Performance artists' bodies, minds go to extreme with art genres, self-mutilation
Performance artists' bodies, minds go to extreme with art genres, self-mutilation
By Nisha Gopalan
Paints, pencils and plaster are generally assumed to be the tools of the traditional artist.
However, the principal material of performance art a genre that transcends the bounds of classical art involves the expression of the human body.
"Although this might be shocking and highly unconventional," says UCLA assistant sociology professor Dr. Steven Clayman, "if you think about modern art generally, perhaps it's just another step in the evolution of modern art, another way in which enterprising artists can find ways of violating expectations, violating societal conventions and especially violating conventional understandings about what art might consist of."
The recent emergence of performance art does not signify a phenomenon, but rather, an art movement.
The self-mutilation approach (see related stories) merely signifies one segment of performance art.
The existence of the new genres major in the UCLA School of Art, which studies forms of art beyond painting, sculpture, pure photography and printmaking, reiterates the growth of the art world's acceptance of unconventional art forms.
While not all new genres majors choose to pursue performance art, or said mutilation performance art for that matter, the success of the new genres major indicates the art community's increasing willingness to legitimize all forms of art.
Henry Hopkins, chair of the UCLA art department, somewhat confirms Clayman's speculation.
"People have raised that question (about the legitimacy of art) about everything from Van Gogh to Gauguin," says Hopkins. "It is a means of individual expression for a purpose that falls under the general category of art."
"A lot of the artists function outside the arenas of organized religion," adds Hopkins. "But I do think many of them have a spiritual intent by virtue of creating a situation to make people aware of certain inequities in the world."
This movement exists worldwide, with other well-known self-mutilating performance artists, or more accurately put, "body artists."
French artist Orlan represents one of the most famous body artists. In 1990, she embarked upon an epic performance piece, in which, through seven installations of plastic surgery, she transformed her features, one by one, into those of idealized feminine beauty for example, the forehead of the Mona Lisa who represents androgyny, the chin of Botticelli's Venus who symbolizes fertility and the eyes of Gerome's Psyche, who emphasizes spirituality. Each operation represents a performance piece in itself, supplemented with props, costumes, music, dance and Orlan, under local anesthesia, reciting her texts.
In the United States, however, Los Angeles' Ron Athey represents, perhaps, the best known body artist. The HIV-positive Athey stirred audiences as well as the National Endowment for the Arts in 1991 when, using a surgical scalpel, he carved a tribal ritual on another artist. Athey blotted the blood design on a paper towel and hung that work at least eight feet over the audience. Athey also performed acts of acupuncture on himself, which alluded to the images of Saint Sebastion, and performed other ornate cuttings, the act being inspired by African traditions.
Despite the growing acceptance of body art as a legitimate means of performance art, these artists' works still spark sensationalism and even disapproval within some factions of the art community and society, as demonstrated by the uproar heard after Athey's 1991 performance.
Dr. Linda Goodman, UCLA clinical psychology assistant professor and a visiting professor in the UCLA dance department, says that one cannot hastily deem these performance artists mentally unstable.
"I don't know the artists. I don't know about their lives," Goodman says. "I would want to know if this behavior, that is, the self mutilative art, got in the way of their ability to have and maintain social relationships and to pursue meaningful lives."
"So, when we speak of unhealthy behavior, I don't assume that what defines unhealthy is behavior, per se," continues Goodman. "I think it would be very important to take into consideration a person's life and cultural context."
When asked if body art represents an averse emotional reaction, Goodman responds that the question may represent a philosophical, rather than psychological question.
Therein, she sheds light on the possible source of one's reservations about this type of art.
"If there's a dimension of asking if an artist ought to express him or herself in such a way, this, actually, is a moral question."


