I will candidly admit that I am not an avid follower of performance art. So at the opening reception for “From Cosmology to Neurology and Back Again” at Whitespace in historic Inman Park, I ultimately planned to leave prior to the performance piece touted as the highlight of the evening. After browsing some truly engaging prints from artists such as Sienna Reilly and Marcia Vaitsman, then conversing with some other peers from SCAD, it was time for me to leave.
The moment for my exit, however, coincided with the performance piece and suddenly I found myself boxed in by the crowd, unable to leave without rudely pushing through and disturbing other patrons. I stayed, as a result. What followed did not appear particularly profound: just a tiny woman intent on meticulously creating a large mess in front of spectators. Far more engaging to me was the pair of young ladies next to me making completely unrelated comments concerning the sound of a trickle of water in the fountain near where we stood. One made a miserable attempt to quiet it and the three of us laughed silently. Then something hit me. Quite literally, actually; a clove of garlic flung directly at me by the performance artist herself that hit me in the shoulder.
It was impossible for her to hear me because our laughter was truly silent. I also doubted that she saw me because she was not tall enough to see me in the back. It occurred to me that maybe she “felt” my laughter. Then something hit me. This time, figuratively; I have read enough fantasy novels to identify a person conjuring a ward when I see it and been to New Orleans enough times to recognize a little voodoo.
That is precisely what she was doing. After that, I watched a little more closely. Sissi Fonseca, the internationally exhibited performance artist, continued to build her wards and work her voodoo, even engaging others in the Whitespace crowd. More than once throughout her performance, she made eye contact with me specifically and tossed more items directly to me for protection.
As before, I stand by my statement that I do not avidly follow performance art and my general feeling after seeing it was one of amused confusion. Clearly, though, she made her art accessible to all who were around. She did not just do it for us, she did it with us as well. We were all a part. It culminated with her being doused in water, bucket by bucket. I noted that she calmly embraced it and found it intriguing that the audience partook in such a critical moment of the performance.
Afterwards, I had many very engaging conversations about it with people around, something that the intimate environment at Whitespace facilitates so easily. I had the pleasure of conversing with other artists such as Yun Bai, whose work I found personally inspiring even before meeting her. We all walked away with different opinions. Importantly, though, we all had opinions about it and none of those opinions was lukewarm. Many would consider that simple fact the criteria for successful art, since it is entirely unrealistic to please everyone but it can surely get people talking.
