Search results
sexually charged performance works that confronted and exposed the roots of patriarchal violence in the Yugoslav state and its dangerous vitality in the nationalist rhetoric of Yugoslavia as a whole and in its republics. Women continued to be marginalized as they had been in the 1970s, despite their extensive and generative resistance work in the alternative scenes throughout the 1980s. This chapter hones in on women's explorations of their gender power in music, avant-garde art circles, and performance art. Focusing on performance, video, and
digitally mediated performance art as a form of aesthetic machine that can generate spaces of deliberation on our role as an actant within the assemblage that constitutes the machinic city. Mediated performance art overlays artistic narratives onto urban space, which are mediated through innovative technological assemblages and that demand participation and reflection. This unusual assemblage generates performative events in urban space where stage and audience are combined. Other aesthetic machines also have the ability to generate spaces for deliberation on
and social circumstances surrounding it. 8 Her analysis of performance art in Eastern Europe echoes arguments made by Amelia Jones around that same time: that body art ‘insistently pose[s] the subject as intersubjective (contingent on the other) rather than complete within itself (the Cartesian subject who is centered and fully self-knowing in his cognition)’. 9 Consequently, interpreting these performing bodies in their context yields insights into the sociopolitical factors underlying their actions. In other words, by examining the various uses and expressions
, at 43 Shelton Street, Covent Garden. From 25 October to 1 November 1977, the gallery remained open 24 hours a day for the uninterrupted eight-day action (Figure 1.1). In its pursuit of a task-based 1.1 Kerry Trengove, An Eight Day Passage, photographs from a durational performance, The Acme Gallery, London, 25 October to 1 November 1977 32 Unlimited action activity over an alien duration, the Passage is an exemplary performance art action of the 1970s. It captured the imagination of contemporary audiences, local and national broadcast media and typifies a
There is no soundtrack is a specific yet expansive study of sound tactics deployed in experimental media art today. It analyses how audio and visual elements interact and produce meaning, drawing from works by contemporary media artists ranging from Chantal Akerman, to Nam June Paik, to Tanya Tagaq. It then links these analyses to discussions on silence, voice, noise, listening, the soundscape, and other key ideas in sound studies. In making these connections, the book argues that experimental media art – avant-garde film, video art, performance, installation, and hybrid forms – produces radical and new audio-visual relationships that challenge and destabilize the visually-dominated fields of art history, contemporary art criticism, cinema and media studies, and cultural studies as well as the larger area of the human sciences. This book directly addresses what sound studies scholar Jonathan Sterne calls ‘visual hegemony’. It joins a growing body of interdisciplinary scholarship that is collectively sonifying the study of culture while defying the lack of diversity within the field by focusing on practitioners from transnational and diverse backgrounds. Therefore, the media artists discussed in this book are of interest to scholars and students who are exploring aurality in related disciplines including gender and feminist studies, queer studies, ethnic studies, postcolonial studies, urban studies, environmental analysis, and architecture. As such, There Is No Soundtrack makes meaningful connections between previously disconnected bodies of scholarship to build new, more complex and reverberating frameworks for the study of art, media, and sound.
politics of communication as they played out in performance art from the mid-1960s onward. Minujín presented her two-part Happening at the audio-visual theatre belonging to the art centres established by the Torcuato Di Tella Institute (Instituto Torcuato Di Tella) in the ‘microcentre’ of Buenos Aires. On 13 October 1966, Minujín welcomed approximately sixty people – mainly journalists and celebrities, but also academics, a novelist and the psychoanalyst Enrique Pichon-Rivière – into a futuristic environment. 4 Television sets crowded the space, each positioned in
This book is about people willing to do the sorts of things that most others couldn't, shouldn't or wouldn't. While there are all sorts of reasons why people consume substances, the author notes that there are those who treat drug-taking like an Olympic sport, exploring their capacity to really push their bodies, and frankly, wanting to be the best at it. Extreme athletes, death-defiers and those who perform incredible stunts of endurance have been celebrated throughout history. The most successful athletes can compartmentalise, storing away worry and pain in a part of their brain so it does not interfere with their performance. The brain releases testosterone, for a boost of strength and confidence. In bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism (BDSM) play, the endogenous opioid system responds to the pain, releasing opioid peptides. It seems some of us are more wired than others to activate those ancient biological systems, be it through being caned in a dungeon during a lunchbreak or climbing a sheer rock wall at the weekend. Back in 1990, sociologist Stephen Lyng coined the term 'edgework', now frequently used in BDSM circles, as 'voluntary pursuit of activities that involve a high potential for death, physical injury, or spiritual harm'.
This book explores the development of Robert Lepage’s distinctive approach to stage direction in the early (1984–94) and middle (1995–2008) stages of his career, arguing that globalisation had a defining effect in shaping his aesthetic and professional trajectory. It combines examination of Lepage’s theatremaking techniques with discussion of his work’s effects on audiences, calling on Lepage’s own statements as well as existing scholarship and critical response. In addition to globalisation theory, the book draws on cinema studies, queer theory, and theories of affect and reception. As such, it offers an unprecedented conceptual framework, drawing together what has previously been a scattered field of research. Each of six chapters treats a particular aspect of globalisation, using this as a means to explore one or more of Lepage’s productions. These aspects include the relationship of the local (in Lepage’s case, his background in Québec) to the global; the place of individual experience within global late modernity; the effects of screen media on human perception; the particular affect of ‘feeling global’; the place of branding in contemporary creative systems; and the relationship of creative industries to neoliberal economies. Making theatre global: Robert Lepage’s original stage productions will be of interest to scholars of contemporary theatre, advanced-level undergraduates with an interest in the application of theoretical approaches to theatrical creation and reception, and arts lovers keen for new perspectives on one of the most talked-about theatre artists of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.
The archive has assumed a new significance in the history of sex, and this book visits a series of such archives, including the Kinsey Institute’s erotic art; gay masturbatory journals in the New York Public Library; the private archive of an amateur pornographer; and one man’s lifetime photographic dossier on Baltimore hustlers. The subject topics covered are wide-ranging: the art history of homoeroticism; casual sex before hooking-up; transgender; New York queer sex; masturbation; pornography; sex in the city. The duality indicated by the book’s title reflects its themes. It is an experiment in writing an American sexual history that refuses the confines of identity sexuality studies, spanning the spectrum of queer, trans, and the allegedly ‘normal’. What unites this project is a fascination with sex at the margins, refusing the classificatory frameworks of heterosexuality and homosexuality, and demonstrating gender and sexual indecision and flexibility. And the book is also an exploration of the role of the archive in such histories. The sex discussed is located both in the margins of the archives, what has been termed the counterarchive, but also, importantly, in the pockets of recorded desire located in the most traditional and respectable repositories. The sexual histories in this book are those where pornography and sexual research are indistinguishable; where personal obsession becomes tomorrow’s archive. The market is potentially extensive: those interested in American studies, sexuality studies, contemporary history, the history of sex, psychology, anthropology, sociology, gender studies, queer studies, trans studies, pornography studies, visual studies, museum studies, and media studies.
, alongside Guggi 1067 and Dave-id Busaras 1068 , he was curating a provocative and artful freak show. Friday and the band’s performance art and wonderfully weird, dislocated music was an eclectic electric shock. They were like the Diamond Dogs from Bowie’s mid-’70s sci-fi dystopia running amok in the post-punk playground of a late ‘70s Dublin, defying its claustrophobic and repressed atmosphere that they would be the key catalyst in changing. Dublin was very repressed. There was lots of unemployment