A Crash Course on Abramović


Abramović is a performance artist that’s been around for long enough to call herself the “grandmother of performance art.” When she first started out, her performances were a form of denouncement of the culture she grew up in, but she stuck with her chosen art form, and her work evolved to contain much more meaning than simple rebellion. Driven by her search for spiritual and psychological enlightenment, to find the connection and difference between the body and the mind, she has pushed her performances so far that she admits to being changed by them.
One of Abramović’s most well-known pieces is Rhythm 0. It was a performance piece performed in front of an audience, rather than recorded and displayed later, in which the audience was an active participant in the performance. Marina Abramović remained still and passive for 6 hours while the audience was invited to act upon her using any of the 72 objects that were laid out nearby—some harmless, some lethal. The audience started off interacting with Abramović timidly, but in time progressed to aggression, leaving the artist in pain and feeling violated.
This is likely one of the most powerful pieces I've ever heard of. It fascinates me, and yet scares me so much that I do not think that I would have wanted to be present during the performance. There’s so much it says about human nature, about the curiosity aspect of it. First, that a human would willingly endure such violation and humiliation for the sake of art is astounding. There was no concrete benefit to Abramović toughing it out: she was not tangibly rewarded for it, she did not do it to save her life, or to save anyone else’s life. She did it solely to push boundaries in order to satisfy her curiosity and make a statement. Then there’s the behavior of the audience to discuss—the curiosity that would cause them to begin to interact with her—a brazen, impassive, and foreboding figure—to begin with. The curiosity that would cause them to go to extremes to provoke her—to toe the boundary much the same way she was, but with potentially much more harmful results. The most powerful thing about this piece is that it brings up questions. Did the audience feel free to harm her because they dehumanized her in their minds due to her not fighting back? Or did they harm her because of a childish anger in response to her dehumanizing herself—out of frustration with not getting any validation or feedback from her? 
Another impactful piece was her collaboration with Ulay to make “AAA-AAA”, a performance piece in which the two of them speak “Aaa-” at each other for as long as they can until they need to take in more air. They progressively get louder and closer to each other, until they are yelling and screaming the same sound into each other’s mouths. Watching that single video is more exhausting than running around museums all day. It might not make your legs ache, but for anyone that is sucked into empathizing with all of the emotions and subtleties and displays of dominance in the video, it’s emotionally draining. It’s a video that speaks of things that probably should be in psychology textbooks, but isn’t. That scientific aspect, that experimentation, melded together with all the emotions it produces, is what makes it so incredible.
Interview “Marina Abramović” by Karlyn De Jong and Sarah Gold accessed through the Art Full Text database.

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