to and fro

to be sure to attend some of the performances

as part of 'to and fro' at artspace this month.

as part of her exhibition, curatorial assistant amelia hitchcock

has brought together a troupe of various artists

to converse in one way or another, drink coffee and

use artspace as a sort of watering-hole / laboratory for performance.

see here for a schedule, or sign up to the mailing list

to be notified of when performances will take place

v

'to and fro'

hana aoake, darcell apelu, audrey baldwin, julia croucher,

sean curham, virginia kennard, zahra killeen-chance, val smith, alexa wilson

11 july - august 23

artspace

curated by amelia hitchcock

short-sharp-change (finger snap)

rather radical artist talk today

starring two lovelies

caterina riva & alicia frankovich.

do come to the performance tomorrow!

alicia frankovich 'floor resistance' and 'bison'

sunday 5 august 11.30

auckland art gallery, level 2

the walters prize 2012

v

hard, then soft

“since I’ve been boxing I think I have become more aggressive,

confident and classically masculine”

out in the cold, on a gravel-gridded roof in central auckland, three men enacted a triptych of testosterone, submitting themselves to a gruelling routine, rotating between sets of skipping, press-ups, sit-ups and miscellaneous forms of physical exercise. each action demonstrated a rigid, masochistic and narcissistic athleticism. these acts were punctuated by an air horn and alternated with olfactory equivalents ritualistically applied. lynx spray deodorant, old-spice smelling talcum powder, hairspray, ice, hair gel and sweat, they all contributed to the smell of men.

though beloved of boxers around the world, the art of skipping complicates matters, though masculine it is also quintessentially girlish. josh rutter and his performers embrace this contradiction and it then forms the crux of this piece. by exerting themselves, by skipping, at first conscientiously, then manically, then dreamily they playfully pull apart predominant assumptions about masculinity.

rutter’s extended cast of butterfly-dream-boys create synthetic rites and hybrid ceremonies that fluidly navigate between primal, bestial becoming-animal to graceful, joyous and unabashed exuberance. besides athleticism and virtuosity there was flesh gone soft with neglect or wiry with age. bleeding before us, rutter’s men demonstrated camaraderie, tournaments, slap games, a packing-tape duel… a gestus that was a silent scream through a mask of shaving foam… a playful wrestle became the act of crying upon a mate’s shoulder.

there were great ejaculations of energy drinks, there was a sculling back of swappas, there was the sharp scent that is the burn of scuffed sneaker rubber. folk-masculine-pseudo-liturgies took place manifesting yearning. transcendence was sought in a large ruck and in upwards clutching gestures, a grasping for respect, understanding, love, god or perhaps a rugby ball. here choreographer became ref, coach or dj. at one point the dishevelled tribe were assimilated into white-boy shuffles beneath strobe lights, sometimes battling each other for supremacy.

after erecting a giant plastic phallus, rutter’s boys crawled inside it like retrogressive sperm, chanting, howling, hooting, then sinking down, post-coital, spent, curled within what resembled a flaccid used condom. it felt as though a new masculinity had been realised. it looked like bloody hard work, but it was wonderful.

josh rutter

'dance like a butterfly dream boy'

february 22-23

new performance festival

aotea centre, auckland

paper cuts

 "if he thought about it at all, but I don't believe

he ever thought, it was that he and his shadow, when

brought near each other, would join like drops of

water; and when they did not he was appalled"

- from 'peter pan' by j.m. barrie

blinking and playful, an industrious black and white projection of fleur elise noble appears to open and close doors. she scrubs screens clean with a broom, drinks wine and manages to inhabit a multitude of scenes projected upon very large pieces of paper.

beginning with blankness or blackness noble proceeds to construct a series of charming mini-narratives and episodes with the aid of multiple digital projections. there were two very large, cinema-type screens of paper, one was placed upon an easel, another was shaped like a figure. torn and angular papers scattered upon the stage floor also caught the light and projections so that they all flickered alive. paper folded and unfolded, screens shifted and fell in an attempt to catch up with noble’s various actions and exploits.

the pursuit or chase ribboned throughout the performance and here multiple screens and surfaces allowed for multiple avenues of escape. noble pursued a paper-cut-out version of herself and evaded an army of stern-faced puppets attempting to puppeteer her. the projected and stop-animated puppets formed an eccentric family, a comedic chorus of antagonists. doubles and shadows flickered, appearing and disappearing.

despite their intentions to foil noble’s best-laid plans the puppets were no match for the omnipotence of the author/artist. throughout the performance noble flawlessly commingled drawing, silent-film, stop-animation, live-action and recorded sounds. all interacted seamlessly with animate and papery set design. most disconcerting of all, noble manipulates depth and surface, her black and white projections distort perspective so that one is forced to surrender oneself entirely to a bewildering encounter of actual, cinematic, pictorial and theatrical space until it is difficult to know where each begins and ends. this is compounded by noble’s multiple entrances and exits, the slamming of doors and the echo of her heavy bow-legged footfall.

self-reflexively, noble is unafraid of stopping and starting scene within scene, bookending each with heavy black scribbling, the screwing up of paper,  a direct apology to the audience, a tearing up of supports or even conflagration.

fleur elise noble

'two dimensional life of her'

february 17-21

new performance festival

aotea centre, auckland 

too much like hard work (or office poetics)

let’s work this through. let’s work it out.

as workers not dreamers, businessmen and entrepreneurs serving the economy, mark harvey and johannes blomqvist try to be productive with their bodies. sacrificing themselves in order to create a sell-able, compelling and entertaining product for their audience they posit themselves as artists who provide a creative service.

politely choreographing their audience members, harvey and blomqvist directed the systematic erection and removal of tables and chairs as well as the mass creation of confetti via a method of punching holes from paper programmes. jolly and carnivalesque, the entire evening had the feeling of a deranged corporate team-building event and this was heightened by its location within a conference room.

deftly manipulating the materiality of the office as props, harvey and blomqvist work with tables, chairs, plastic cups, swipe cards, hole-punches, piles of paper… the relentless gathering, meeting and dispersal of colleagues was enacted, a quotidian waltz to be iterated within organisations throughout the world ad infinitum. there is the exchange of personal and professional information, sometimes under duress. there is bone-chilling air-conditioning, there is relentless fluorescent lighting. there are also exuberant and surprising moments of poetry such as softly-falling snow wrested from paper confetti and the sound of thousands of white plastic cups tumbling to the floor.

the daily demands and pressures of working as an artist were made explicit and physical. a risky business, a sisyphean labour, working under immense pressure to maintain a viable practice as a performance artist is compared to repeatedly running backwards around a large pillar, trying to crawl across a busy room with a rotund swede lying on your back, being literally buried under a mountain of paper or remaining strong as a co-worker stacks scores of chairs upon your back with packing tape. the only respite is a well-earned coffee break courtesy of blomqvist who explains the etiquette of such rituals in sweden. this ceremony starts off as cheery and then becomes manic.

a lot of exertion was involved. there were sweat-soaked business shirts. harvey and blomqvist work very hard. they deserve a round of applause.

 mark harvey and johannes blomqvist

"i am a wee bit stumped"

february 18

new performance festival

aotea centre, auckland