tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27951986842385346172024-03-13T10:38:26.853-07:00A Situation in which the Void becomes ObsessiveM.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-59749984164201609892013-01-24T17:14:00.001-08:002013-01-24T17:15:58.663-08:00Do Not Feed The Animals<div style="text-align: center;">
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The internet is a construction of the world we inhabit. We log on and live second or virtual lives and then we safely log off to participate once more in the physical realm. To be online you must be alone, yet it is essentially a kind of telephone
meant to communicate with one another desperate for a contradictory
touch. We are sterile with screens between us. We are safe in the
anonymity to display animal behavior in simulation of animal needs unless the boundaries between virtual and reality becomes blurred.</div>
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This video was shown in the <span itemprop="name">Video en Acción festival in Valencia, Venezuela. It was organised and curated by </span>Yacanna Martinez and <a href="http://eliseosolismora.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Eliseo Solís Mora</a></div>
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M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-8284041911566455832013-01-24T16:16:00.002-08:002013-01-24T16:56:11.442-08:00See No Evil <div style="text-align: center;">
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See No Evil is about the social surveillance of bodies
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There is no freedom as the body is constantly being observed by the gaze of a million eyes</div>
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Evil is the glare of every stare and the presumptions that invalidate the one gazed at</div>
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To see no evil is to render the gaze harmless by not acknowledging it</div>
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Denial can be the worst punishment and self defense the greatest self preservation<br />
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Within this body I have grown, and there is the tendency to take for granted this vessel until there is the understanding that this is a tool once we learn how to use and, or control it. With self control there is an appreciation of what it can do and by testing its limits we get to glimpse the limitless which is the self within. Without control we are driving carelessly; allowing false control to bear witness and create delusion. The ego takes the wheel and tends to attach itself to every occurrence on this trip - saying 'I am a series of events that happened to me' - everything occurs in relation to this fragile sense of self. All mental anguish comes from ego; if I withdraw the ego then there is no pain to feel. But if my sense of self is both so strong and weak- the ego is but a fattened being laying above a hungry and feeble self unable to move; then I am left with little choice than to withdraw the senses. Lessened sense stimulation may lessen a false stimulation of self.<br />
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These are just preliminary thoughts for a study in sense withdrawal to achieve self withdrawal. I start with what I see- since sight is a dominant sense- we tend to be overly dependent on the visual to validate reality. </div>
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I wear the white dress that has almost become like a uniform in recent performances. It is a simbol of past experiences; of childhood; of the idea of purity- all attachments of ego. I use body movements from capoeira and yoga. I use elements of the sun salutation ( hatha yoga) and esquivas or evasion movements (capoeira). These forms are deconstructed and strung together in a dance of defense, evasion and acceptance in this blind desired state.<br />
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It was recorded in the center of the Savannah and it was shown as part of the CoCo dance festival. </div>
<br />M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-74759793793137692682012-07-10T20:04:00.003-07:002012-07-10T20:07:21.109-07:00Morena Memory<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="600" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/39520599" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/39520599">Morena Memory</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user3692484">Michelle Isava</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>
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Morena memory is part of a series in which I extract characters of myself and
present them each in isolation. It is about embodied history and how it
complicates the present with internal anxiety and tension. It looks at the embodiment of the past in the present. The
body is an artifact of all our history for us to unravel, deconstruct
and then reconstruct as we desire. In like manner I have used my body
for the camera's investigation; it scopes out the specific dress, skin
color, hair texture and style and other features of imagined identity.
It is an object being watched as it also watches out into distant hills.
The tension builds through sound; the breath - climaxing and
exhausting, and the laughter of children as they ominously sing, 'there
is a brown girl in the ring'.<br />
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A version of the video was recently shown in Season of Renewal an exhibition celebrating 50 years of Trinidad & Tobago's Independence. It took place at the regional headquarters of the U.W.I. Mona Campus, Jamaica.<br />
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More info on the event can be seen in the links below:<br />
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<a href="http://artsocietytt.org/2012-Jamaicaexhibition.html" target="_blank">http://artsocietytt.org/2012-Jamaicaexhibition.html </a><br />
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<a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/NEWS/Trini-Art">http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/NEWS/Trini-Art</a><br />
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<a href="http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/2012/06/season-of-renewal-celebrating-50-years-of-independence-and-caribbean-partnership/">http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/2012/06/season-of-renewal-celebrating-50-years-of-independence-and-caribbean-partnership/</a>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-7512376546215919652012-06-03T21:31:00.000-07:002012-07-10T18:58:43.508-07:00In it<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>In it without beginning or end</b><br />
<b>Photo by Dominique Veerasammy</b><br />
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<a href="http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/" target="_blank">Arc Magazine</a> brought together a group of scholars, writers and artists to explore the work of <a href="http://www.jasminethomasgirvan.com/" target="_blank">Jasmine Thomas Girvan</a> through <a href="http://us2.campaign-archive1.com/?u=4d2a9ac1354d87c8428468257&id=1f7c733ba0&e=%5BUNIQID%5D" target="_blank">Interpretations: Gardening in the Tropics.</a> It also served as the launch of issue 5 of the magazine in Trinidad & Tobago; it was previously launched in Suriname.<br />
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The show had a particular focus on the creative process and the way artists are inspired by the art of others. The work becomes like a conversation as it speaks from one piece to the next. The speakers talked about Jasmine's work and the various ways it impacted them; likewise Jasmine's exhibition from last year was a conversation with the works of poet Olive Senior. Similarly <a href="http://jaimeleeloy.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jaime Lee Loy</a> and myself were invited to continue and also be part of the conversation by creating work around Olive's poetry that both this event and Jasmine's exhibition borrowed its title from:</div>
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<i><b>Gardening in the Tropics,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>you'll find things that don't </b></i></div>
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<i><b>belong together often intertwine</b></i></div>
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<i><b>all mixed up in this amazing fecundity</b></i><br />
<i><b>We grow as convoluted as the vine</b></i></div>
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<b>abstracted from 'The Knot Garden' by Olive Senior</b></div>
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I could personally relate to the above quote from a historical reading of the Caribbean space. The very specific ways in which different people's came together and the drama, trauma and violence that ensued as a result with very real repercussions seen and felt in the present like echoes from restless ghosts. But like '<b>Stowaway'</b> I realize that I am the protagonist that is searching and not any imagined ghost.</div>
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<b><i>There is this much space between me and discovery</i></b></div>
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<b><i>a hairline fracture getting wider with each wave.</i></b></div>
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<b>abstracted from 'Stowaway"</b></div>
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<b>In it</b>, was influenced by both <b>'The Knot Garden'</b> and <b>'The Stowaway'</b>. In the first I see the past and in the latter I see the contemporary contemplation of it. It is personal to all as we have all been affected in distinct ways. That is why I chose to double represent myself with a video and an in-situ installation. The video speaks to<b> 'The Knot Garden'</b> while my body wrapped and hidden in cloth is the <b>'Stowaway'</b>.</div>
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Below is <b>Wash Basin</b>, a version of the video shown, it was projected over my body concealed by cloth arranged to mimic hills and valleys.<br />
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The video is footage from the Blue Basin river in Diego Martin. It is a literal translation of the abstract from <b>'The Knot Garden'; 'that amazing fecundity'</b> is mixed with <a href="http://missingtrinbagonians.wordpress.com/2005/05/31/2005-05-31-blue-basin-horror-couple-shot-dead-in-kidnap-drama/" target="_blank">crime, kidnapping and murder</a>. Over the years it has gained a reputation for crime and during the recent <a href="http://www.guardian.co.tt/news/2011/08/22/pm-declares-limited-state-emergency" target="_blank">limited state of emergency in 2011</a> it was deemed a <a href="http://www.trinidadandtobagonews.com/blog/?p=5591" target="_blank">hot spot</a>. An article in the Newsday newspaper describes it as the <a href="http://www.newsday.co.tt/news/0,20695." target="_blank">Darker Side of Blue Basin</a>. Within the community there are tales and myths of the history of violence of this place.Violence is continuous. Despite this, of all the rivers I have visited it is the one I am most connected to and fond of probably because it is so near to where I have lived since puberty.<br />
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The <b>Knot Garden</b> also reminds me of this excerpt from <b>Wide Sargasso Sea</b> by Jean Rhys:<br />
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<i>'<b>Our garden was large and beautiful as that garden in the Bible- the tree of life grew there. But it had gone wild. The path was overgrown and a smell of dead flowers mixed with the fresh living smell. Underneath the tree ferns, tall as forest tree ferns, the light was green. Orchids flourished out of reach, or for some reason not to be touched. One was sneaky looking, another like an octopus with long thin brown tentacles bare of leaves hanging from a twisted root. Twice as large, the octopus orchids flowered- not an inch of tentacle showed- it was bell dashed shaped. It was a mass of white, mauve, deep purples, wonderful to see. The scent was very sweet and strong. I never went near it' </b></i></div>
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This piece shows the ways that things that do not belong together inhabit the same space producing often times a menacing effect also seen in the quote below, likewise from the Wide Sargasso Sea, in the way the narrator's senses are overwhelmed almost feeling claustrophobic </div>
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<i><b>There was a soft wind blowing but I understood why the porter had called it a wild place. Not only wild but menacing. Those hills could close in on you. What an extreme green (...) Everything is too much, I felt as I rode wearily after her. Too much blue, too much purple, too much green. The flowers to red, the mountains to high, the hills too near.' </b></i><br />
(Part II, pg 49)</div>
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For more information view the following links:</div>
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The event: </div>
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<a href="http://us2.campaign-archive1.com/?u=4d2a9ac1354d87c8428468257&id=1f7c733ba0&e=%5BUNIQID%5D">http://us2.campaign-archive1.com/?u=4d2a9ac1354d87c8428468257&id=1f7c733ba0&e=%5BUNIQID%5D</a></div>
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<a href="http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/2012/05/reporting-from-interpretations-gardening-in-the-tropics/">http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/2012/05/reporting-from-interpretations-gardening-in-the-tropics/</a></div>
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Arc magazine:<br />
<a href="http://arcthemagazine.com/">http://arcthemagazine.com</a><br />
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<a href="https://vimeo.com/42808302">https://vimeo.com/42808302</a>
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Olive Senior:<br />
<a href="http://www.olivesenior.com/">http://www.olivesenior.com/</a><br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olive_Senior" style="text-align: justify;" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olive_Senior</a>
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<a href="http://www.olivesenior.com/pdfs/gardeningGlossary.pdf" style="text-align: justify;">http://www.olivesenior.com/pdfs/gardeningGlossary.pdf</a>
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Jasmine Thomas Girvan:<br />
<a href="http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/2012/04/jasmine-thomas-girvan/">http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/2012/04/jasmine-thomas-girvan/</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.jasminethomasgirvan.com/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank"> http://www.jasminethomasgirvan.com/</a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div>
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Reviews on Gardening in the Tropics, Exhibition by Jasmin Thomas Girvan: </div>
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<a href="http://www.normangirvan.info/thomas-girvan-gardening-tropics/">http://www.normangirvan.info/thomas-girvan-gardening-tropics/</a></div>
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<a href="http://pleasurett.blogspot.com/2011/12/under-leaves-so-green.html">http://pleasurett.blogspot.com/2011/12/under-leaves-so-green.html</a></div>
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Catalogue of Gardening in the Tropics, Exhibition by Jasmin Thomas Girvan: </div>
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<a href="http://www.normangirvan.info/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/jasmine-catalogue-2011.pdf">http://www.normangirvan.info/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/jasmine-catalogue-2011.pdf</a></div>
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</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-85821251265827842342012-05-31T00:44:00.001-07:002012-07-10T18:55:11.896-07:00Dirty Water<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Ends with Dirty</b><br />
<b>Photo by Dominique Veerasammy</b></div>
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At the launch of the second issue of the <a href="http://caribbeanintransit.com/" target="_blank">Caribbean Intransit art Journal</a> I performed Dirty Water. It is a piece containing subtle tricks and obscurities as I collect, release and transfer water from four vessels including my own body. </div>
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There is a dark basin in front of where I sit, so the cleanliness of it can not be discerned. A calabash bowl falls from inside my dress and water is in my mouth now revealed as my cheeks expand. I collect the bowl, proceed to let out the water from my mouth into the bowl and I also spit into it several times. I have another bowl with water underneath my chair. I drink from one and spit into the other. The water comes out of my mouth clean but when it comes out of the bowl it is dark. When I sit I rest the calabash bowl on my laps and it leaks onto my dress. I make slight variations of the actions; it progresses to me standing and letting the water drip back into the basin. It ends with me spitting the water out as a final release.<br />
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<b>Starts Clean</b></div>
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<b>Photo by Elliott Stallion</b><br />
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Below is video footage from the performance:<br />
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For more information on the Caribbean Intransit Arts Journal: <a href="http://caribbeanintransit.com/">http://caribbeanintransit.com/</a></div>
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To download Issue 2:</div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/caribbeanintransit/docs/issue_2_caribbean_intransit_location_and_caribbean#download" target="_blank"> http://issuu.com/caribbeanintransit/docs/issue_2_caribbean_intransit_location_and_caribbean#download</a></div>
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<br /></div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-14133487535010337692011-12-02T19:32:00.003-08:002012-06-01T07:28:37.472-07:00Where Are You Now?<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMA90GYBIUxi5uIFrhpi_5RKc8pAaCyJY_VmE4TjJO75k_qcx_Ytn7ZeV4FWvy36XaPoP1mjV1abD1ZR0X8z36znNQ25ll3YpgMfadhHW-nicyrknOMAKPeXkZg-JfRWdZNeUSgd1VIQI/s1600/hiohu.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681747474295532754" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMA90GYBIUxi5uIFrhpi_5RKc8pAaCyJY_VmE4TjJO75k_qcx_Ytn7ZeV4FWvy36XaPoP1mjV1abD1ZR0X8z36znNQ25ll3YpgMfadhHW-nicyrknOMAKPeXkZg-JfRWdZNeUSgd1VIQI/s400/hiohu.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 474px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 436px;" /></a><span style="color: #003300;"></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Starts confined and in an invisible integument</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo by Joshua Cazoe</span><br />
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After I returned I continued the (White Dresses) series started in Berlin <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2011/10/why-did-you-go-so-far.html">Why Did You Go So Far?</a> with <span style="font-weight: bold;">Where Are You Now?</span> I performed as part of the CoCo (Contemporary Choreographers Collective) Festival at the Little Carib Theater.<br />
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This series works out of memory almost as a kind of reenactment, the decision to repeat it is to dialogue with myself and hopefully take it out of myself as a kind of burden worn like second skin. This makes memory into ritual.<br />
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The actions were minimalist to get to a very raw aspect of memory. I start obscured by darkness, crouched and contorted underneath a chair and very close to the audience off stage. As the music starts slowly I start to move, at first I am swaying back and forth. Then the urgency to escape starts to rise within me and I need to break free even though I am not behind any actual bars. It is as though I am confined to an invisible barrier and I use my body in ways to make the most of my limited space. Eventually in my absurd struggle I make it on the chair and from that height it becomes easier to crawl onto the stage. Once I have made it to that distance I am not free, the more I try to rise and stand is the more I fall. But with enough practice I am now confident enough to bring that chair, that somehow both confined me and set me free, up with me. It is yet more struggle to drag it up on the stage and with the final pull I fall with it and we engage in a strange dance consisting of me trying to conquer the chair and make it be a chair- static for me to sit on. Only when this is achieved, when I was able to sit on it, was the performance over<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">After I went so far I had to sit down and ask myself Where Am I Now, Really?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-jg1DBN6xlPI6ItpKUU7IQWaUVRhXYWbrlR9Nsw16-VqqyMVKHe0jyLTGRdBCrMX6rmZ6RBQgias0uQSlTZtz-fKyk30PpTZSSWZBt-1eaVcDL0llFP28lEYN9GthEZyCBlSiqG2Gx0/s1600/313644_306782606000785_134949476517433_1298936_1011373176_n.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681746259597225634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-jg1DBN6xlPI6ItpKUU7IQWaUVRhXYWbrlR9Nsw16-VqqyMVKHe0jyLTGRdBCrMX6rmZ6RBQgias0uQSlTZtz-fKyk30PpTZSSWZBt-1eaVcDL0llFP28lEYN9GthEZyCBlSiqG2Gx0/s400/313644_306782606000785_134949476517433_1298936_1011373176_n.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 641px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 427px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ends seated</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo by Karen Johnstone</span></div>
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</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-71303714409278311852011-10-24T18:50:00.000-07:002012-05-31T01:12:17.354-07:00Don't Let Me Die<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdj4sFGauaYjMsjFQ07ubmAuUYlXiByGBJuWdgMPqN4874BsD312OMLDmA2wF3fOna2UniDHiKTNHIqnAxuYPO7xeS4X3l8Roq00DrtV7MHv5YmMZBYKu0w3L3C3WuIxVKBDhv0rQRYaA/s1600/DSC03791.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667246340762830274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdj4sFGauaYjMsjFQ07ubmAuUYlXiByGBJuWdgMPqN4874BsD312OMLDmA2wF3fOna2UniDHiKTNHIqnAxuYPO7xeS4X3l8Roq00DrtV7MHv5YmMZBYKu0w3L3C3WuIxVKBDhv0rQRYaA/s400/DSC03791.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 352px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 531px;" /></a>photo by <a href="http://www.mmonikasobczak.com/">Monika Sobczak</a></div>
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At the <a href="http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/index.php?/passtudies/2011/">P.A.S.</a> workshop I met Savio Debernadis, from Italy, and instantly everyone in the group noticed that we mirrored each other in many ways. We had very similar hair type and color, skin color, body size and even personality traits. I enjoyed coming so far from familiarity to find someone very familiar to myself like a long lost relative.<br />
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We decided to experiment with the potential of each other's similarity for the possibility of a performance together. During the exercises of the workshop and even during our free time we were critical of each other to notice what is the quality of our interaction. Finally we admitted to ourselves that our interaction was not harmonious because we were too much the same. Together we emphasize our individual pathetic qualities making every movement very internal and psychologically tense or even absurdist.</div>
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The major difference between us is our gender but even that is debatable because of our common body type and androgyny. However, gender was included in our final performance as a secondary theme to play with like props. We both wore similar hair styles and clothes but still it was obvious that one was more authentically female and the other was almost passing. He had plenty facial hair so his passing for female was more like a parody and obviously untrue. We had another gender prop; this was the action repeated through out the night of imposing each other's gender on the other. I had lipstick in my hand as a symbol of my femaleness and he had an eyeliner pencil, used to give me the appearance of facial hair, to symbolize his maleness.<br />
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<b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doppelg%C3%A4nger">doppelgänger</a></b><span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doppelg%C3%A4nger">s</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZ-QnR_yr52MT7JT27j04oW_xjCehKqVewumPhIVDxpHDFg0pnmKYx9PFfqtrhruaYNXMX81mQes90Yzv1JPmjmmZgvGNUU3GfORLMNdQbRPkmw17xzSQT0HVis7GOtsc7xCrJl1PJCE/s1600/IMG_6085.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667245492549224354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZ-QnR_yr52MT7JT27j04oW_xjCehKqVewumPhIVDxpHDFg0pnmKYx9PFfqtrhruaYNXMX81mQes90Yzv1JPmjmmZgvGNUU3GfORLMNdQbRPkmw17xzSQT0HVis7GOtsc7xCrJl1PJCE/s400/IMG_6085.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 566px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 379px;" /></a>photo by <a href="http://www.matthiaspick.de/Welcome.html">Matthias Pick</a></div>
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The main action consisted of us being binded together back to back to see how we survive as one homogenous being since we are so much the same. This was a reference to Aristophanes' speech in Plato's Symposium that says people were made so perfect that they made the gods jealous. So one day Zeus cursed them all by separating them and thereby forcing them to spend their lives in search of their other half and end the misery of being alone and separate.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS57A2WgTewekz8OaBE1q3IiJx7_BcNp6-v17RDKzyk_GLkS5QKXCgZD_fN_ujjBYUxrJrchboyhhR7xy02Crd1-9XAK7mosRb6vW1tyBUJO2IOfxxtf6zv9INM_MVGpuwQULJTdA5BEo/s1600/DSC03806.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667258815482682546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS57A2WgTewekz8OaBE1q3IiJx7_BcNp6-v17RDKzyk_GLkS5QKXCgZD_fN_ujjBYUxrJrchboyhhR7xy02Crd1-9XAK7mosRb6vW1tyBUJO2IOfxxtf6zv9INM_MVGpuwQULJTdA5BEo/s400/DSC03806.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 341px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 513px;" /></a>photo by <a href="http://www.mmonikasobczak.com/">Monika Sobczak</a></div>
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It was a durational performance beginning as my <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2011/10/why-did-you-go-so-far.html">solo performance </a>ended until the end of the night; that lasted 150 minutes. He has the eyeliner in his hands, trying to draw moustaches on me. I have a lipstick, trying to put it on his lips. The only way we allowed ourselves to communicate is with the phrase<span style="font-weight: bold;"> “ Don’t let me die”</span>. The time, the uncomfortable position, the impossibility of a good communication, the action to put lipstick or eyeliner on the other was a journey from the pathetic, the absurd and the humorous. The performance finished when he, gave a knife to a person in the audience, and said: <span style="font-weight: bold;">“Please let me die”</span>. The person cut the tape and the two performers run away becoming free from the other.<br />
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<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><b>doppelgänger</b><span style="font-weight: bold;">s</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">struggling</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwh7fhK1EVErlL8ERwCEQNLD-L3QGwizkxlI-uDMlPTyx-BDBggNFPqvfdq15yo2YjMyn8IzeleDjqoaCC1yVbmOU5ffz-GoTjS46KAQTQC1FU7iaO4WbOn8p8Bkuw0NT_1CbS_gKXQfg/s1600/DSC03894.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667260312696457986" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwh7fhK1EVErlL8ERwCEQNLD-L3QGwizkxlI-uDMlPTyx-BDBggNFPqvfdq15yo2YjMyn8IzeleDjqoaCC1yVbmOU5ffz-GoTjS46KAQTQC1FU7iaO4WbOn8p8Bkuw0NT_1CbS_gKXQfg/s400/DSC03894.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 345px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 523px;" /></a><b>doppelgängers almost dying</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7sQKXEZ4r1I3_ghRSDEBIC9ohourZpIrp6XsP7hMYWvaLv3E1ggsSVEfttlWjZPBo2Uv6GETTNVAE5DioONvrqfa-kzUMGZectK0fjqM9G-C8_UxDNdQiCfc04fHGtuXhkmEvamYypd4/s1600/DSC03904.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667261181497209858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7sQKXEZ4r1I3_ghRSDEBIC9ohourZpIrp6XsP7hMYWvaLv3E1ggsSVEfttlWjZPBo2Uv6GETTNVAE5DioONvrqfa-kzUMGZectK0fjqM9G-C8_UxDNdQiCfc04fHGtuXhkmEvamYypd4/s400/DSC03904.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 344px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 519px;" /></a> photos by <a href="http://www.mmonikasobczak.com/">Monika Sobczak</a><br />
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The whole that Aristophanes spoke of was not us because we were exact doubles so conflict and disharmony arose. There could be no point of contact and intersection between so much of the same. The more alike we were the more impotent we became together.</div>
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More information and photos on the performance can be viewed :<br />
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<a href="http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/index.php?/2011/michelle-isava---saverio-debernardis/">http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/index.php?/2011/michelle-isava---saverio-debernardis/</a></div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-68962371973893397122011-10-03T21:43:00.001-07:002012-06-01T07:29:18.664-07:00Why Did You Go So Far?<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="442" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/30237362?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="667"></iframe><br />
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Camera by <a href="http://www.liveartwork.com/">Christopher Hewitt</a><br />
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For my second time participating and performing in the <a href="http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/index.php?/passtudies/2011/">Performance Art Studies program</a> I conceived of my performance with three basic elements:</div>
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<li><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> a cage- to escape from</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">feathers -to escape with</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">and a childish dress- to contextualize the escape.</span></span></li>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The process of finding these items directed the action. The cage was more symbolic than literal so I decided to use a metal fold up bed. Since the bed is two dimensional it had to be hung for visual impact. It was hung over a window and I stood behind it waiting to start the performance. Like a caged bird at night, the front bars of my cage(-bed) were covered with a sheet. The audience met me hidden in this way. I started slowly to struggle behind the sheet making sounds hitting the bars to brake free. Eventually the sheet fell down. At that point I stood still and repeated the word ‘Emergency’ like a lullaby. I stretched the word into Emerge- en - cee to make it suggestive and haunting. When I stopped I found a simple way to gain freedom from my cage and I merely crawled out underneath. On the ground were many feathers on which I started to move but could never get away from as they moved with me; making me slip and even going into my mouth. I struggled in this way for several minutes until I slowed down and stopped. Slowly I crawled under the feathers to hide again.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Start trapped</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7zEPB0R7_2g-IBeUp8pbS5eTyNfEh-NjsNcrFf4KvnybmodKIJnNGNCBCZI936L7qRoWXW-_ndEH0V_UhvwDJKgiwo-03OMblo0T7BlRrxLrDQ-UBigN9Kfbo1aq-3qPFpiHb9Ep6Jw/s1600/gyu.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659504991951149122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7zEPB0R7_2g-IBeUp8pbS5eTyNfEh-NjsNcrFf4KvnybmodKIJnNGNCBCZI936L7qRoWXW-_ndEH0V_UhvwDJKgiwo-03OMblo0T7BlRrxLrDQ-UBigN9Kfbo1aq-3qPFpiHb9Ep6Jw/s400/gyu.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 670px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 447px;" /></a><br />
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Photo by <a href="http://www.matthiaspick.de/Welcome.html">Matthias Pick</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaypSc5VwNMZSDDjJKyzBC4mvIoAPI5YhEF2H1EKa09F_BDxGO-dIG7iIR4SR4UX4-J4_AySKwLpVzulRjr07P4NImPEkY_ivEvJA_kK4nXxWnSjGGEyeq2ab7IanXCEPtZGN-G9ZO1jc/s1600/hui.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659508708458465778" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaypSc5VwNMZSDDjJKyzBC4mvIoAPI5YhEF2H1EKa09F_BDxGO-dIG7iIR4SR4UX4-J4_AySKwLpVzulRjr07P4NImPEkY_ivEvJA_kK4nXxWnSjGGEyeq2ab7IanXCEPtZGN-G9ZO1jc/s400/hui.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 679px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 450px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ends hidden</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Photo by <a href="http://www.mmonikasobczak.com/">Monika Sobczak</a></span></div>
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</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-68786408900435885002011-09-10T06:20:00.000-07:002012-05-31T00:57:36.714-07:00Textura de Sombra<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY2OwytZTneBxuByT2uEPvigfUVUTcnyCE7mGUxFWIG5FfaVNufdEFp3KdMEUAjQkL-7Fx-x4P3juNttyxuZES1BlxYkg4vSdqn6yi5V3L-hCIr23tQZylNMf3qoIoSL2COX51_ERl4No/s1600/gwg.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650731243197873698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY2OwytZTneBxuByT2uEPvigfUVUTcnyCE7mGUxFWIG5FfaVNufdEFp3KdMEUAjQkL-7Fx-x4P3juNttyxuZES1BlxYkg4vSdqn6yi5V3L-hCIr23tQZylNMf3qoIoSL2COX51_ERl4No/s400/gwg.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 401px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 502px;" /></a></div>
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"<b><i>NÓMADA EL LABERINTO DEL TORO</i></b>" is an urban art festival that took place every weekend from the 31st of July to the 21st of August, Maracay, Venezuela. I performed on the second weekend of the event.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Textura de Sombra</span> translates as <span style="font-weight: bold;">Texture of Shadow</span>. It consists of three main elements; my body dressed all in black, a scissors f0r cutting and food substances: sugar and yellow corn meal; both are a powdery texture. This piece aimed to make visible something personal and corporeal. I returned to the theme of showing the marked body as I first did in <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2010/07/girl-in-box-carnival-carnival.html">Marked for Life. </a></div>
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However I wanted the cutting to be as far removed from the idea of pain as possible. I wanted it to be more of a symbol, a memory, a line, a way of marking. I did this by making the act itself very hidden, slow and minimalist. I used the sugar and cornmeal the way colored powders are used to make mandalas using colors, line and repetition to create a composition that ended on my body. The lines were imitations of my way of marking myself; straight parallel lines. Through all this repetition I am drawing my lines out of myself and on to other surfaces.<br />
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I started the performance on the ground in the center of a design of concentric circles; this made my actions very site specific. I sat in the middle of the hills of cornmeal and sugar. I chose these substances to represent my dual Identity. Sugar historically coming from the sugar industry in Trinidad & Tobago and Corn Meal being the main ingredient for the traditional Venezuelan daily bread, Arepas. I used both substances for their texture and poured them like sand within the lines of the circles I was sitting on. All around myself I poured them to create numerous parallel lines.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyGNWKCBzD3lEYIrLj7Xhu7f9mAdTlGkHi9z2mdrpfLFuuy2RrALwD6FO_tv6ft4vLx8oGnv1XjGBeeNMd7434LX9JDJf3mbUA4xRahIFe-GxMOTjlpArPVPIjV5LXMd5d2UINZJr2ho8/s1600/geqg.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650731840183056114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyGNWKCBzD3lEYIrLj7Xhu7f9mAdTlGkHi9z2mdrpfLFuuy2RrALwD6FO_tv6ft4vLx8oGnv1XjGBeeNMd7434LX9JDJf3mbUA4xRahIFe-GxMOTjlpArPVPIjV5LXMd5d2UINZJr2ho8/s400/geqg.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 231px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 308px;" /></a>Sugar</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvbog66LsMHby_oaVO1fEWDs3PQcgEKDNhT66V6b7agoe87EE4LodU-1o2dyMfMOR2KXdV-wXAl7ZZcJ05uKEpRlz4O3WTTvF1RI75NxF_OXNDYh9eaSCRcXuGtlbd28JOnu-gMSjL1rE/s1600/251419_2216065357058_1110320143_2651479_3640831_n.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650731694651802802" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvbog66LsMHby_oaVO1fEWDs3PQcgEKDNhT66V6b7agoe87EE4LodU-1o2dyMfMOR2KXdV-wXAl7ZZcJ05uKEpRlz4O3WTTvF1RI75NxF_OXNDYh9eaSCRcXuGtlbd28JOnu-gMSjL1rE/s400/251419_2216065357058_1110320143_2651479_3640831_n.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 270px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 309px;" /></a>Corn Meal<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDyVgZcHRdPF04xCjqGB_1RTEjNxnRAnKLj7gP_5LJRmD615RccmT342BhVkZYYsP1uk0IquV576N-lo8ESMQf4ioVo0plqsLaWxC0r7LMvncPTk4s2H1SNpKpFdXk6m68Ctz8wahYug/s1600/252058_139622516125748_100002340004390_238492_4036234_n.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650729421259084658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDyVgZcHRdPF04xCjqGB_1RTEjNxnRAnKLj7gP_5LJRmD615RccmT342BhVkZYYsP1uk0IquV576N-lo8ESMQf4ioVo0plqsLaWxC0r7LMvncPTk4s2H1SNpKpFdXk6m68Ctz8wahYug/s400/252058_139622516125748_100002340004390_238492_4036234_n.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 344px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 459px;" /></a><br />
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When the hills had disappeared in this way I proceeded to cut open my leggings to reveal my naked flesh which similarly shows repeated parallel lines from scars. With sets of staples concealed in my hands I caressed my legs until old wounds reopened and new wounds were made. Once more I recreated lines; in each different way that I draw it, it is a mantra. The cuts bleeding in the same pattern I made on the ground; my blood mixing with the sugar and corn meal.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1gXPA7dOo5U8FZIVWIPUNXDyUjugVxw9uDSWjnhP8tkTzYuu2bCMNHS2XhBn-t6zdO8agPIl0jkKw6Ae6Y7sX6NfqDjE-rMBzir9LqZ92iQpOOOExy7o3g0feN6DcypC7lnAo8n2NP0/s1600/wf.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650720553786271394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1gXPA7dOo5U8FZIVWIPUNXDyUjugVxw9uDSWjnhP8tkTzYuu2bCMNHS2XhBn-t6zdO8agPIl0jkKw6Ae6Y7sX6NfqDjE-rMBzir9LqZ92iQpOOOExy7o3g0feN6DcypC7lnAo8n2NP0/s400/wf.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 417px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 559px;" /></a><br />
Photos by Narvis Bracamonte and Morella Cuba<br />
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Below is the video footage from the performance. It starts off very shaky but nonetheless I am always grateful for the people I meet willing to help me preserve these moments.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WdVmbHqmSMs" width="640"></iframe><br />
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<br /></div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-48569907539010116102011-05-15T19:08:00.003-07:002012-05-31T01:02:48.232-07:00Being Everywhere<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kgPDkD3a-K2eqAaU5MfLGRq108A-KyWecl1rJPSifyywbxEFvaf86owvY_xOiR7d3ZBtFpJ6BOTf93gdnwtqWItqBCr7UWqo1DoL4rxSRvVUomMt7ilEc-4nz47TpcZf01f_0z2rFzA/s1600/fb.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607130306381671762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kgPDkD3a-K2eqAaU5MfLGRq108A-KyWecl1rJPSifyywbxEFvaf86owvY_xOiR7d3ZBtFpJ6BOTf93gdnwtqWItqBCr7UWqo1DoL4rxSRvVUomMt7ilEc-4nz47TpcZf01f_0z2rFzA/s400/fb.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 505px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 418px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">All One Breath</span></div>
photo by Simone Gilliatt<br />
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<a href="http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/web-content/index.html">Being Everywhere</a> is a project started by <a href="http://www.stefanriebel.de/">Stefan Riebel</a> based on his performative and sculptural works. He fills white balloons with his breath and sends them to people all over the world to burst and release his breath wherever they are. Anybody can take part by emailing him from this link: <a href="http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/participate/participate.html">http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/participate/participate.html</a></div>
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I had asked to take part in January, 2011 and in April I received a package containing the balloon with his breath still intact.<br />
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I went to the beach and had myself buried with the balloon in my mouth and then I burst it. Below is a video I made of it:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="500" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/22914176?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="667"></iframe></div>
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I was interested to participate in this project because of its conceptual nature using an ephemeral material like breath to form bonds between people all over the world. It reveals our common fragility; making our distance apart seem less than it is. It unites us through mail and the internet but also most importantly through one individual's breath which then becomes everybody's breath.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">For more information view the following links</span>:<br />
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My participation:<br />
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<a href="http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/pictures/no_257.html">http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/pictures/no_257.html</a><br />
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The Being Everywhere website:<br />
<a href="http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/web-content/index.html"><br />http://www.beingeverywhere.net/beingeverywhere/web-content/index.html </a><br />
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Stefan Riebel website:<br />
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<a href="http://www.stefanriebel.de/">http://www.stefanriebel.de/</a><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, SunSans-Regular, sans-serif;"><br /></span>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-89796967261257092552011-04-23T13:43:00.002-07:002012-05-31T00:59:12.139-07:00Taking Part in Territorio Desdibujado: Self Portrait/ Autorretrato<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5uvkkIoGCkNZGt-moCZWKY-CdjKDx6L_6dfeYBR51XHaKNdGBxGCjenWdy9pzSIfIO8irjbbLC-0b3jmAxpZAL-rhhUZG4hJGgrhTrN_eZaEMxczcWzUYv8HOJWTCVQSlh7oE3odlYLE/s1600/camera+142.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598910142948941442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5uvkkIoGCkNZGt-moCZWKY-CdjKDx6L_6dfeYBR51XHaKNdGBxGCjenWdy9pzSIfIO8irjbbLC-0b3jmAxpZAL-rhhUZG4hJGgrhTrN_eZaEMxczcWzUYv8HOJWTCVQSlh7oE3odlYLE/s400/camera+142.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 382px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 515px;" /></a> <span style="font-weight: bold;">I am the T.V. / </span><span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;">Soy la T<span lang="es"><span title="Click for alternate translations">elevisión</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Stare Like a Junkie/Parado como un drogadicto</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Because Tragedy Fills me/ Porque eso me llena </span></div>
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<span lang="es" style="font-weight: bold;"> <span title="Click for alternate translations">Tragedia, violencia y sexo</span></span></div>
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Después del original performance de <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2009/10/tv-monologue.html"><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">'Niña en la Caja'</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></a>hecho en 2007, este autoretrato (intervenido por la tecnología) fue parte del proyecto Territorio Desdibujado por <a href="http://espaciolevintanteapuntesdearte.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Eliseo Solís Mora</span></a> para la XI <a href="http://www.velada-santa-lucia.com/">Velada de Santa Lucía</a>, 4-6 Marzo 2011.<br />
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After the original live performance of <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2009/10/tv-monologue.html" style="font-weight: bold;">'Girl in the Box</a>' made in 2007, this self portrait (intervened by technology) was part of the <a href="http://territoriodesdibujado.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Territorio Desdibujado</span></a> (Blurred Territory) curatorial project by <a href="http://espaciolevintanteapuntesdearte.blogspot.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">Eliseo Solís Mora </a>in la <span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;">Velada de Santa Lucía.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWA1Omsano_4sUHW2sKTmRLXWLI_cl7wCnkOPoLDYw_tmmqHyAl5OoVJMTaPT52tl5gCznKLuOwts8FFWaBWAE5uHfOT0zEgH7pigQxTYf6bwOZ5QFWBlwCzGxUBja3_G5NDy1yilxf-1M/s1600/textocuartorial.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWA1Omsano_4sUHW2sKTmRLXWLI_cl7wCnkOPoLDYw_tmmqHyAl5OoVJMTaPT52tl5gCznKLuOwts8FFWaBWAE5uHfOT0zEgH7pigQxTYf6bwOZ5QFWBlwCzGxUBja3_G5NDy1yilxf-1M/s1600/textocuartorial.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 700px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 456px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.rodellwarner.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">Rodell Warner</a> and I both took part in this project with self portraits. While there Eliseo, Rodell and I decided to also perform together. Below is the video; it is called <span style="font-weight: bold;">Silencio/ Silence</span>.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="500" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/21268676?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="667"></iframe></div>
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This performance had to with the difficulty and tension of communication as faced with differences. The piece was repeated randomly through the night. As visitors came in the house of Eliseo's exhibition to view his work we would engage in what may seem to be an aggressive argument. But it was not an argument only a simulation. We communicated in the most basic of ways; facial expressions, gestures, different tone and pitch and only one word- <span style="font-weight: bold;">Silence</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">/Silencio</span> - as a contradiction/ contrast to our chaotic action. Like the Tower of Babel we spoke different languages to each other but the more we spoke the more heated our interactions got as there was no message received through the communication. Instead what happened is that we became emotive and unintelligible; we shout, we repeat ourselves, and we laugh at each other to retreat/ return once more into our different worlds.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">For More information view the following links:</span><br />
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The beginning of the 'Girl In The Box Series'/ 'Serie de la <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">Niña</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">en</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">la Caja' can be found</span></span> on this <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2009/10/mtv.html" style="font-weight: bold;">link</a> and also<a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2009/10/tv-monologue.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> here</span></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br />The website for <span style="font-size: 100%;">la Velada de Santa Lucía:</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.velada-santa-lucia.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">http://www.velada-santa-lucia.com/</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOBMQTJIs1M">Video about la Velada de Santa Lucía</a></div>
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Links for Rodell Warner:<br />
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<a href="http://www.rodellwarner.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">http://www.rodellwarner.com/</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://freepaperblog.blogspot.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">http://freepaperblog.blogspot.com/</a><br />
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Links for Eliseo Solís Mora<br />
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<a href="http://espaciolevintanteapuntesdearte.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">http://espaciolevintanteapuntesdearte.blogspot.com/</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://territoriodesdibujado.blogspot.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">http://territoriodesdibujado.blogspot.com/</a><br />
<a href="http://eliseosolismora.tumblr.com/" style="font-weight: bold;"><br />http://eliseosolismora.tumblr.com/</a><em><br /></em><em></em></div>
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</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-67006478031653196582011-04-23T13:14:00.001-07:002012-05-31T00:59:52.493-07:00Camera-Walk #3<span style="font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;"></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGMyKJk4SG-YaO98R7jLOCqr01s6wxu61slN17_k7jcSariTrZK9Mk1IUDBwof01BWEgbqEloBWk5F7TnEdkR94kzFRbOVhzwNK2L1YQ4u4pKb2Y1DTl117ugtgA7DH3XR_9Uu8X6eJc/s1600/gogo.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598877357037124690" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGMyKJk4SG-YaO98R7jLOCqr01s6wxu61slN17_k7jcSariTrZK9Mk1IUDBwof01BWEgbqEloBWk5F7TnEdkR94kzFRbOVhzwNK2L1YQ4u4pKb2Y1DTl117ugtgA7DH3XR_9Uu8X6eJc/s400/gogo.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 501px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 376px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo by Gillian Moore</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Live Camera-Walk at the Museum</span><br />
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Soon after returning to Trinidad & Tobago I took part in the <span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">We The Artists TALK AND PERFORMANCE NIGHT </span>with a live Camera-Walk at The National Museum and Art Gallery of Trinidad and Tobago.<br /><br />More can be read at the following links:<br /></span><a href="http://beezandhoney.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-artists-talk-and-performance-night.html">http://beezandhoney.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-artists-talk-and-performance-night.html</a><br />
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and the local Guardian article on the event written by Gillian Moore<br />
<a href="http://guardian.co.tt/gillian-moore/2011/01/27/artists-come-together-panel-discussion"><br />http://guardian.co.tt/gillian-moore/2011/01/27/artists-come-together-panel-discussion</a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Sr1w7pF-TUhX4T3PQ0rmjsVk_Ko2Z_fOFt4Rpt0tildT9a0phvcOp4pW_605iCTEcQM-8jwuAqpPZBlIDSKIj_ptx2ATb2Uwb9s8SNkA5kRgZA-2s-aopHxfYu7psiIPFV4E3uCpB4EO/s1600/NMaAG+We+the+Artists+gallery+talk+and+performace+night+evite.jpg"></a><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span> </div>
</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-19379176129984088922011-04-19T16:32:00.002-07:002012-05-31T01:00:17.973-07:00PerfoChoroní V<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1jnA21a-Cd2aWx8gDmYsXfQHLGemg-bgwyPZ8KnQWB1-Q5iVDk6dJjr-nsjrZW5ZRg3yW6sYbhQOnT_6-9rNPztiSGnayIZBQkdrCK9-nEIWzkPFB1Cluf4ckGaMFJDdZRaugQLah60/s1600/hablando+sola.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597117675199941826" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1jnA21a-Cd2aWx8gDmYsXfQHLGemg-bgwyPZ8KnQWB1-Q5iVDk6dJjr-nsjrZW5ZRg3yW6sYbhQOnT_6-9rNPztiSGnayIZBQkdrCK9-nEIWzkPFB1Cluf4ckGaMFJDdZRaugQLah60/s400/hablando+sola.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 402px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 538px;" /></a></div>
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Photo by Alexander Escalona<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Hablando Sola: la tecnología crea personalidades múltiples/</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="messageBody">Talking To Myself: Technology creates multiple personalities</span></span></span><br />
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Como parte de <a href="http://perfochoroni.tripod.com/index.html" style="color: black;">PerfoChoroní</a> V, hablé sola. Es una performance que trata de la manera en que la <span lang="es-ES">tecnología</span> ha moldeado al ser humano. Es una auto<span lang="es-ES">transmisión</span> <span lang="es-ES">o una proyección de mi misma. Con la tecnología</span> <span lang="es-ES">puedo multiplicarme y con esto</span> <span lang="es-ES">también</span> <span lang="es-ES">plantear las</span><span lang="es-ES"> preguntas</span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"> existencial</span></span><span lang="es-ES">es: </span></div>
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<li>¿Cuál es la verdadera yo? <br />
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<li>¿Por qué estoy <span lang="es-ES">aquí?/ </span>¿Donde estoy?<br />
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<li>¿Cuál es la diferencia entre la vida virtual y la vida real?</li>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Aquí está el video de la performance</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/i1XTYHCctp8" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Above is the video of my performance at </span><a href="http://perfochoroni.tripod.com/index.html" style="color: black; font-weight: bold;">PerfoChoroní</a><span style="font-weight: bold;">, in Venezuela.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Hablando Sola: la tecnología crea personalidades múltiples/ Talking To Myself: Technology creates multiple personalities</span>. It deals with the way the self can be moulded by technology when the human being is transmitted via the internet. Once we are interacting with the internet we are engaging in an act of self projection by placing of ourselves within; on the outside we are also receiving. This interaction become so casual that we are not always conscious that we are both moulding the virtual space as much as we are being moulded by it. It becomes a social experience that blurrs the lines between reality and virtuality. With this form of (social)technology I can modify myself; such as through self multiplication and thereby also pose certain existential questions:</div>
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<li>Which one is the real me?</li>
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<li>Why am I here?/ Where am I ?</li>
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<li>What is the difference between the virtual and the real life?</li>
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Below is the video I used during the performance to find myself and then talk to myself. Both videos are one conversation between my three selves. Both videos are each a self and the self that I was when I performed it live is yet another.</div>
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It is called <span style="font-weight: bold;">I am Too Happy To Tell You</span>. The video is a spontaneous reaction that sometimes occurs while consuming virtuality and loosing the ability to distinguish what is real from what is not. I know I have lost my capacity when I react in very real, visceral ways like crying. I had a combustion of tears that I did not want to loose because it can be evidence to prove my suspicion that technology can manipulate us, so I hit record. Like a confrontation meant to accuse I gave it my tears. It is a gift; the product of our interactions and so I feed the machine the way it has fed me.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/X5_neyznRMo" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
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Arriba esta el video que use durante el performance para <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">encontrarme a mí mismo</span></span> y después hablar sola. Entonces los dos videos son una <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">conversación con tres </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">versiónes de </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">mí mismo</span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">. Cada video son una </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">versión y cuando lo hice en vivo fue otra </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">versión.</span></span><br />
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En<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"> español</span></span>, quiero decir, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Soy Demasiada Feliz Que Ni Te Lo Puedo Decir</span>. El video es una <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">reacción </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">espontánea que se ocurre a veces cuando consumo a lo virtual y pierdo la abilidad de diferenciar que es real con lo que no es. Yo se cuando eso pasa porque tengo </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">reacciónes muy fuerte y visceral como llorar. Esto sucedio cuando hice este video y yo no </span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">quería</span></span> perder el momento, entonces lo grabe. Yo <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">quería preservar mis lagrimas y regresarlo al internet como un regalo para el </span></span>dueño, porque desde allí se vienieron. El internet es el responsable y el culpable, y yo lo alimento como se me alimenta <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">también.</span></span></div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-63093306924390864052011-04-19T14:32:00.001-07:002012-05-31T01:00:40.479-07:00Camera Walk #2<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 180%;"></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 180%;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaXOAbLXkbWgFP7d3CqbEWJLg_f2mHtma9eza6wN-gkfA9x3L5s4jvSIPRFgFrcBY6Nsz7WILiQeHIp3RB5LkyzTLefdBKaoz0YnqvoB1Z9qU4QRGH9oguKi1YLc5HQuuqHnLDZR9LyE/s1600/camerawalkvene.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597443078777557218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaXOAbLXkbWgFP7d3CqbEWJLg_f2mHtma9eza6wN-gkfA9x3L5s4jvSIPRFgFrcBY6Nsz7WILiQeHIp3RB5LkyzTLefdBKaoz0YnqvoB1Z9qU4QRGH9oguKi1YLc5HQuuqHnLDZR9LyE/s320/camerawalkvene.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 522px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 392px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo by Alexander Escalona</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Camera Walk #2, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Choroní- Venezuela </span><br />
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This is from the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Camera Walk</span> I did during <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2011/04/hablando-sola-la-tecnologia-crea.html">PerfoChoroní V</a>. It was a spontaneous act inspired by the chaos of the night, crowds and noise.<br />
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Esto es de cuando c<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">aminé</span></span> con una<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"> cámara sobre mi ojo durante el </span></span>PerfoChoroní V. <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">Fue</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">un</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">acto</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">espontáneo</span></span> inspirado por todo el caos de la noche, <span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">las multitudes</span></span> de gente y los ruidos.<br />
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<b>V FESTIVAL INTERNACIONAL DE PERFORMANCE CHORONI 2010 - 2011</b>“<span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><b>en</b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><i><b>FLUX </b></i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><b>act</b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><i><b>US</b></i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><b>”</b></span></span></span><b>(eventos del arte que vuelve a la vida)</b><span style="font-weight: bold;">/ 5th International Performance Festival, Choroní 2010- 2011- “</span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><b>en</b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><i><b>FLUX </b></i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><b>act</b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><i><b>US</b></i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Futura;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span lang="es-MX"><b>” ( Art events that return to Life)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></b></span></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkCgx555tKd4CKc1NWtB1S0Yi-Acce9u5Ic9iBUwJEnvbk4iEKYDc3YCpon37EadaZLgd14C3TayG1cyJVyU59ASBESnk8mx7VMAiuwC0Iai2eQJySB2pdc7nHe9Y-msEe_2RxDzGE3w/s1600/afiche.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598633628565862706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkCgx555tKd4CKc1NWtB1S0Yi-Acce9u5Ic9iBUwJEnvbk4iEKYDc3YCpon37EadaZLgd14C3TayG1cyJVyU59ASBESnk8mx7VMAiuwC0Iai2eQJySB2pdc7nHe9Y-msEe_2RxDzGE3w/s400/afiche.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 437px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 291px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">PerfoChoroní</span> is a performance festival rooted and inspired by the<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fluxus"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Fluxus</span></a> movement. Fluxus developed in the 1960's in the U.S.A. and parts of Europe as an immediacy to find elemental modes of expression. It was a time of many changes; war and revolution- and likewise the changes of the time were represented in art through Dada, Surrealism, Fluxus and more. Each of these had in common the desire and ability to free the artist as a creative being more than ever before. This was during new influences such as Sigmund Freud's writings on the subconscious, super ego, ego and id. They used the theory in ways in attempt to make it relevant and practical to everyone. And so the definition of art was greatly challenged and it became decidedly very ordinary to illustrate that art can exist in anything especially the most absurd, mundane and quotidian.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">The following is information provided about Fluxus by the organizers of </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">PerfoChoroní</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">De hecho vivimos en una “escultura social” y se lo debemos al </span></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX"><i><b>FLUXUS</b></i></span></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">las posibilidades de entenderlo. Las consecuencias de este descubrimiento son profundas e inevitables y nos plantean preguntas más que afirmaciones: </span></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">¿Si las sociedades humanas son esculturas qué somos los hombres que vivimos en ellas?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">¿Cuerpos pasivos o activos de la transformación que está en marcha?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX"> ¿Qué papel juega el arte la performance en la revolución que tiene lugar en nuestra escultura?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">¿Somos todos artistas o solo los que tienen talento?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">¿Y cuál es el arte que está porvenir: profundo y elitesco o simple y elemental?</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">And so we live in a 'social sculpture' and we owe the possibility to interrogate this sculpture to the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Fluxus.</span> The concequences of this descovery are profound and inevitable and we form questions more than answers:</span></span><br />
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX"> If human societies are sculpture what are the humans living within it?</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">Are we passive bodies or active agents of transformation that is already happening?</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">What role does performance art play in our social sculpture?</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">Are we all artists? or Only the ones with discernible talent?</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX">And what is the art of the future? profound and elitist or simple and elemental?</span></span></div>
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For more info on <span style="font-weight: bold;">Fluxus</span> check the following links:<br />
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<a href="http://www.artnotart.com/fluxus/index.html">WWW.ARTNOTART.COM</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.fluxus.org/">WWW.FLUXUX.ORG</a><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span lang="es-MX"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="es"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"></span><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"></span><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"></span><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"></span></span><br />
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<br /></div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-3129736773681943472011-04-18T19:06:00.003-07:002012-07-10T19:37:36.916-07:00Camera Walk #1<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 180%;"></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0T0cDvfdLBKYSrrfN8H0g1EsUEUipS_4GyrIcgGjd-v4ImQoIQtov7JgsJGpMMDWEz5NPeqBaVrZSrv_wuswELYFwHsfW5w1C8QzPcZyqCum9wAP73dCWjgFH3xrK05MH7qrA7-0n3M/s1600/camerafacej.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597419625076403506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0T0cDvfdLBKYSrrfN8H0g1EsUEUipS_4GyrIcgGjd-v4ImQoIQtov7JgsJGpMMDWEz5NPeqBaVrZSrv_wuswELYFwHsfW5w1C8QzPcZyqCum9wAP73dCWjgFH3xrK05MH7qrA7-0n3M/s400/camerafacej.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 352px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 228px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Camera Walk #3, Berlin- Germany</span><br />
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This was part of my process in preparation for the final performance of the Performance Art Studies (P.A.S.) workshop. <span style="font-size: 100%;">Feeling completely isolated and anonymous compelled me to record every fleeting moment as I was experiencing it. I went into different shops asking people I met to help me tape the camera to my head covering one eye. This exercise was a means to submerge myself even more fully into my experience as an outsider. It is an anxious impulse that helps articulate a variety of feelings and so I have decided to continue this activity in different cities that I travel to. However I will do it only in a state of anxiety and so the camera becomes a mask or bandage over myself. It is to protect myself but also to record that which causes me discomfort. </span>To record something is to conquer it somewhat as I trap and preserve it for future reference in a small mechanical device. Through this process I render reality less a thing of terror.<br />
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On returning to Trinidad & Tobago I started editing the footage and it was then used in the<span style="font-weight: bold;"> We The Artists</span> exhibition curated by <a href="http://beezandhoney.blogspot.com/" style="color: black;">Nicollette Ramirez</a>. Below is the video <span style="font-weight: bold;">Penetrative/ Berlin</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="500" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/20088501?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="667"></iframe></div>
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The video can also be seen at <a href="http://www.2visual4arts.no/">http://www.2visual4arts.no/</a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">More on the exhibition can be read here:</span><br />
<a href="http://rhizome.org/announce/events/56719/" style="color: black;">http://rhizome.org/announce/events/56719/</a></div>
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Since then, I have conducted two more <span style="font-weight: bold;">Camera Walks</span>; one in <span class="Estilo6">Choroní Venezuela during</span> <a href="http://perfochoroni.tripod.com/index.html" style="color: black;">PerfoChoroní</a><span class="Estilo6"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>and the other at the National Museum of Trinidad as another contribution to the <a href="http://michelleisava.blogspot.com/2011/04/camera-walk-3.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">We The Artists</span></a> exhibition.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Sr1w7pF-TUhX4T3PQ0rmjsVk_Ko2Z_fOFt4Rpt0tildT9a0phvcOp4pW_605iCTEcQM-8jwuAqpPZBlIDSKIj_ptx2ATb2Uwb9s8SNkA5kRgZA-2s-aopHxfYu7psiIPFV4E3uCpB4EO/s1600/NMaAG+We+the+Artists+gallery+talk+and+performace+night+evite.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuAI90rcrg56Q-4Ctc0gREeasMocWD2cbT5yWEOjCyZy6CG27QrgroJejVMhfxpnMoH53BaRrkP8JFZ89FrC-pgj-ZKERtO5zYId4_80UQOR0lUBdeNFFp2S73EaiwNRPL65yKpMkugSH/s1600/NMaAG+%25E2%2580%2593+We+the+Artists+evite.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuAI90rcrg56Q-4Ctc0gREeasMocWD2cbT5yWEOjCyZy6CG27QrgroJejVMhfxpnMoH53BaRrkP8JFZ89FrC-pgj-ZKERtO5zYId4_80UQOR0lUBdeNFFp2S73EaiwNRPL65yKpMkugSH/s1600/NMaAG+%25E2%2580%2593+We+the+Artists+evite.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 847px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 623px;" /></a><br />
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</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-10822231725177505412010-12-07T18:57:00.003-08:002012-03-22T00:45:07.073-07:00Performance Art Studies (P.A.S.)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6Om8fCGraPNHmc3W50NYyZQB4iz4vzMawzOv8mEFu8bVPDUvRhoW9PqwmDspUu1mLCUXQfYaC9nrtJuNSTAjtCkgK3pG6pVY6-G2vv16oRTcYcoBl5Y0m71AiXZ4eWrTUPpUVipk_AY/s1600/vvv.jpg"></a> <div align="left"><strong></strong><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:180%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 589px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 342px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548143383880898098" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7q_tAckU-SAnTZCF33upyVPdTvK4BvmaM4Pvv0y3yzCYquB7zLpcLRZmc5wAMnwP5oR3VmZsVsj6DKVGp73k7NFkWMQtQTVx8f2USBgYzb_ZDZ3iDhkIQFFZioKQwSRNAQNjBHgU0jAk/s400/IMG_7220+3.JPG" border="0" /> <p style="font-family: times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Photo by <a href="http://www.matthiaspick.de/Welcome.html">Matthias Pick</a><br /></span></p><div style="font-family: times new roman;" align="justify"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>Self Projection</strong> a piece about myself</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">performed at the <a href="http://www.kunstfabrik.org/english.html">Kunstfabrik am Flutgraben</a> as the final part of the Performance Art Studies (P.A.S.) workshop that I was attending in Berlin, Germany. It was led by <a href="http://www.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/">BBB Johannes Deimling</a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">. Your self is only visible the further it is from the space it has spent the most time. So the first time; the furthest away I went from all I knew is the closest I ever felt to it.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong></strong></span></div><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><p style="font-family: times new roman;" align="justify"><span style="font-size:100%;">It is influenced by my first experience traveling outside of Venezuela and, or Trinidad & Tobago while also being about both places. It is done with very strict order, props and actions. It is a neurotic transference of ingested learnings and symbols about my identity. Being there allowed me the space to project and contrast these ideas. Ultimately in a foreign space, in the contrast of relevance and context it was allowed to become questions. I am a question with many plausible answers from the many peoples who are all grappling with similar issues. As much as each offers temporary comfort none offers truth. Truth is poor and fragmented.<br /><br />Part of the final performance was the footage from my first <strong>Camera Walks</strong> exercise while in Berlin. It consists of strapping a mini video recording device to one of my eyes in order to capture what I see exactly as I see it. My performance involved interacting with the projected footage of the foreign city and also having it projected on my nude body. I imitated the way I originally looked at all that was new; with awe, abandon, lots of jerky movements of the head and slow movements of the body. I used it not only to recreate a personal moment but also to illustrate how experience is based in the body. If it remains there it can easily be lost as it is one day forgotten; the footage serves to preserve the moment. What was once in the body can now always be remembered through mechanical reproduction and also what is now on the body now makes us One-a merging of mechanical reproduction, memory, experience and Body-as One we both make and unmake each other as reality: The uncomfortable machine, machinating body...</span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;" align="justify"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >For more info</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >rmation</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" > on the workshop view these links: </span><span style="text-decoration: underline;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/index.php?/workshops/what-is-important--berlin--2010/">What is Important?</a></span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Performance Art Studies website:</span></p><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><a href="http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/">http://pas.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/</a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br />Johannes Deimling website:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/">http://www.bbbjohannesdeimling.de/</a><br /><br />Matthias Pick website:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.matthiaspick.de/Welcome.html">http://www.matthiaspick.de/Welcome.html</a></span><br /></span><p align="center"></p></span>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-84082358532671941362010-08-02T19:18:00.000-07:002012-05-31T01:01:32.451-07:004th Red Earth<span style="font-size: 180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2UhNvQcjvTlradpG6_qEtfNDJSX-5H0FFN7cNmn0WIBmYjOZyttjFa42cuzi9OojkOMfzM4z3yGiIwmCqZlJOjpWVaTRBMWN3pWbZSVAzvwj7MWfp30kO6u3SgDBkrhj5pRwEt0GaeI/s1600/FB.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501004088821609794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2UhNvQcjvTlradpG6_qEtfNDJSX-5H0FFN7cNmn0WIBmYjOZyttjFa42cuzi9OojkOMfzM4z3yGiIwmCqZlJOjpWVaTRBMWN3pWbZSVAzvwj7MWfp30kO6u3SgDBkrhj5pRwEt0GaeI/s400/FB.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 434px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 662px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%;">For <a href="http://www.redearthfestival.webs.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">Red Earth2010</a></span><span style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold;">: Running Water</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"> I collaborated with <a href="http://jemimacharles.blogspot.com/">Jemima Charles</a> to recreate a shared memory we had at Blanchicheuse beach Trinidad and Tobago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Death making its journey from the river to the Sea/Everything returns to the Ocean's embrace.<br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 130%;">We witnessed a dead leather back turtle impossibly move through the river while it was shallow and narrow to go back to the ocean. Jemima made the water element in the form of the flags placed on the perimeter of the river and I created a floating form to represent the turtle on its journey.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: 130%;"><br />More images can be seen on my Flickr <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_isava/sets/72157624186684331/">photostream</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_L6J1Qxcg_u9MIkHSsrppW_i7Y8hijJBMoJMaytwrUIpByhL7zE_7f_ROQslTCdtXrYpfwjecDnIoNb5qXGnVir-_1istritfLo1Azp5DmjD_GTEQ8PqZjSQdg_Fk-ujHPq_7NQZXFw/s1600/Red+Earth+Festival+2010+Programme.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598871303474329938" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_L6J1Qxcg_u9MIkHSsrppW_i7Y8hijJBMoJMaytwrUIpByhL7zE_7f_ROQslTCdtXrYpfwjecDnIoNb5qXGnVir-_1istritfLo1Azp5DmjD_GTEQ8PqZjSQdg_Fk-ujHPq_7NQZXFw/s400/Red+Earth+Festival+2010+Programme.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 550px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 427px;" /></a><br />
designed by <a href="http://www.tanyamariewilliams.com/">Tanya Marie Williams</a></div>
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<br /></div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-69473298413158108972010-08-02T17:17:00.001-07:002011-04-25T19:24:35.209-07:00Low Lives #2<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeQyVHd9Cki0ZsBJK8VsuueebX3mahNyO8dUH6DEphRZo0k9EB4A5ahxL_O9FGn8wor6U0CHxufuuxXHv2CHrSZjPbtMB7nAOY6xb3piDKUckXVl94NZT6hfFi9Erkrl7l1-Cs3Xec3A/s1600/Untitled.MSWMMproy_0001_0001.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 674px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 490px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500981604280788418" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeQyVHd9Cki0ZsBJK8VsuueebX3mahNyO8dUH6DEphRZo0k9EB4A5ahxL_O9FGn8wor6U0CHxufuuxXHv2CHrSZjPbtMB7nAOY6xb3piDKUckXVl94NZT6hfFi9Erkrl7l1-Cs3Xec3A/s400/Untitled.MSWMMproy_0001_0001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" ></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" ></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" ></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" ></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" ></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" ></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:100%;" >En_Cell</span> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The Body embodies... It is a sponge that has the potential to reveal every experience with every sub atomic particle; it is all present and willing to betray or reveal what has been buried within.<br /><br />'<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">En Cell</span>' is a reference to my room and the basic structural unit of all organisms. The obscurity, vulnerability, and spontaneity of this piece are like the cell in terms of how little we actually know about ourselves yet the Cell is our basic fabric- our everything and our basic desire to connect and communicate.<br /><br />During the performance, through regular status updates on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#%21/profile.php?id=556750331">Facebook,</a> I asked for people to call my cell phone in order to make my performance interactive while emphasizing the message of communication and connection.<br /><br />This was my contribution to Low Lives2. The performance fell on the last day of the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Proximities</span> show at <a href="http://aliceyard.blogspot.com/2010/04/proximities-continues.html">Alice Yard</a>, however during my performance they took the time to be part of it by logging on to the site to watch it, by calling my cell and by interacting on the live chat service on the <a href="http://www.ustream.tv/channel/low-lives-2">ustream site</a><br /></div><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yOXbW8DubzM&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yOXbW8DubzM&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />The video for En_Cell<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">By exploiting technology for its capacity to transmit, blur the context; the medium becomes the message. It illustrates that technology has a way of distorting humans; making us almost non-existent as it warps reality and makes humans more and more dependent on technology for social interaction.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw61nir0uzny1f3_pyFwUU5MdmFzqder9qvtdTPtPBrDxYenUgHad8Gowwg8lOqsHjoL12vrUG4toMAmbdfdes05gpntViUOoXlxD-xecVhfohUMT-RTujEhKM_zPRnF8V-xtmuhfWIq4/s1600/LowLives2_Flyer_front.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 691px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500983895020812034" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw61nir0uzny1f3_pyFwUU5MdmFzqder9qvtdTPtPBrDxYenUgHad8Gowwg8lOqsHjoL12vrUG4toMAmbdfdes05gpntViUOoXlxD-xecVhfohUMT-RTujEhKM_zPRnF8V-xtmuhfWIq4/s400/LowLives2_Flyer_front.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Low Lives</strong> is an exhibition of live performance-based works by artists from different parts of the world and projected in real time at <em>FiveMyles</em> in Brooklyn, NY; <em>Diaspora Vibe Gallery</em> in Miami, FL; and <em>labotanica</em>, Houston, TX. <strong>Low Lives</strong> is curated by Jorge Rojas.<br />(From the site <a href="http://turbulence.org/blog/2009/06/24/low-lives-call-for-artists/">http://turbulence.org/blog/2009/06/24/low-lives-call-for-artists/</a>)<br /><br />More information can be seen on the Low Lives website, <a href="http://www.lowlives.net/">http://www.lowlives.net/</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgToIudxHuEO5rclhddpqU8vin2eCFR8dNTGEUB3zoKDE9FCecNBx43y2PiDDjbMaFm9Dxj54KQvBQuM8cheUJBGlFjc9827A2nzSTJhpdnOJN112WXOC3jT1DS27lSbaLgcEbLT-4ByPM/s1600/LowLives2_Flyer_back.jpg"><br /></a>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-5593486231232593292010-08-02T15:58:00.000-07:002011-04-19T16:14:47.388-07:002do Acción en Vivo y Diferido<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Interceder por las Siluetas Silenciosas:<br />The Silent Silhouettes in the 2do Acción en Vivo y Diferido</span></span><br /><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://docs.google.com/File?id=dfvrbxbj_332hcwtknj7_b"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 732px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 545px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://docs.google.com/File?id=dfvrbxbj_332hcwtknj7_b" border="0" /></a><br />The video from Silent Silhouettes got accepted into the second <i style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><span style="font-size:-0;">Acción en Vivo y Diferido</span></b></span></span></i><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">, Colombia. It is an annual performance festival held in Colombia. In 2010 it took place from the 27th of Febuary to the 28th of March. The festival offers three ways to participate; either a link to a performance video can be sent, a performance can be live streamed or a performance can be done live where the event was based, in Usaquen.</span></p><p><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">The video is featured on <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/2doaccionenvivoydiferido/mediatizadas/michelleisava">https://sites.google.com/site/2doaccionenvivoydiferido/mediatizadas/michelleisava</a></span><br /></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgclZF5VtHvm_J6yurTby1x_sClJyPgbbuxmr9eUunBT1B5UWjxfRPpnbQ4fFXZlp2toigp5h3NiXWrOLqRRJL8-T7FYFZZRGl_d1dybO0RDSGeg1Q42Vb3AlKKQ4jM51yvOFFLDcBe0GI/s1600/n120729581273921_4558.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 208px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 608px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500958498282922674" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgclZF5VtHvm_J6yurTby1x_sClJyPgbbuxmr9eUunBT1B5UWjxfRPpnbQ4fFXZlp2toigp5h3NiXWrOLqRRJL8-T7FYFZZRGl_d1dybO0RDSGeg1Q42Vb3AlKKQ4jM51yvOFFLDcBe0GI/s400/n120729581273921_4558.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><i><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0);font-size:100%;" >Para esta segunda versión de <span style="font-size:130%;"><b><span style="font-size:-0;">Acción en Vivo y Diferido</span></b></span> habitaremos la Localidad de Usaquén, en miras de explorar las fronteras nómadas que sus transeúntes construyen como agentes sociales de dicho territorio. Además planteamos el Encuentro en espacios públicos con el objetivo de subvertir sus dinámicas sociales, resignificar sus geografías simbólicas e imaginanarios intersubjetivos. Es por esto que las coordenadas conceptuales para esta iniciativa fronteriza, es ejercer el acto creativo desde un empoderamiento de lo ciudadano de una manera crítica, poética y efímera, trastocando las relaciones de biopoder que configuran la cotidianidad social y el habitar dicha localidad.</span></i><br />(from the site: <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/2doaccionenvivoydiferido/home">https://sites.google.com/site/2doaccionenvivoydiferido/home</a>) </div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-49516944108265575562010-08-02T13:51:00.000-07:002015-05-06T07:26:16.815-07:00Proyecto Capital<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4031/4292863355_713376470b.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4031/4292863355_713376470b.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 435px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 581px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/abassi/4292863355/">Alejandro Mina</a></span></div>
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I met visiting artists <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/29658232@N04/">Mar Molano</a> and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/abassi/">Alejandro Mina</a> from Columbia here studying English. Through our interactions I got to experience Trinidad & Tobago in new ways as pseudo-host and I also got to experience my own Latin identity as pseudo-interpreter. Based on the time we spent together we decided to collaborate on a project documenting some of our experiences around finding coins on the street.</div>
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We called it <span style="font-weight: bold;">Proyecto Capital</span> and it was shared at <a href="http://aliceyard.blogspot.com/2009/11/proyecto-capital.html">Alice Yard</a>. We showed a map that showed where all of the coins were found; we showed a mound of all the coins collected; and a slide show of photos of the coins when they were found.<br />
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This, <a href="http://proyectocapital09.blogspot.com/">http://proyectocapital09.blogspot.com/</a>, is the blog we created to document our process and the event.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Proyecto Capital</span><br />
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This project is based on observation. On our daily route through Port of Spain it is possible to find a large amount of money in the streets. Apparently insignificant to the local eye but to the foreign eye it suggests a comparison with the city they came from, Bogota, and other cities. The idea is to collect the money and document the process to later make an installation. It seeks to make one reflect on the gesture of throwing<br />
away coins and collecting them to then re-insert them in the society; changing its capital value for a symbolic one.</div>
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M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-61999970611138259622010-07-30T17:36:00.001-07:002012-03-22T00:41:57.747-07:00Erotic Art Week<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71dWPaqXQ5qEnZ3KLJ6SqWWyg_ePZsMLGwtXxBY6jWiVq_Dr1KTVfS7gmSlfP_1NgXszfHLCPyJj_rAFYcT3604zbOxglFoS4TRv4YTQGlcRLIvX4cnCx9wKE2bkVKHZGjehqtkQ5UnE/s1600/PRINT4.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 438px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 739px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501028577477394834" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71dWPaqXQ5qEnZ3KLJ6SqWWyg_ePZsMLGwtXxBY6jWiVq_Dr1KTVfS7gmSlfP_1NgXszfHLCPyJj_rAFYcT3604zbOxglFoS4TRv4YTQGlcRLIvX4cnCx9wKE2bkVKHZGjehqtkQ5UnE/s400/PRINT4.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">lingum- the sacred male sexuality</span><br /><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">This painting was shown at Soft Box Studios for the first <a href="http://davecan.squarespace.com/erotic-art-guide-2009/"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Erotic Art Week</span></a> in Trinidad & Tobago. It was originally from the series called, <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">The Temple of Local Sexuality</span> from 2008.<br /></div><br />More can be read about Erotic Art Week on their blog, <a href="http://eroticartweektt.blogspot.com/">http://eroticartweektt.blogspot.com/</a><br /><br />Below is the interview for the show<br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1nBYRW7dL0U&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1nBYRW7dL0U&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br />There was also a review done in the Trinidad & Tobago Review, it can be read <a href="http://www.tntreview.com/?m=20090706">here.</a>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-26257263886673326682010-07-30T17:33:00.002-07:002012-05-31T01:06:38.896-07:003rd Red Earth<span style="font-size: 180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1YaHYqaMx21Ftz-WS7XEB0czANUbYVMpLeP0o9oEkzhgoPUdsPhMC_rbq_p7Hgrg2mtRoI-RtjfxCBpqXPTg5S1BPoT8wB6jUK0uSGwU614aOBUQ_5-FP-PG4VYP1uS9_mqTNdNtctA/s1600/reddy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501317045121351250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1YaHYqaMx21Ftz-WS7XEB0czANUbYVMpLeP0o9oEkzhgoPUdsPhMC_rbq_p7Hgrg2mtRoI-RtjfxCBpqXPTg5S1BPoT8wB6jUK0uSGwU614aOBUQ_5-FP-PG4VYP1uS9_mqTNdNtctA/s400/reddy.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 544px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 310px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Heart of my Alter</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">For Red Earth 2009: Dream time</span> I sought to transform the wall of shelves from the Mystic Masseur house into an altar; it is spelled Alter to signify that it is about process/change/transfiguration. I used natural objects, found objects and personal objects for the transformation of the space.<br />
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<a href="http://www.redearthfestival.webs.com/">Red Earth</a> is an Eco-Arts festival celebrated every year in Trinidad & Tobago since 2007. This is the second time I took part; last year I was in a group piece choreographed by Sonja Dumas. Her piece was about the preciousness of water.<br />
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</div>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-74429767347631746812010-07-25T10:00:00.001-07:002012-05-31T01:04:05.178-07:00Carnival: Girl in the Box<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGa-2EBP6lciBZCC3v88ZghtIOMOUwS6J1xKk330kx_nkTajGiG2tf6hiw9PK-qiJoDWtmVGIWLxQdWjqpyDDpsYqobCpJdfygF_YOHuc8BeR3P7Wv2Z2UMQ6Jtu4rgKjmnrbqtsnKYs/s1600/100_0749.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497881835286916594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGa-2EBP6lciBZCC3v88ZghtIOMOUwS6J1xKk330kx_nkTajGiG2tf6hiw9PK-qiJoDWtmVGIWLxQdWjqpyDDpsYqobCpJdfygF_YOHuc8BeR3P7Wv2Z2UMQ6Jtu4rgKjmnrbqtsnKYs/s400/100_0749.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 359px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 483px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">'A Camera to Capture You With'</span><br />
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The Carnival Celebrations in Trinidad and Tobago cause me panic, tension and discomfort. In 2009 I decided to surrender myself to those feelings. I came out on to the streets dressed in a full length tunic, a mask/ box on my head and a camcorder strapped to my chest. I was dressed prepared for a symbolic confrontation. I was completely covered, so I was invisible but I had a camera to record every threatening moment that is the<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 'Parade of the Bands'</span>.<br />
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All I did was follow the follow the bands as did many others who would not pay an exorbitant amount to play Mas barely dressed and within the barrier of rope and security guards. Some people interacted with me and surprisingly it was not too threatening. As I walked between crowds some people played the top of my box-head as a drum and others, much later in the night tried to get me to take it off. Surprisingly none of this bothered me; it was expected and somehow pleasant to have this kind of interaction.<br />
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This character functioned as a vessel to see and record but not be seen itself. The sensory experience were as traumatic as could be imagined. It was hot being covered completely; it was uncomfortable having to constantly adjust the costume; it was difficult to see through the eye-holes in the box and the music from the trucks were unbearably loud. Most astonishing was that the other people's behavior was not in any was assaulting to me. Somehow all my armor made me feel safe in the chaos. I was able to view them objectively as if I was watching them on t.v. , they were all 'nobodys' who could do me nothing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjXdBY_BzYUaO38AEnMkVbCjjVWHYLlrNoenaxhaEmronqFEqp1ZMclIXqIMBBdemNIbU3F0HrShtcW8MsSKJcwWSfYYb0FoWjtQI_0agN4IWMZKVw7gGrpmOYSxk9nTyT6gMqzoZF4lY/s1600/100_0727.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497888634281641058" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjXdBY_BzYUaO38AEnMkVbCjjVWHYLlrNoenaxhaEmronqFEqp1ZMclIXqIMBBdemNIbU3F0HrShtcW8MsSKJcwWSfYYb0FoWjtQI_0agN4IWMZKVw7gGrpmOYSxk9nTyT6gMqzoZF4lY/s400/100_0727.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 297px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me in Costume during the Carnival in Woodbrook</span></div>
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Interestingly I learned much later in the year that Box Mas is another Traditional Mas that is almost completely extinct. In 2010 Adele Todd performed another version of it. More on her portrayal can be read on her blog <a href="http://adeletodd.wordpress.com/">http://adeletodd.wordpress.com/</a><br />
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At the end of the year I put for sale some of the documentation of this work at the <a href="http://aliceyard.blogspot.com/2009/12/at-alice-yard-shop-opening.html">Alice Yard Shop opening</a>. Photos from the event can be seen on the Caribbean Free Photo's Flickr <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/georgiap/4200131586/in/photostream/">Photostream</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/georgiap/4200131586/in/photostream/"></a>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-43613867698864705562010-07-25T09:59:00.000-07:002012-05-31T01:06:17.188-07:00Sugar Baby Doll<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYV4dKDW0OBIa-WBC7M7BS4HTUBnc06Ki_vacd0N5zAfchJYsQDZ1xAHdTAsx_gRJxykXsZlg1L2lZ4uZXDReFs0OK59_S5IJgUsmDgmRekQQASuo0KaKe4AW_HHAQwe3Tt8aUqdTJsPE/s1600/camera+173.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497876807037504210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYV4dKDW0OBIa-WBC7M7BS4HTUBnc06Ki_vacd0N5zAfchJYsQDZ1xAHdTAsx_gRJxykXsZlg1L2lZ4uZXDReFs0OK59_S5IJgUsmDgmRekQQASuo0KaKe4AW_HHAQwe3Tt8aUqdTJsPE/s400/camera+173.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 525px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 525px;" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo by Arnaldo James<br />'Sugar Baby Doll'</span><br />
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In 2009 I performed versions of the Traditional Mas Character: <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Baby Doll</span>. I performed it first at Victoria Square P.O.S. and the second time at U.W.I. St. Augustine Campus for Taking Back the Night.<br />
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The character is dressed like a doll in frills and other decorations. In her arms she carries a doll which symbolizes a baby born out of marriage. The masquerader stops men in the audience accusing them of being the baby's father; and confronting them with their responsibility she asks, 'Where de Money?'<br />
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Performers can take as much license as they want with the script what remains constant is the crowd interaction; accusing males of being the irresponsible father of their child. In my piece I became a pregnant school girl who was in a relationship with a 'Sugar Daddy' but he left 'me' once I revealed I was pregnant for him.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynAskbkBCSyGTSFC6ATpNwQSLWwIY0TtDvc0sEL-sZExkv-jyRWdGfF4IahMkzEcdK9csDT9p5-na9brtdZ4AO52c98A6ddFrLj6z-FgzFZSXHPNsdFSgp4CC0frRd3FTrubuQrdQqOw/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498038940166750866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynAskbkBCSyGTSFC6ATpNwQSLWwIY0TtDvc0sEL-sZExkv-jyRWdGfF4IahMkzEcdK9csDT9p5-na9brtdZ4AO52c98A6ddFrLj6z-FgzFZSXHPNsdFSgp4CC0frRd3FTrubuQrdQqOw/s400/Untitled-1.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 518px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 460px;" /></a>Photos by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aanarudo">Arnaldo James</a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">'Pretending to be Happy!'</span></div>
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The Second time I played Baby Doll it was at U.W.I.'s Taking Back the Night. There was a march, vigil and rally. I did a performance called<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 'Pretending to be Happy!'</span> . It was motivated by the recent abuses (many that ended in death) of women and children that were reported in the media.</div>
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Video of <span style="font-weight: bold;">'Pretending to be Happy!'</span><br />
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More photos from both events can be seen at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_isava/sets/72157624578237550/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_isava/sets/72157624578237550/</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnnP4Jr7Sg5hrIZygFi6oT3a0XJ9WAX6fmLvvooO4Y75D1H_mHquHO7r0onI2RaBd9I9Zd0xMYYQ6353HrcMaoXAyJo83LweYO5LBqY5Dixnnn1rl0n5cvG3EXNgp4NvDXC1foJN3Bns/s1600/taking+back+the+night.jpg"><br /></a>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795198684238534617.post-14337587717462767092010-07-25T09:26:00.000-07:002011-04-25T19:14:25.674-07:00Marked For Life<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnV_L4hS91qRgf8AhTd8xTZcymXNzfNmvZrMjOUtPG119qcuCCFO6idplclslBy0XyzN2bTPx5zpFf8YaRGkBJgFJyen66TQAW2Qq_glqb0yQ7mbvG0334K2eA_hVVoygOfyT-AcalHU0/s1600/marks8.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 477px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnV_L4hS91qRgf8AhTd8xTZcymXNzfNmvZrMjOUtPG119qcuCCFO6idplclslBy0XyzN2bTPx5zpFf8YaRGkBJgFJyen66TQAW2Qq_glqb0yQ7mbvG0334K2eA_hVVoygOfyT-AcalHU0/s400/marks8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497331700843692706" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="ES"><span style="font-weight: bold;">‘Marked for Life’</span> is a literal and extreme depiction of Susan Bordo’s statement that Patriarchy damages the female body. In it I perform a ritual of marking myself by various means with self- cutting as the climax. These marks represent the different ways men are capable of marking the female body. The marks also parallel the permanent damage that women can experience in both subtle and overt ways as a result of patriarchy.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="ES">This is my second 'play' after '<span style="font-weight: bold;">The Machine</span>', (performed in 2008). The performance is divided into three scenes and is directed by a self produced audio track. It was performed at <a href="http://www.aliceyard.blogspot.com/">Alice Yard.</a><br /></span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-PkT1R4MnZWQ35xowXjzlNIAhpvnYFxNzGdPBh8iCUYVhuRFBIU48LM3McJREuUQGHfPLbrUw1AVjYFVr8ouzEThrIcIIx9nyYJgqR-4KHjRubmG4uCPNvPTRH6S_x1k2HJ3M1_GznE/s1600/marks2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 457px; height: 642px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-PkT1R4MnZWQ35xowXjzlNIAhpvnYFxNzGdPBh8iCUYVhuRFBIU48LM3McJREuUQGHfPLbrUw1AVjYFVr8ouzEThrIcIIx9nyYJgqR-4KHjRubmG4uCPNvPTRH6S_x1k2HJ3M1_GznE/s400/marks2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497336237230621714" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 200%;"><b style=""><span lang="ES"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A play in three scenes</span><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><b style=""><span lang="ES">Scene One</span></b><span lang="ES">: I begin with a confrontation of the self as a reflection; with a glass screen in between myself and a mirror. I do a pathetic back and forwards step of trying to get through the glass to get to the mirror. The cam corder feeds a projection of the back of my head creating a disorienting effect as it seems to swing back and forth right next to the actual image of me facing the crowd stepping back and forth, awkwardly hitting the glass that confines me (see Figure One). This creates three versions of myself; subject, reflection and projection. It presents the idea of a fragmented or schizophrenic identity. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><b style=""><span lang="ES">Scene Two</span></b><span lang="ES">: I sit at the table where I have four different marking tools. The section of the audio includes narration that tells the story of being marked by different men. The first marking is ‘marriage’; for that I prepare the sindoor<a style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2795198684238534617&postID=5369320439843187787#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=";font-size:12pt;" lang="ES" >[1]</span></span></span></span></a> and place it on my own head. It is an awkward parody of the actual act which is supposed to be loving while I enact an act abandonment and betrayal. It drips pathetically down my forehead suggesting blood and domestic violence. Then I heat a ring and burn it into my side; this represents the marking of male territory again similar to marriage. Afterwards I heat a Kalchol<a style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2795198684238534617&postID=5369320439843187787#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=";font-size:12pt;" lang="ES" >[2]</span></span></span></span></a> on a candle flame and pull down my skirt to reveal a tattoo near my hip, another mark of male ownership. Once it has been heated I place it firmly on the tattoo to obscure it. Subsequently I take staples and cut into my thighs by dragging it firmly across.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><b style=""><span lang="ES">Scene Three</span></b><span lang="ES">: After these re-enactments, re-inscriptions I am purified from the contamination of male touch. So doing I invoke the Virgin Mary and take her mantle and place it on my head and walk out of the room to face the audience. I experience a transfiguration and I become the kind of statue of christian pilgrimages that invokes passion. A member of the crowd spontaneously began to cry and another fainted.</span></p><hr width="33%" align="left" size="1"> <div style="" id="ftn1"> <p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2795198684238534617&postID=5369320439843187787#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="ES"><span style=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=";font-size:10pt;" lang="ES" >[1]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span lang="ES"> </span><span style="">A red liquid used to symbolize marriage status for Hindu women and is first applied on the bride’s forehead by the groom during the marriage ritual.</span></p> </div> <a style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2795198684238534617&postID=5369320439843187787#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="ES"><span style=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=";font-size:10pt;" lang="ES" >[2]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span lang="ES"> </span><span style="">The indo-creole word for a large cooking spoon.</span>M.Isavahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794791057825403127noreply@blogger.com0