- Venue
- Surface Gallery
- Location
- East Midlands
The Coming Community Series: [The Community That Never Comes]
Curated by Effy Harle, featuring Beth Kettel and Chris Evitts
In an exhibition that aims to focus on the art of performance, The Community That Never Comes certainly delivers on that front, committing to a minimal aesthetic that emphasises the true presence of the performer in situ. There is power in gesture, in the physical presence of both performer and viewer, creating a live space that is in constant reconfiguration and motion.
An hourglass sits on a shelf, acting as the cue for both performers; one runs whilst another reads, swapping over when the hourglass runs out. What is evident immediately is the feeling of activity in the space; of breathing, being, sensing. The act of running becomes not only a physical action, but a spatial reminder. As the runner repeatedly circles the gallery, the floor tremors, as if to continuously remind the viewer of their own presence and the presence of the performer in tandem. Observing someone run allows one to become more aware of their own physical body, of panting, burning, heart-racing adrenaline – a mixture of exertion, exhaustion and endurance. The reader follows a passage aloud, allowing themselves to ebb and flow amongst the visitors, becoming a faceless voice in the crowd. What is surprising is our ability to adapt so quickly to a new situation. A while after, the pounding of footsteps becomes part of the environment, the reader speaking becomes background ambience. It is at this point that the performance seems to reach its peak, arriving at a point of transference where the performance rotates, enabling the viewer to be reminded again of what they are experiencing.
Between the simultaneous running and reading, there is a respite that alternates in between. The only other content in the exhibition is a huge stack of industrial plastic crates sitting in the middle of the gallery. The use for these doesn’t become apparent until the performers begin moving them; pushing, lifting, pulling, stacking, as a viewer even watching feels exhausting. At first it feels choreographed, that perhaps there is a means to this activity…Gradually one fathoms that there just isn’t; what takes place feels purely instinctual and improvised, focused on a repetitive haphazard act of labour that doesn’t reach an end or an explicable conclusion. The performers aimlessly rearrange and recompose until their cue; stretch, rehydrate, and wait for the timer to prompt the running and reading process all over again. Every performance feels raw, honest and intense in its presence, uncompromising and unrelenting.
And so this continues, for 6 hours every day the performers run, read, stack and repeat. All of this is monitored on a live feed that can be accessed anytime during the exhibition. No performance will be the same. Every reconfiguration of the plastic crates becomes a changing, evolving sculpture, a transforming stage that seems to indicate every shift and turn.
At its very core there is a commitment and devotion to the performance, to continue despite exhaustion, despite boredom, despite anything other than continuing the performance itself. Regardless of whether anyone visits the gallery or not, the performers persist with the rotation of activities until the day is over. The performer is the medium, form and content to be seen, the body is the vessel through which Effy Harle’s vision is translated. The Community That Never Comes may allude to the watching community who may or may not be there to witness the event, but that event continues nevertheless as a true performance will and does.
The show must go on.
