<div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr">Hello all,<br><br>I wanted to take Renate up on her request that we readers respond to—and process publicly, possibly collectively—how these artists, such powerful thinkers, feelers, makers, through their individual and intertextual bodies of work and, now, by way of their deaths and the mourning that death engenders, have impacted, influenced, re/shaped, re/constructed our own thinking, research, practice, dreaming. I’ve been reading each week, as these post notifications rattle my phone—a visceral feedback marking each next layer of thought, provoking contemplation and even a bit of trauma (i’ll get to that in a moment), sometimes at inconvenient hours, sometimes, by coincidence, during remarkably apt or poignant moments. Mulling but not chiming in, yet, because I wanted to see where others took these conversations; with a lull, as week 3 drifts into week 4, I thought I’d share now: <br><br>Much has been said about how Hammer, Schneemann, Varda, Quintanilla (whose work I did not know prior; thank you for the introduction), and others noted throughout the conversation, thus far, are significant for their focus on the body, each in different ways but each positioning the body as site for inquiry, exploration, meditation—also, for critique of power, culture, control. Terms/concepts like biopower, necropolitics, de/colonization, violence, gaze, affect, the abject swirl through possible responses to their works—but also, and no less weighty, empathy, beauty, visibility, wellness, compassion, pride, love, desire, joy. <br><br>I have a particularly personal and complicated tangent to Hammer, specifically, and to the themes and conditions embodied by each of these artists’ work. In Nov 2014, I met Barbara (only once, unfortunately) on a panel (to “explore relationships between documentary, the body, and performance…”) at the Codes+Modes conference at Hunter College. She presented on, among other things, “What You Are Not Supposed To Look At” (a bit about the work here: <a href="http://www.artcritical.com/2018/01/19/rebecca-allan-on-barbara-hammer/">http://www.artcritical.com/2018/01/19/rebecca-allan-on-barbara-hammer/</a>) and spoke about a range of points: bodies, illness, death, life, art, hope, more. My work, at that moment, was focused on waterways as media networks, a “hydrology of media;” canals, rivers, lakes, sewers, oceans as bodies, as media ecologies, as extensions of the human sensorium; toxins as archives of cultural production; uneven development as environmental injustice. My messy performative/documentary/subject/object/research/spatial/embodied practice regularly placed my body within toxic spaces, positioning, as with the works of so many artists and authors before me—Hammer, et al, especially, but also Ukeles, Denes, Rahmani, Rainer, Rosler, High, Solnit, Lippard, Lacy—the body as site for investigation of culture at the macro- and micro-scale; the/my subject(ivity) as object of research. It was a compelling experience and conversation, both with the panel and responses/questions from the audience—among the better conference/panel discussions I’ve been a part of.<br><br>What complicates that otherwise auspicious interaction is that, a month later, my body tried to die. Like, really, really tried to die. An emergent aortic dissection, eight hours of cardiac surgery, extremely slim odds of survival—and yet I did live. Mostly. It’s complicated. And this is where Barbara’s later work connects with me, now: her involvement, these past few years, with the death-with-dignity, right-to-die movement. Tackling "quality of life" over mere survival. It’s a component of wellness, of aging, of palliative care that can be disturbing even to those who fully support it. It hits deep, into roots of existential angst, but also embraces acceptance--radical acceptance, to use a phrase from wellness and mental health care. <br><br>For me, personally, the issue of quality of life, of survival, of dignity, of (self)care is further complicated by the ambiguity of what it means to be "healthy." It is generally assumed, when someone tells a story of intense trauma, injury, loss, survival, that an appropriate response is to say “you’re lucky to be alive!” I don’t begrudge people who jump to this reaction—in fact, I tend to do the same when assessing others’ conditions and situations. But as complicated as death is, survival is also complex, especially when the trauma of survival triggers layers, waves, webs of mental and emotional (collateral) damage. Pain, guilt, anxiety, depression, diminution, limitation, shame, resentment, anger, rage—these are not the qualities anyone wishes upon you when they use the word “lucky,” but they are qualities all too connected to trauma, injury, and loss, nonetheless. I am still working through what “survival” means, what “living” means, what “privilege” means, what “lucky” means, especially during an era of such dire destruction and teetering mass extinction. Artists like those we are celebrating on empyre this month continue to challenge my thoughts on and responses to these complexities.<br><br>Hammer, for instance, her bravery throughout her life and in the face of death, is remarkable, moving, inspiring, and, also, curious. I wish I could have had a conversation with her later, after my experiences, to discuss what “bravery,” in this regard, meant to her. In fact, she and Varda and Schneemann enter a personal sort of pantheon of mine, along with Barbara DeGenevieve (photographer, shit-stirrer, my former advisor at SAIC, friend; <a href="https://cargocollective.com/degenevieve/About">https://cargocollective.com/degenevieve/About</a>), Dara Greenwald (speaking of brave…activist, artist, inspiring and funny as hell; <a href="https://www.daragreenwald.com/">https://www.daragreenwald.com/</a>), and so many others whose absences from this world I mourn regularly on a visceral level—even as I struggle with my own presence. So it goes.<br><br>Thank you, Renate, for providing this forum for our collective consideration. This month, especially, has resonated deeply with me. Thank you, as well, to Josasia, Tim, Ana, Constanza, Rachel, Lynne, and others, thus far, for your reflections. I look forward to hearing what Emily, Jessica, and Patrick might add—and I agree with Patrick and Renate regarding the importance of spaces and forums like this, for nurturing community, continuity, the ephemeral. <br><br>-paul lloyd sargent<br>Syracuse, currently,<br>by way of Buffalo, <br>by way of Brooklyn, <br>by way of Chicago, <br>by way of Las Vegas, <br>by way of Syracuse.<br>Check out how cute my dog, Walter, is: <br><a href="https://www.instagram.com/walter_rhubarb">https://www.instagram.com/walter_rhubarb</a><br></div></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_attr">On Sun, Apr 21, 2019 at 11:02 PM Renate Ferro <<a href="mailto:rferro@cornell.edu">rferro@cornell.edu</a>> wrote:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0px 0px 0px 0.8ex;border-left:1px solid rgb(204,204,204);padding-left:1ex">----------empyre- soft-skinned space----------------------<br>
Dear Rachel, <br>
What a lovely post you made on Friday and yes so reminiscent of the early days of the media landscape in upstate central New York State. I recall many artists who grew up so to say within the environment of not only media but also new music in Buffalo, Rochester, Ithaca and beyond. And I agree Barbara’s performance/lecture at the Whitney is a gem for all of us. Thanks for sharing this link about the New House awards for those with disabilities. <br>
<a href="https://www.wnewhouseawards.com/Pages/Awards.html" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">https://www.wnewhouseawards.com/Pages/Awards.html</a><br>
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It is interesting that Hammer gave us a license to openly talk about aging, sickness and working as an artist. Certainly, Cindy Sherman and Marina Abramovic have referenced aging in their work lately, but Barbara Hammer takes the issue straight on in a powerful and empowering way. The state of aging becomes more than a surface but a way to live. Grace Quintanilla was a very young woman diagnosed with a terminal illness who lived only two months or so after her diagnosis. Barbara lived with her diagnosis for a good many years so had time to work it through (if anyone does) in a way that was integrated into her life and work. I mentioned Beatrice da Costa (as did Patrick Lichty) whose research also encompassed end of life issues as she lived through her illness. <br>
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Perhaps Barbara is right. The art world but I would add the larger world around us shun these issues preferring more packaged palatable content. <br>
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But today many of us are celebrating spring, Easter, Passover and more. So to all of you—enjoy those around you and breath in the air of this changing time of weather. (For some on the other side you are entering fall—Melinda Rackam and Tarsh Bates I am thinking of you.) <br>
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Best, Renate<br>
_____________________________<br>
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Renate Ferro<br>
Visiting Associate Professor<br>
Director of Undergraduate Studies<br>
Department of Art<br>
Tjaden Hall 306<br>
<a href="mailto:rferro@cornell.edu" target="_blank">rferro@cornell.edu</a><br>
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empyre forum<br>
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<a href="http://empyre.library.cornell.edu" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">http://empyre.library.cornell.edu</a></blockquote></div>