year-old girl who died weighing 26kg after living on a polo mint a day for six months because she wanted to be thin enough to be happy and loved.
This is not what it is to be human.
To hold up this ideal for people who can never look this way, is to hold up hate. We say we want to live but we are a culture of hate worshippers and death worshippers. My mind is on a recent survey which said women would have more children if they didn't gain weight. My mind is on a recent survey that said seventy percent of people polled would give up five years of their life if they could be thinner - five years! We are literally weighing our self-esteem. Is life not worth living unless we are thin?
We were not made to be so weak.
Excerpts:
Sex Crimes, Nursery Rhymes (I)
Dark morning bus ride, Margaret and I, schoolgirls on our way to school. Girls in front, men in back. No seats in front, two girls in back. Stranger's arm outstretched. Crooked man, crooked smile, smiling while he made her cry. Finger her flesh. Touch her breast. Silenced in her fear. Scream where only such screams are heard, inside childhood tears. Little Ms Margaret sat in the backseat, dreaming her way to school. Along came a stranger. Sat down beside her. Filled her with fright and fear.
Sex Crimes, Nursery Rhymes (II)
Rockabye baby on the treetop. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. Rock, rock, horror, shock, an uncle shouldn't touch so fondly. No words to describe this feel-good fear. Ssshh...I'll kill your mum and dad if you tell anybody! Daddy, sweet Daddy, come blow your horn. There's a fly in your buttermilk. There's a thief in your corn. Where's the sweet Daddy who looks after the sheep? He's oblivious to uncle. He's fast asleep. Those who should protect her become her attacker.
Building A Rape Culture
After I was raped, it was a cold place. My perpetrator left me there alone with time to think, with time to doubt, "Had I asked for it?" It's not safe for a girl to be out on her own in a dark, deserted place. "Yes, I had asked for it." Only in CRIMES AGAINST WOMEN must the VICTIM be BLAMED. That's what a girl gets for dressing up like that, not wearing a bra, staying out late at night by herself in a lonely place. There are things that a GIRL MUST LEARN to FEAR. And yes, let's accept that BOYS WILL BE BOYS.
//
The next excerpt is from a dramatised narrative concerning Popular Culture, Hyperreality and Identity, initially performed in conjunction with the As It Is exhibition.
A Culture Of Hate. A Culture Of Death.
Whether we walk or ride through the city, every step of the way, we are told that we are just not good enough - not tall enough, not thin enough, not fit enough, not young enough, not fair enough, not hairless enough, not beautiful enough. Not, not, not good enough. The oppressor says we are not good enough and we believe it. We relinquish our power to those who want to annihilate us. We buy into a value system that isn't ours, ashamed and in denial of ourselves. This abuse steals our capacity to love and be loved. We internalise the abuse and become so full of self-hatred, self-loathing! Waking up every morning, looking in the mirror and all we see are the spots and pimples that must be removed - a flawless complexion is all that matters. Waking in the morning hating our thighs, hips, nose, eyes, lips, teeth, hair, weight, height... WE HATE! WE HATE! WE HATE! What kind of culture is this where we cannot love how we look? What kind of culture is this which breeds misery, depression and dissatisfaction? What kind of culture is this where we are not allowed to age!
We are not poor imitations of fashion photographs. Fashion photographs are poor imitations of real people. When you take a fabricated and glossed-over individual and hold this individual up as an ideal, you are holding up death. My mind is on the 24-year-old girl who died weighing 26kg after living on a polo mint a day for six months because she wanted to be thin enough to be happy and loved.
This is not what it is to be human.
To hold up this ideal for people who can never look this way, is to hold up hate. We say we want to live but we are a culture of hate worshippers and death worshippers. My mind is on a recent survey which said women would have more children if they didn't gain weight. My mind is on a recent survey that said seventy percent of people polled would give up five years of their life if they could be thinner - five years! We are literally weighing our self-esteem. Is life not worth living unless we are thin?
We were not made to be so weak.
Copyright 2016 Geraldine Schubert