I was so excited about The Muster, Alison Smith's brilliantly-concieved public art event. I woke up hyperventilating on Saturday morning: an art project taking the form of a Civil War Reenactment! On Governor's Island, a weird land mass in NY Harbor that of course JK will want to go to. The ferry ride was neat, and the island looks really cool. But the "encampment" was simply in a field, we couldn't really explore the island, and far too many of the artists seemed more interested in an opportunity to go camping and drink beer with their friends than being part of a serious art piece. The on-stage part of the event, a "Declaration of Causes," was for the most part tedious and self-indulgent, a high point being seemingly pointless distribution of bubble gum and a low point being a short tirade by a woman who seemed too tired and drunk to actually be angry.
Two of the encampments were exeptional: a nice young man and a nice young lady had a trading post (I traded them a lipstick for a loaf of bread), and a group called "Knitting Nation" was machine-knitting an American Flag and reading civil-war-era writings about women knitting socks for the war effort.
I think the root of the problem was the format. Each artist seemed fit into a slot (and some seemed like they were there only to fill a slot) rather than really interested in the concept. And it felt somewhat tentative, and really clubby -- like I was on the verge of discovering something interesting but couldn't, or I ws missing something because none of my friends were encamped (note: nice people at the trading post are exceptions). None of the encampments seemed up to Allison Smith's profoundly serious challenge: none of the causes, despite their "worthiness," were really urgent. The right to universal aesthetic suffarage (an encampment with painting, instead of voting, booths) was cute, but where was the war in Iraq?
The war in Iraq, though alluded to by Smith, was absent. And I think it was absent because it is absent from the lives of the artists there, which speaks to the deep geographic and class divides in this country. I wholeheartedly support the right of artists to go camping and smoke and drink with their friends, whether or not I am invited. However, I thought the degree of legitimacy granted to this event -- with the Public Art Fund's support, and the exciting use of the weird land mass -- was not supported by it's content.
If you didn't go, be glad. The printed materials, photographs, web site, and other documentation of the event are actually better than the event was. Another post is in order about documentation and performance, and performing to the documentation instead of the audience. Or maybe a thesis.
