Considering Image: Performativity, Aesthetic and the Documentary Process

Vason, M. (2013) ‘Collaborative Actions #1’. [electronic print] Available at: http://lncn.eu/dkx4 [Accessed 28 February 2014].

Vason, M. (2013) ‘Collaborative Actions #1’. [electronic print] Available at: http://lncn.eu/dkx4 [Accessed 28 February 2014].

“On top of these possible points of convergence, performing arts and photography share a conceptual apparatus in which terms such as theatricality, performativity, representation and visuality [sic] function as important points of reference.”(Vanhaesebrouck, 2009, 98)

For the purposes of this article, ‘photography‘ should be understood as relating to performance photography solely, rather than photographic practise in general.

The capturing of a photographic image during the documentary research process involved in site-specific performance is an interesting process to study. Since our first outings to the Grandstand, our experience of the site has been largely mediated by the confines of the camera viewfinder or screen, our interaction with the site framed through the production of visual images. With the production of aesthetic documents being such a central part to the interactive process between student and site, it is interesting to consider the ways in which photography and performance intersect and interact with one another.

At what point does the photographic image irrevocably fuse with the performative act or site? Karel Vanhaesebrouck’s study into the use of photography in performance identifies how “photography has always held a tense relation with theatre practice, […] contaminating each other in a permanent and systematic way” (Vanhaesebrouck, 2009, 97) and how photography can “serve as dramaturgical matière brute, or it can be utterly performative in its own right” (Ibid., 98).

There is a strong academic argument behind the idea that performance photography and the performance act are interwoven, that “theatre photography is an integral part of the signification process which is at the very heart of performance studies” (Ibid., 97). The performance act relies on a system of signification, utilised by the performer to translate meaning to the audience, a term taken very loosely here not to mean just the live spectator of a performance, but also the viewer of a photograph or the inhabitant of a performance site. To this extent, the peritextual documentation surrounding this performance – the flyer, trailer, programme, newspaper interviews, reviews and, naturally, the production photography – can only be considered part of the signification process of that piece of performance art, due to the fact that each of them are involved in giving meaning to an audience about that performance. To this extent, performance and photography cannot be isolated as separate elements; instead, the two make up a dialogic activity, in which “performance – even if it is a performance in the strict sense of the word, namely that of performance art – is mediated by means of film or photography” (Ibid., 104). Joseph Beuys’ performance I Like America and America Likes Me (1974) was made up not only by the performance itself, but also the extra-performative elements – “the preparations, the flight to New York and back, transport in an ambulance from the airport to the gallery” (Ibid, 104) – which were all documented through photography, a clear example of the way in which performance and photography interact at a basic level to create one piece of work. The photographic documentation of a performance can be seen as an equally valid part as the set, costume or actor, in itself valuable to the signification process of that piece of work.

However, one can also see photography as being in itself a performance act. If we agree that “one cannot consider theatre photography […] to be a direct residue of an event that disappeared from the moment it was acted out” (Ibid., 100) then we accept the fact that performance photography can never truly capture the performance in all its detail; photography fails to capture the complex temporal and spacial rhythms of not only the performance, but also the interactions of audience and passers-by with the performance, technical elements and the site itself. Paul Simpson’s study of the space-times of street performance identifies this, stating that “an image or series of images cannot necessarily fully capture or evoke such rhythms and their qualities.” (Simpson, 2012, 425) Therefore, images of performance have to be to some extent considered to be their own sub-form, trapped between independence from and reliance upon the performance act. Melissa Heer calls this separate form the “photo-performance project” (Heer, 2012, 538). The performance photograph can be seen as interdependent upon the performance itself, but cannot present unadulteratedly the exact experience of that performance: the performance captured in the image becomes something distinct and different, through the act of capturing and processing the image. The photograph is in itself a performance site, a stage for the “continuous play between illusionistic realism and self-reflexive artifice” (Ibid., 538) of performance. Manuel Vason, whose photography seeks to “bridge photography and performance” (Vason, n.d.) is a notable artist within this area, his work “largely transcending the exclusively documentary” (Vanhaesebrouck, 2009, 105), establishing a form which is “photography as an autonomous performative practice” (Ibid., 105). When viewed in such a manner, the performance or site captured within a photographic image can be seen as its own distinct space, and certainly as a separate artistic enterprise, rather than just an aesthetic representation of the original thing photographed.

Photography, therefore, can be seen in two lights with relation to photography:

  1. As an unisolable part of the performance act, part of a continuous process of dialogue whereby the performance act informs the photographic image, and vice-versa; or,
  2. As a separate ‘space’ or ‘site’ from the live performance, unable to fully recreate the true conditions of the live act, and as such a separate or distinct space.

To relate these two conclusions to site-specific performance practice, the images produced during the exploratory developmental process of the work can be seen as either an intrinsic part of that work, in which the two are so bound up that the whole piece can never be captured by an audience member without an intimate knowledge of both the final work and its photographic contextual documentation; or as separate spaces or sites altogether, the site and site-specific performance within the image fundamentally different to the live art experience.

Having had our experience of the Grandstand so far largely documented and mediated through the use of photography, I find it personally interesting and enlightening to consider the way in which, when taking those photographs, we are engaging in a process of creation and documentation which is involved directly in the cycle of signification along with the site itself and the work we create there. I have specifically avoided uploading images I have taken of the Grandstand within this article, as I feel their inclusion may in some ways divert attention from the complex argument being made here. However, in creating images of the site throughout the rest of the process, it is important that we each consider the artistic responsibility we have to the site and to our work when creating photographs which will ultimately inform and affect what we do.

 

References:

Heer, M. (2012) Restaging Time: Photography, Performance and Anachronism in Shadi Ghadirian’s Qajar Series. Iranian Studies, 45(4) 537-548.

Simpson, P. (2012) Apprehending everyday rhythms: rhythmanalysis, time-lapse photography, and the space-times of street performance. Cultural Geographies, 19(4) 423-445.

Vanhaesebrouck, K. (2009) Theatre, performance studies and photography: a history of permanent contamination. Visual Studies, 24(2) 97-106.

Vason, M. (n.d.) Artist Statement – Manuel Vason. [online] London: Manuel Vason Studio. Available from: http://www.manuelvason.com/artist-statement/ [Accessed 28 February 2014].

A Letter to the Grandstand – Making a personal connection with the site.

Following a very insightful visit to the Lincolnshire archives, in our workshop at the site we were asked to write a letter to the grandstand, this was to be informal and the purpose of the task was to make a personal connection with the site. Here is my letter;

 

Dear Grandstand,

Yesterday, I looked into your past at the Lincoln archives. Fascinated bu the depth of your history it reinforced the sadness I felt of your abandonment in the present day.

In particular, the event that took place during the first World War, in which the 1000th plane made by Ruston Works, dropped 5000 leaflets to advertise war bonds in order to help the government raise funds. This was so successful a second drop took place in March.

Furthermore, the plans showing the space that is now used as a community centre, then to be proposed to be a mortuary was interesting yet creepy. What stood out to me was the ‘Sluicing’ room which first was miss-read as slicing! Still the potential of bodies being washed down in an area where children now play was quite harrowing. The crossing of life and death. 

Yours Sincerely,

Verity. 

Although the task at first seemed strange, the letter seemed to flow easily. Yet again from my own personal letter and others within the group, the phenomenological responses struck the hardest. Feelings of loss, neglect, sadness and abandonment echoed through the room as we carried out further tasks.

Indeed, I think the task did help to make a personal connection to the site, a site which to some of us in the group was meaningless. Hopefully we can develop the connection further whilst creating pieces in the space.

Dear Grandstand- Short and Sweet

‘Places do not have locations, but histories’ (Ingold, 2000, p. 219) in (Pearson, 2010, p. 16)

Dear Grandstand

When visiting the Lincolnshire Archives yesterday, I learnt a lot more about your history. We had made presumptions before but not we all know a lot more factual information about your past now. I’ve always been interested in the Latin phrases within your structure and yesterday allowed me to understand, translate and symbolise these phrases exactly. I feel these phrases and their translations to do with your contributions to the W-Wars hold a lot of character within you, holding together a few little parts that make you seem alive.

From Sam.

References

Ingold, T (2000) The Perception of the Environment: Essays on Livelihood, Dwelling and Skill. London: Rouledge in Pearson, M (2010) Site Specific Performance. London: Palgrave Macmillian.

A Letter to the Grandstand.

Dear Grandstand,

Yesterday, at the archives, I saw a lot of your history.  I saw plans for you, I saw what you could have been.  Then I learned about the expo of ’69 and I thought about how brilliant it was that you got to be part of something like that (after all why would I be learning about it if it wasn’t to do with you).  After closer inspection of the map of the expo and reading the articles, I discovered that you actually weren’t part of it.

Lucky you, being part of the West Common, getting to look at all the fun that could be had.  But you weren’t part of it were you, Grandstand?  Ever since they stopped the races all you have been is a sequence of plans and what ifs.  At least if you had been used as a mortuary you would have served a purpose.

So back to the expo, with all its wonder, and colour, and fun – did it make you sad?  Did it make you realise how insignificant you are?

Yours Sincerely,

Katherine Copley.

The final race day ever! (in Lincoln)

Visiting the Archive today we stumbled across two of the three racing bet cards for the last ever event held under rules.  Monday and Wednesday 16th-18th of March 1964. I found it fascinating that on the day of the event most of the customers would have brought one of these for a mere one shilling when today I’m looking at it as a link to history.

As I have already been intrigued by the idea of before and after I felt I should get as many details from the betting card as possible, the times of the races, amount of horses per race, anything that would give an impression of what it would be like to be there. If it becomes clear later that I can utilise this information e.g. having a performance that lasts from 1:50 -4:15 to represent what seemed to be a typical day at the grandstand back when it was active.

I’m now starting to really like the idea of making the audience of our piece experience the last event at the grandstand through us. Representing the information we found in a way that is both interactive and aesthetically pleasing.