REMOTEWORDS (Achim Mohné & Uta Kopp) is a long-term art project that installs messages on roofs and, by means of virtual programs like Google Earth, gives them worldwide coverage. The messages are mounted in durable form as giant, bright letters. The site and the message are conceptually a semantic unit.
The Conspicuous Consumption of Ideas, or I love Pizza and Pizza loves me
For this piece I had to make do with a host of materials that were new to me, lightbulbs, a blanket, a chair, a brick, a nail. I began my performance nestled beneath the pink christmas tree blanket, on the chair, and at the end of a long line of 120 volt lightbulbs. I then plugged in a number of the lightbulbs and broke them, one by one, as I stood up, paced about the courtyard, and revealed myself to my audience by peering through the blanket for quick looks.
After four or so lightbulbs, that I broke on the cement, the chair, and myself, I then walked toward the street with my audience following. I gathered a few lightbulbs to take with me and near the street I “nested” with them for a few minutes before pacing around the sidewalk for a few more. I then sat once again to wait for the pizza delivery that I had ordered, an addition that no one else knew about, and so I peeked through my blanket at the street while the audience waited still. I could sense their impatience but at that moment the black delivery car drove up and I rose to follow it to where it had parked. I greeted the delivery person, slowly disrobing the blanket from around my face, and signed the receipt for the pizza which I then took and displayed triumphantly to the audience amidst cheers and clapping and then I swept the pink christmas tree blanket from around my form and tossed it lightly over my shoulder like a matador might and I waved the pizza box in the air like it were a trophy.
For this piece I projected the film “Sword of Doom,” an Edo Period drama directed by Kihachi Okamoto, 1966. This idea developed from my understanding of the role of the ronin, as a wandering samurai, self-removed from any greater allegiances and committed to a wanderers life.
In my continuous search for forms necessitated by ideas, I chose to show this film in the interior of a dark motel room, so as to juxtapose the illusion of dramatic space in the film with the interior of the alienated motel room so as to force myself into a physical and psychological place in order to consider the implications of home, purpose, allegiances, and artistic process. It was an attempt at a sort of shock-meditation. I was fearful of my neighbors, I chose a room in the back of the motel so as not to attract attention to myself, I locked the doors, I closed the window blinds.
I wanted to remind myself that I could leave by imagining myself as a ronin and dramatizing this event within the context of an artistic and very comfortable community in a small, safe town.
Despite all of my efforts, which could be defined as the impetus for the work rather than the effect of it, only one person of around 25 invited people showed up. We watched the film, ate and drank, and talked about these ideas. What we realized came to be the objective reality for the work. This reality was that, I had my ideas, but hardly anyone cared, and that it was for the context which they made their decision not to participate.
Because of this realization we devised a rule based on what we had seen of our community’s support of this work of art. If you show work in a safe and comfortable environment, they will view it. If you show work in a new and possibly unsafe environment, they will probably not view it. This may seem obvious but it was not to me when I chose to do this piece, or otherwise I may not have went to all the trouble.
I am glad though that I did do the piece because I became a ronin that night. I wandered off the charts, to where noone could see, and there I was an artist, or more importantly I was living life. This is how an artist should be, like a samurai who has a code, but like a ronin who may wander off at will.
