The students and staff of VCUQ were just treated to a lecture by the performance artist Marina Abramovic, in which she recounted some of the pivotal realizations that have helped to shape her 40-year career. In ‘Rhythm 0‘, a 1974 performance in a Naples gallery, Abramovic laid out on a table a selection of 72 objects, stood in front of it and, through a set of written instructions, invited the gallery audience to consider her as an object, and to interact with her using any of the things they found on the table. These objects ranged from those which were overtly violent, such as a gun, a bullet, and a knife, to those that were seemingly benign, such as a feather, a rose, and a loaf of bread. As a performance artist, Abramovic felt it was important for her to get to know her public, and to put herself quite literally in their hands. After six hours of use and abuse, however, (during which time she had the rose thorns stuck in her stomach, the petals pushed inside her, her neck cut with a knife, and the gun held to her head) she realized that the public could be ugly and aggressive and probably shouldn’t be left holding her fate in their hands.

In revisiting this project, what struck me, apart from the tears running down Abramovic’s young face as she stood, absorbing the public’s abuse of her body, was the humdrum and everyday quality of the objects that Abramovic chose for her experiment. Cumulatively, in juxtaposition with one another, and knowing how they would go on to be used, these objects appear all the more sinister for their quotidian complexion—their domesticity. Here’s a sample, and the full list can be found here:

blue paint
comb
bell
whip
lipstick
pocket knife
fork
perfume
spoon
cotton
flowers
matches
rose
candle
water
scarf
mirror
drinking glass
polaroid camera
feather
chains
nails
needle
safety pin
hairpin
brush
bandage
red paint
white paint
scissors
pen
book
hat
handkerchief
sheet of white paper

Another collection of objects, observed while here in Doha, also gave me pause. These are the extraordinary manipulations of weapons by the Iraqi-Canadian artist Mahmoud Obaidi, gathered in his ‘Confusionism‘ exhibition currently showing at the Katara Arts Center. Here, terrifyingly sharp looking swords and daggers are emasculated through various subversions of their forms. Some have been re-wrought into feeble circular shapes, some attack one another, some grow useful appendages such as brooms, paintbrushes, plungers, and whisks to become strange hybrid household utensils. In other words, the exotic, dangerous, phallic, and public typology of the sword is domesticated through Obaidi’s humorous interventions.

As I’m sure is all too painfully evident to Qatari women, Qatar currently has no law specifically criminalizing domestic violence. The alarming rise in the number of reports of acts of domestic violence against women in recent years has led to the development of legislation that would define and outlaw such acts by 2016. Earlier this year The King Khalid Foundation, a charitable organization based in Saudi Arabia, launched a domestic violence awareness campaign featuring a photograph of a woman in a niqab with one bruised eye accompanied by the text, ‘Some things can’t be covered’.

Which brings me to:

PROVOCATION # 5: Redesign, or design an appendage for, a weapon, to help prevent, or to help spread awareness of, domestic violence. You can post pictures of models, sketches or even written descriptions of your non-functioning weapon or your clip-on weapon emasculator.

Background reading:
Museum of Modern Art ‘Design and Violence‘ online project