Living statues are traditionally silver painted characters, holding a position for hours on end, their only movements being a small nod or a smile for those that pay. With this installation, there was a more subtle version of these characters. We posed as street-vendors and sign holders, embodying precarious, politically sensitive figures who also work for long hours on the city streets. We were asked not to speak while performing, instead taking on a calm performance presence, blending into the background like street furniture. The boundary between performer and the general public was non-existent, as we were stood amongst our audience who were initially unaware of the fact that it was art. As a balloon seller, posing with fifty odd helium-filled balloons, I acted as a landmark, drawing attention from mainly families with young children.
During my performances, I made many observations and experienced a wide array of encounters. The responses of the public were quite varied. Naturally, many people were confused, as there was no sign identifying me as an art work and thereby explaining my behaviour. Some people were intrigued by my presence, happy to watch me from a distance or from close by.
Photographers enthusiastically took up different angles, trying to capture the scene of a lone, static figure amidst the activity. Other viewers were less inspired, appearing offended when I didn’t answer their questions. Most people gave up trying to engage with me after a few ‘excuse me’s’, or when I failed to tell them where the nearest cash point was. Some concluded that I was dumb or deaf or both. One person even claimed I was insane! An Italian tourist walked off in a huff when I did not point him in the direction of the Tate, ironically proving useless to his artistic schedule of the day. My favourite response came from a senior citizen who approached me. He spoke in a low, David Attenborough-like voice and asked: ‘How many balloons will it take to make you fly away? Any idea?’ With these questions he surpassed acceptance and understanding, encouraging my imagination to wander in the same direction as his. I was amused and intrigued; he had reversed the role between the entertainer and the entertained.
The nature of the interaction, whether positive, negative or completely indifferent, was entirely dependent on the response of the viewer. When people embraced the occurrence of an unexpected, inexplicable happening, the interaction became playful and inspirational. When people felt cheated and rejected by my non-compliance to normality, the interaction was short, cutting and sometimes even aggressive. When parents found inventive and imaginative ways of explaining my presence, their children were engaged and excited. When parents were dismissive and disrespectful, their children mirrored their views and felt neglected. Once, a father approached me to say that the piece was emotionally damaging to children. His daughter appeared perplexed, apparently affected by our encounter. However, children will learn eventually that social interaction isn’t always straightforward, as everyone is unique and people express themselves in different ways.
Speech, language, sight and hearing are tools we use to communicate and not everyone possesses them all. What better way to support their learning than through art?
With each dismissal, I increasingly felt the need to explain myself and to justify my inaction. I began to wonder whether it was fair to subject an unwitting audience to art. My passivity appeared as a deceit; I did not serve the function that I was suggesting with my pose. When my audience realised that I was in fact performing, they felt cheated into interacting with art without consciously choosing to do so. Does that make it cruel trickery? If people are not interested in art, why should they be lured into engaging with it against their knowledge?
In our society, where everything is for sale and time is of economic value, people become impatient and compliant to the norm. The unwritten rules of social convention are the driving force behind human behaviour in public spaces. When I did not adhere to these rules, appearing antisocial, I broke the chain of expectations that were cast upon me by the spectator. The majority of my audience did not take the time to question what those expectations were based on. Most people were unable to overcome their feelings of personal rejection in order to appreciate the abnormality of my performance.
However, it is of utmost importance to continue, even as adults, to question the world around us and to remain curious. Throughout history, artists have stood at the forefront of innovation, precisely because they dared to question their environment. Without the space for investigation, there is no room for improvement. Today, artists play with shifting the way we perceive art. Art should not be solely confined to spaces it has so far been designated, such as galleries and theatres. By extending out of the gallery, art can reach a wider public. The general public may not understand, enjoy or like the art work as they are first introduced to it, but opinions may fluctuate and change over time. New ideas must be shown so that diversity survives and enquiry continues.
There is always someone who does see the value of the work, who may proceed to prompt new ways of engaging with our surroundings and with each other. Art on the streets is accessible to all, allowing it to reshape the public space and play a more central role in our society.
More than anything this project has revealed the nature of the demographics of the Southbank Centre. The majority of people passing through one of Europe’s largest artistic hubs are not there to see the art. Even when strolling passed the Hayward Gallery – they are not expecting to see something unexpected. They are there to eat, drink and enjoy the scenery in an unthreatening environment. They like the idea of the art – interesting, entertaining, or aesthetically pleasing – but they don’t feel the need to engage with it. The Southbank Centre is home to many artistic and cultural ventures, but it is also home to abundant consumerism and that is what the street space is primarily used for. This piece temporarily shifted the function of the street space, allowing for the inside of the Hayward Gallery to expand out. Regardless of how it was received, it was a daring step towards uniting separate territories.
After each performance we would share our stories with each other and with the artists. Together we developed the project by playing with its many aspects artistically. For example, it became evident that the location significantly impacted the piece. Particular places, such as the middle or a corner of a square, led to different interpretations of the installation. Moreover, we all developed our own way of portraying our characters. My personal research extended into pedestrian movement, patterning, eye contact and performance stance. I was also intrigued by the slow passing of time, the sophistication of boredom and the progression into different phases of thought. However, the core factor that drove the work forward was the conversations and the discussions that we had collectively. All of us, together and individually, experienced crazy, comical and bizarre encounters indicative of the work’s unpredictable nature.
Beatrix Joyce
