Performance artists’ bodies, minds go to extreme with art
genres, self-mutilation
By Nisha Gopalan
Paints, pencils and plaster are generally assumed to be the
tools of the traditional artist.
However, the principal material of performance art  a
genre that transcends the bounds of classical art  involves
the expression of the human body.
"Although this might be shocking and highly unconventional,"
says UCLA assistant sociology professor Dr. Steven Clayman, "if you
think about modern art generally, perhaps it’s just another step in
the evolution of modern art, another way in which enterprising
artists can find ways of violating expectations, violating societal
conventions and especially violating conventional understandings
about what art might consist of."
The recent emergence of performance art does not signify a
phenomenon, but rather, an art movement.
The self-mutilation approach (see related stories) merely
signifies one segment of performance art.
The existence of the new genres major in the UCLA School of Art,
which studies forms of art beyond painting, sculpture, pure
photography and printmaking, reiterates the growth of the art
world’s acceptance of unconventional art forms.
While not all new genres majors choose to pursue performance
art, or said mutilation performance art for that matter, the
success of the new genres major indicates the art community’s
increasing willingness to legitimize all forms of art.
Henry Hopkins, chair of the UCLA art department, somewhat
confirms Clayman’s speculation.
"People have raised that question (about the legitimacy of art)
about everything from Van Gogh to Gauguin," says Hopkins. "It is a
means of individual expression for a purpose that falls under the
general category of art."
"A lot of the artists function outside the arenas of organized
religion," adds Hopkins. "But I do think many of them have a
spiritual intent by virtue of creating a situation to make people
aware of certain inequities in the world."
This movement exists worldwide, with other well-known
self-mutilating performance artists, or more accurately put, "body
artists."
French artist Orlan represents one of the most famous body
artists. In 1990, she embarked upon an epic performance piece, in
which, through seven installations of plastic surgery, she
transformed her features, one by one, into those of idealized
feminine beauty  for example, the forehead of the Mona Lisa
who represents androgyny, the chin of Botticelli’s Venus who
symbolizes fertility and the eyes of Gerome’s Psyche, who
emphasizes spirituality. Each operation represents a performance
piece in itself, supplemented with props, costumes, music, dance
and Orlan, under local anesthesia, reciting her texts.
In the United States, however, Los Angeles’ Ron Athey
represents, perhaps, the best known body artist. The HIV-positive
Athey stirred audiences as well as the National Endowment for the
Arts in 1991 when, using a surgical scalpel, he carved a tribal
ritual on another artist. Athey blotted the blood design on a paper
towel and hung that work at least eight feet over the audience.
Athey also performed acts of acupuncture on himself, which alluded
to the images of Saint Sebastion, and performed other ornate
cuttings, the act being inspired by African traditions.
Despite the growing acceptance of body art as a legitimate means
of performance art, these artists’ works still spark sensationalism
and even disapproval within some factions of the art community and
society, as demonstrated by the uproar heard after Athey’s 1991
performance.
Dr. Linda Goodman, UCLA clinical psychology assistant professor
and a visiting professor in the UCLA dance department, says that
one cannot hastily deem these performance artists mentally
unstable.
"I don’t know the artists. I don’t know about their lives,"
Goodman says. "I would want to know if this behavior, that is, the
self mutilative art, got in the way of their ability to have and
maintain social relationships and to pursue meaningful lives."
"So, when we speak of unhealthy behavior, I don’t assume that
what defines unhealthy is behavior, per se," continues Goodman. "I
think it would be very important to take into consideration a
person’s life and cultural context."
When asked if body art represents an averse emotional reaction,
Goodman responds that the question may represent a philosophical,
rather than psychological question.
Therein, she sheds light on the possible source of one’s
reservations about this type of art.
"If there’s a dimension of asking if an artist ought to express
him or herself in such a way, this, actually, is a moral
question."