The New Yorker had an interesting article this week about the performance artist, Marina Abramovic. I had not heard of her work. As an aside that is what is so great about the New Yorker and its stories, they can draw you into a story that you didn't even know you had interest in. As I mentioned Marina is a performance artist. She has become a motherly figure as the majority of her work was done in the late 60s and 70s. Her art is her. Some of her pieces are being revisited and thus she is passing along some of her experiences with a new set of artist. Some of it is bizarre, some scary, and some might not call it art. The magician David Blaine has become something of a performance artist when he does his feats of endurance. The thing about Marina is that sometimes you can interact. Starting this year she is going to be a piece in a museum and she is simply going to sit there. As a visitor you will have the chance to stare at her. She is going to do this 8 hours a day for weeks on end. How fascinating how visceral, and how scary. To put yourself and your work out there like that. It is easy to do art and throw it on the wall but to be the art...yikes. Anyway fascinating piece.
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