★★★★☆
In the 1970s, Marina Abramović made headlines around the world with Rhythm 0, a six-hour endurance art performance, in which she stood still while the audience was invited to do to her whatever they wished, using one of over 70 objects she had placed on a table. Now in her 70s, Marina has embarked on her largest, most ambitious work to date, with 13 visceral scenes and a cast of over 70: Balkan Erotic Epic.
A our-hour ritual where ancient myth meets performance art, Balkan Erotic Epic explores the eroticism, spirituality and traditions of Abramović’s homeland. It is a progressive, feminist reclamation of the human body and sexuality. In the 1970s, Second-wave feminists, such as Gloria Steinam, spoke about the differences between pornography and erotica. Balkan Erotic Epic boldly confronts the pornographic portrayals of sexuality that we have become accustomed to, in what I would describe, perhaps paradoxically, as elegant eroticism. It is a fierce reclamation of the body and sex that feels bold, risqué and provocative, but not gratuitous.
The experience opened with John McGrath, Artistic Director and Chief Executive of Factory International, and Marina, herself, welcoming the audience. Marina – dressed in traditional Balkan attire, right down to a headscarf – told us, candidly, “I’ve literally performed close to 60 years of my life; I’ve never been more nervous in my entire life than tonight. Why? I’m presenting you literally my guts, my heart, my biography. Everything I knew and learned about performance and the history of where I come from. I come from Slavic culture. I am Balkan, as you see. Very Balkan.”
Silent performers, carrying instruments, escorted us to The Warehouse, with volunteers ensuring that our phones were locked away in pouches, to protect the dignity of the performers, who had not consented to being filmed. Not only did the strict no-phones rule protect the performers; it also enhanced the immersive atmosphere. Ordinarily, audiences, myself included, would be filming everything around us, and thus not truly taking it in. Instead, we were forced to fully immerse ourselves into the dreamlike world that Marina has created. It still felt voyeuristic, sure, but less so than if we were filming the performers. The performers, instead, were very much in command of this ceremony; we were their guests.
The Warehouse – a space so versatile that it is often unrecognisable – is transformed into a labyrinthine Balkan village. The opening scene does not involve nudity, but as soon as you turn the corner, you are confronted with humongous penises, naked men humping the grass, and women in traditional Balkan attire (save for headscarves made out of a material that resembled spandex) flashing their private parts. This gender reversal, in which female sexuality is portrayed as aggressive and male sexuality is seen as passive, sets the (subversive) tone for the piece.
The erotica hits you in the face. I felt uncomfortable for quite awhile, and I can’t say that I ever got used to it, but I certainly became desensitised and stopped awkwardly giggling or staring in shock. I did, however, leave for quite some time, as the experience can feel overwhelming, overstimulating and intense.
Whilst the piece consists of individual scenes, the performers eventually, subtly, direct the audience into specific areas for sensational spectacles. Not everybody will be able to endure a four-hour experience but it is worth sticking around for the more obviously choreographed scenes after 10pm (I took like a 90-minute break but made sure to return for 10).
There are some nods to some of Marina’s past works, which feels like a celebration of her incredible career, but they are re-fashioned and reinterpreted. Balkan Erotic Epic is not only built on Balkan cultural, spiritual and sexual history but also Marina’s own career history.
Not everybody is nude. The piece is as much about Marina’s Balkan roots and spiritualism as it is eroticism, but it also smoothly combines all of those things. It’s a piece about life and death, and how sex comes into that. It has a lot to say, and nobody will understand all of it, but not everything needs to be understood; things can also be interpreted – and they can be interpreted differently. Indeed, most people will have their own interpretations, which the death of the author allows for, especially in something so avant-garde.
That said, without the accompanying programme (which most people will not buy), the audience are unlikely to understand the many of the basics. For instance, why are women flashing their vaginas and shouting at the sky?
Furthermore, Abramović aims to normalise and demistify these exotic rituals but turning them into spectacles arguably has the adverse effect; these very real practices become works of art. Balkan Erotic Epic is ostensibly, and artistically, anarchic and rebellious, yet ironically out of reach for many people, not only because of the inaccessible ticket price but also because some visitors will find the experience itself to be alienatingly avant-garde.
The incredible creative team includes Georgine Maria-Magdalena Balk (Associate Director), Blenard Azizaj (Choreographer), Billy Zhao (Durational Performance Director), Nabil Elderkin (Film Director), Marko Nikodijević (Composer), Luka Kozlovački (Composer/ Sound Designer), Urs Schonebaum (Lighting Designer), Anna Schöttl (Set Designer), and Roksanda llinčić (Costume Designer) – under the leadership of the trailblazer that is Marina Abramović, who has assembled some of the best in the business. Every single detail has been meticulously thought out in 13 scenes over four hours.
Balkan Erotic Epic might not appeal to everybody, but it is undeniably one of the most ambitious, innovative and unique works ever created, informed by almost six decades of experimental performance art and centuries of eroticism, spiritualism and mythology.
Marina Abramović: Balkan Erotic Epic runs at Aviva Studios (The Social and The Warehouse) until October 19.
Photo: Marco Anelli ©
JADAR 