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Chapter
2 ‘Sacrifice’ The work of Peter Bogers constitutes an interesting case in the history of video and media art, as it develops from performance, but does not treat video as mere tool of documentation. Although Bogers shifted from “live” performances to video, Bogers’ own body remained an important point of departure. The video images actually convey a sense of intimacy that may not have been achieved if Bogers had performed in public.12 Many of these images are concentrated on a specific situation and, in this way, seem to share something private, coming close to the performer’s skin and revealing something that normally remains hidden – without becoming solipsistic or providing any conclusions about the artist’s actual life. In that way, the intensity of the image is conditioned by a “secondary” process of documentation, which seems quite at odds with traditional stances on performance documentation, normally considered something that falls short of the “live” event. Simultaneously, Bogers’ video installations question the myths surrounding video in other contexts, in which it is often considered a medium that expresses a strong sense of authenticity, being ‘direct’ and ‘spontaneous’ (as for example in live broadcasting). With respect to Bogers’ works the affective quality of the images is not associated with the “authentic” feel video can sometimes have when shot from a hand-held camera, presented in the form of raw, unedited footage. In contrast, the material in general is thoroughly edited and the presentation is conscientiously taken care of. Cautiously “choreographed” rhythms and patters are an important part of what we see. The images do not lack brilliance; it is not the grainy language of video-aesthetics we are confronted with here. This does not mean that the images conceal their origin by delivering a perfect illusion; part of the presentation is the exposure of where the images come from, and how they are produced. In Bogers’ work Sacrifice this tendency becomes rather evident. It includes several elements, among which a glass case placed on the floor, with a miniature monitor inside, and, at the top, a lens mediating the black-and-white images, giving them a bluish appearance. What we see is a mouth shot from above, slowly filling with water, as the artist’s face is submerged. At a certain moment, the water level seems to lower, but the mouth remains filled with water. Then, the water disappears, as it is swallowed. Being presented as a loop, this process repeats itself over and over again without visible cuts. Behind the glass case, a big photographic print is hanging, showing the setting of the recording, the artist laying in a bathtub, behind him a metal construction on which video and sound recording devices are installed.13 In this way, the work itself reveals in a two-fold manner its own conditions of production, i.e. on the level of technology and with respect to the performative action. The work itself has a structure of repetition, of its re-constitution within and beyond its own limits. Hence, the recognition of its processuality is key for the understanding of this work. One could maybe even say that this act of recognition is the decisive event initiated by it, the work conceptualizing its own performativity-as-repeatability. But what could this tell us about possible strategies of preservation? Taking into account everything that has been discussed until now, it seems quite obvious that the work has to be preserved in a way that guarantees the possibility of this event taking place. That is, both the internal repetition of video and photographic document has to be maintained, as well as the transparency of the technological frame. Changes to the technological equipment visible in the glass case (the monitor, the lens etc.) might be acceptable as long as it delivers the same type of image and does not mask its own technological specificity.14 Furthermore, the glass case itself would be a central element that has to be preserved or reconstructed in one way or the other, as it refers to a museal situation that is simultaneously questioned, as the work is somewhere in the middle of object and process, constituting an ambivalence that is quite characteristic of a certain type of (especially Dutch) installation art from the 1980’s and 1990’s. Like other works of this period, it is involved in a game of representation, confronting different layers of experience with each other, connected to different media. Somehow, the medium is (still) the message. It is therefore quite obvious that the way Sacrifice reveals its own frame and context has to be preserved, that is, the way the work exposes itself as performative event. According to the artist, this exposure could be understood as almost “religious”, which refers to the ritualistic character of the setting and the strong sense of staging associated with the photographic image. In the Stuttgart exhibition this may be even more evident than at the Netherlands Media Art Institute, as at the Württembergischer Kunstverein the installation included dramatic lighting, making it appear almost like an “altar”. Following from the above, one could then say that the work Sacrifice becomes itself a case study on the relation between performance and its documentation, defining repetition as key element of performativity. However, the presupposition of a rather fundamental possibility of repetition can lead to problems in the field of preservation. Whereas in this specific situation, repetition is intrinsic to the work (although the structure of repetition itself remains quite inflexible in terms of future changes), other works might disappear when becoming involved in repetition. The attempt to re-create media art works under different (technological and historical) conditions always includes the danger of changing them to such a degree that they become unrecognizable in the end. In order to preserve a work one has to find an answer to the question: with which exhibition does a work start, when does it end? This question already takes into account that a work is a series, rather than unique, unrepeatable event. However, every decision made regarding the preservation of a work of art appears as a fixation of an (however fictional) identity or essence of this work, or, at least, a structuring mechanism at its core. Strikingly, the possibility of defining this essence or mechanism is exactly what is at stake when considering works like those by Peter Bogers’, which do not acknowledge the presence of an unchangeable concept or original manifestation. |
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ON THE PERFORMATIVITY OF DOCUMENTATION AND PRESERVATION
OF VIDEO INSTALLATIONS |