Refelections
Thoughts
Intersection/The Art of Identity is a participatory performance project.
It is an encounter without words in a space, a process of feeling into how we perceive ourselves, how we experience others, and how we can communicate through our sensory perceptions. It is an understanding that is expressed and connected through the essence of people or the language of "being oneself." The Art of Identity is an artistic, performative experiment and a social sculpture of togetherness.
As an artist, I use the concept of identity, "The Art of Identity," in a way that the (inner) self-perception is a precursor to perceiving and consequently interpreting and relating to the external environment. The sensory information—“impressions and imprints”—is negotiated at the moment when the inner perception, the receptors, open outward and encounter the world.
The awareness of sensing oneself as the essence of one's own vitality, of fully grasping my individual being and physicality, implies for me the identification of oneself as a being, fulfilling a key concept of identity. To experience oneself as a being also includes the sensation of recognizing oneself in others and integrates relationship and connectedness. I therefore understand the concept of identity as independent of origin, gender, and socialization. My interpretation of identity, in this sense, arises from an expanded definition within the realm of artistic freedom.
The skin, which separates people from inside to outside or from outside to inside, is a shell, a membrane, a boundary that radiates different substances, temperatures, water, smells, but also feelings, and simultaneously absorbs the same from the environment. It is a place of dynamism, an area of interaction, a constant energetic dialogue of merging different strands of information.
What is personally interesting is that we tend to view this boundary, the skin, as the foundation for the concept of human identity. The skin, where the traces and forms of life are inscribed, serves as a surface for projection, through which we interpret the inner self and assign social value. It is also where we confront our questions about self-image and belonging.
To transcend the outer and sense the inner, or to search for the invisible! This would point to the immaterial aspect of human existence. A reality could be discovered that values our awakening and places it at the center of our attention. The concept of identity could begin from this point and be redefined, so that the essence encompasses the core of being alive, while each individual unfolds autonomously.
The project proposes a different way of exploring the self-centered relationship with the world and of rediscovering the zone of encounter.
Intersection/The Art of Identity encourages the impulse to be mindful, alert, and unconventional in order to inspire and contribute to our shared existence.
txt: Karen Bößer
The Gaze Towards the Other
Looking at someone directly without detours. An action so simple, so every day, and yet somehow so complex and difficult. How to look? How long to look? When to look? From where to look? With what mental attitude to look? With what body language to look? What does my gaze trigger in the other person? In me? What do I want my gaze to trigger? Seeing or looking? These are questions that must be processed and acted upon in fractions of a second.
Although we all look at people and are looked at by others every day, focusing on mutual gazing is a challenge and an unusually intense experience, which fascinates me anew each time.
The performance stages this exchange of gazes in two variations: directly, where two people sit silently facing each other for 2 minutes, and unilaterally, where one person allows themselves to be looked at for 2 minutes with their eyes closed.
In discussions with performing students, it became clear how differently both situations are perceived. One person finds direct eye contact very challenging, provocative, and hard to endure but can relax in the situation with closed eyes, while others feel especially vulnerable and exposed with their eyes closed. With closed eyes, you stop being active, you give up control.
One of the participants found the situation with closed eyes completely unbearable; he couldn’t endure it because it unsettled him so much. He was disturbed by the feeling of being reduced only to his outward appearance, and felt very exposed and vulnerable because of it.
A recurring, powerful, and by no means trivial reaction is laughter and giggling, which almost always arises, particularly during rehearsals, but also in the performance itself. Laughter out of embarrassment, as a way to divert from the eye contact and its intensity, or because the situation seems so strange, so artificial and absurd. The laughter breaks the circle of calm and concentration; it bursts out, becomes contagious, and unites. Tension turns into relaxation, and another form of communication happens with the opposite person and simultaneously with the whole group, which had been previously unnoticed.
For me, the framework of the performance is a safe space. I find eye communication to be an invigorating and enriching experience. Being able to look at someone attentively for a longer time, beyond social conventions, without having to speak or act myself, and focusing on my own perception, the situation, and the openness to the other person feels liberating to me. Letting go with closed eyes, simply showing myself as I am without trying to influence it, gives me relief.
Although the circle is quiet, a lot of invisible things are happening. Within oneself, thoughts and feelings arise, but the communication with the other person doesn’t stop either; it shifts to a different, non-verbal level that usually receives less attention. I try to communicate with the person opposite me, not in the sense of conveying something, but rather in the sense of openness to them, seeing and accepting them as they are. This communication and the opportunity to put it into practice, which seems so simple, is something I still find extremely exciting and always enriching for me.
txt: Beatrix Szörenyi
What is method in an art project that sees itself as a participatory experiment, operating in the realm of perception, psychological processes and experiences, and synesthesia?
How does such a process facilitate the achievement of goals? What makes this art?
Perhaps I want to express my view that an artwork is entitled to explain itself solely from within, regardless of the means used to deliver or convey it. In that sense, it requires no discernible logic, nor does it need to.
The artwork is an expression of itself, which the viewer can engage with, and ideally, it draws them into their own inner dialogue of reflection, feeling, and thought.
To experience an artwork as a performance implies understanding the entire composition of the piece. It is a journey in the present, aimed at revealing something through the performance, ideally forming an inspiring experience.
What’s required is an opportunity to develop understanding not solely through reason. Rather, it’s about engaging with all available human faculties for understanding—to encounter, sense, feel, imagine, and embark on an experience in an open space.
My personal vehicles in this process are sensory and tactile perception, but also free, fluid forms of thinking like intuition, inspiration, and imagination.
Even though I am offering an interpretation of my intent regarding the performance’s progression, my approach is that each participant, regardless of their role as performer or spectator, should be able to form their own perspective on the performance.
Every angle of observation is valuable, contributing to a multidimensional unity of perception.
The concept or method developed for this involved working with the performers through a process of self-perception and, further, non-verbal communication using a rubber band and a self-made rope composed of different materials.
txt: Karen Bößer