Trapped
As part of the festival K.R.O.P.P. Lab we perform at a small fishing port on the Baltic Sea. Here works besides the hobby fishermen still a professional fisherman. In Haglund Skola, where we artists prepare for the performances, I repair a fishing net, which I found in the farthest corner of the former potatoe store, under the expert eye of the landlord, a former fisherman from Croatia.
After I repaired the remaining holes on site, this time under the instructions of the local fisherman, I blow ash from the oven of the residency against the wind and with the wind to cheer the water spirits. Then I put myself in the net, which once was used as a trap for larger fishes. Inside I scatter the feathers of a rotten, old pillow.
Finally I fall trapped in the net into the sea and try to free myself from it (about this phase there are no pictures available).
Not without physical effort (I have to bend a metal ring, because my toes have become so tangled in the open part of the net that the exit is closed) I succeed finally and than I get rid of my white clothes. Underneath colorful iridescent clothes come to light. Exhausted and relaxed, I let myself be carried by the cold water for a while.
The associations of most observers, who connect the content of the performance with the overfishing of the oceans and extermination of different species of the sea, are certainly also correct here. For me, however, it is also about the fact that we trap ourselves in life again and again and are willingly taking over big challenges. The overcoming of these leaves us behind perhaps proud and successful, but also exhausted and discouraged, knowing that we can not withstand such recurring burdens in the long term.
I felt very clearly during this performance that I had to struggle with great fears in the run-up to the idea. How cold would the water be? What if I did not get out of the net?
The fears were relatively irrational, as I wore a wetsuit under my clothes and the net was connected with a rope to the bank. Still, viewers have said in retrospect - they've seen my “real” freeing struggle - that they were seriously worried because they felt that I was really fighting for "survival."
I have suceeded that my artistic work touches people. But did I not want to bring joy through my art? Hopefully this was still a performance of my former approach, and in the future I will be able to focus more and more on joy and encouragement.
It is also significant that exactly there, when I was struggeling in the water with the net, the battery of the photographer ran out and there are no photos of this phase.
One more hint for me to think about how to approach artistic work. The history of performance art teaches us that performance was and had to be mostly risky and self-injuring. I would like to open a new chapter and not to expose myself to this thrill any more, but pursue my new path to reach the audience through play and pleasure.
After I repaired the remaining holes on site, this time under the instructions of the local fisherman, I blow ash from the oven of the residency against the wind and with the wind to cheer the water spirits. Then I put myself in the net, which once was used as a trap for larger fishes. Inside I scatter the feathers of a rotten, old pillow.
Finally I fall trapped in the net into the sea and try to free myself from it (about this phase there are no pictures available).
Not without physical effort (I have to bend a metal ring, because my toes have become so tangled in the open part of the net that the exit is closed) I succeed finally and than I get rid of my white clothes. Underneath colorful iridescent clothes come to light. Exhausted and relaxed, I let myself be carried by the cold water for a while.
The associations of most observers, who connect the content of the performance with the overfishing of the oceans and extermination of different species of the sea, are certainly also correct here. For me, however, it is also about the fact that we trap ourselves in life again and again and are willingly taking over big challenges. The overcoming of these leaves us behind perhaps proud and successful, but also exhausted and discouraged, knowing that we can not withstand such recurring burdens in the long term.
I felt very clearly during this performance that I had to struggle with great fears in the run-up to the idea. How cold would the water be? What if I did not get out of the net?
The fears were relatively irrational, as I wore a wetsuit under my clothes and the net was connected with a rope to the bank. Still, viewers have said in retrospect - they've seen my “real” freeing struggle - that they were seriously worried because they felt that I was really fighting for "survival."
I have suceeded that my artistic work touches people. But did I not want to bring joy through my art? Hopefully this was still a performance of my former approach, and in the future I will be able to focus more and more on joy and encouragement.
It is also significant that exactly there, when I was struggeling in the water with the net, the battery of the photographer ran out and there are no photos of this phase.
One more hint for me to think about how to approach artistic work. The history of performance art teaches us that performance was and had to be mostly risky and self-injuring. I would like to open a new chapter and not to expose myself to this thrill any more, but pursue my new path to reach the audience through play and pleasure.
August 2019
K.R.O.P.P. Lab 2019
Mon no Kai, SU-EN Butho Company
Gudinge hamn, Sweden
Pics by Asa Norling, Per Nilson, SU-EN
K.R.O.P.P. Lab 2019
Mon no Kai, SU-EN Butho Company
Gudinge hamn, Sweden
Pics by Asa Norling, Per Nilson, SU-EN