Nov 13, 2011
I am proud and honored to have performed with the great Marina Abramovic in her piece entitled An Artist’s Life Manifesto, which was presented last night as a fundraiser for the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles. During the days building up to the performance, many artists, critics and self-professed know-it-alls hopped on the bashing wagon driven by choreographer Yvonne Rainer, who claimed via her misguided letter that Marina and MOCA exploited the participating artists by paying them very little to perform; that the piece was fascist in nature; that the performers all wanted a shot at showbiz, and other misinformed nonsense. It is important to note that Yvonne had not even seen the performance when she wrote her rant. Jeffrey Deitch, the director of MOCA, later invited Yvonne to come see one of the rehearsals, in a PR move that I did find incredibly disrespectful to Marina. Yvonne accepted the invitation, and apparently stopped many of my fellow performers to ask questions and, essentially, harass. Why was she there? Is it now OK for artists to crash others’ rehearsals and write stink pieces about them? It irks me to no end when public tantrums like these are rewarded. As for claims that the performers were exploited; that they received meager pay while seeking super-stardom, what a crock of sour grapes bullshit. I very much chose to participate in this project. I’m delighted I did. I’ve been an active performance artist for about 6 years, and I do not expect to end up on the cover of US Weekly for it. It’s always nice to get paid, but it’s even nicer to do what you love. I work for free A LOT, and so do many of the artists I work with. And I would have GLADLY participated in Marina’s performance for free. As with many other great artists whom I’ve had the great pleasure to perform with in the past, I stand firmly and proudly by the work. Marina succeeded in creating an intense environment at the gala. The attendees all had to wear lab coats over their pricey garments for the duration of the event. Many of them were not happy. According to the performers who portrayed centerpiece heads at each table, many attendees complained and complained about how uncomfortable they were made to feel by the silently-gazing heads. Singer Svetlana Spajic sang a couple of times, her beautiful, epic voice competing with the disrespectful chattering of the attendees. For the most part, the attendees were loud and rude. And unhappy. I participated in a chorus of 18 people, militantly shouting Marina’s manifesto in unison (“An artist should not make himself into an idol! An artist should not fall in love with another artist!” and so forth). Our fevered spit sprayed all over the attendees as they dined. The unease spread across the room. Proper. And then Debbie Harry came out to sing a couple of her hits, and the crowd was in familiar territory again, dancing and laughing with mouths filled with food. Life-sized cakes of Marina and Debbie were brought out by shirtless escorts. Slices of lady body parts were fed to the attendees. A frenzy. A cacophony. The animals were set loose. It was the worst audience for Marina’s work. And yet, kinda perfect. An ocean of insight. I try not to generalize, but man oh man, there sure were a lot of rich assholes last night who acted like they never left the house! I have been a great admirer of Marina’s work since I witnessed her MoMA retrospective, The Artist Is Present, about 2 years ago. I was deeply moved by her amazing body of work. To work with her was, indeed, a dream come true. For the duration of our production, Marina was incredibly kind and generous to the performers. She treated us with utmost respect and consideration, always making sure we were taken care of during the rehearsals. Very human, very straight-forward. Even as the controversy escalated on the days prior to the performance, she addressed it and opened a dialogue with all of us. She looked at it right in the eye. A fearless artist with nothing to hide. Proper. Also, the Marina cake was pretty tasty. Love, Dorian

I am proud and honored to have performed with the great Marina Abramovic in her piece entitled An Artist’s Life Manifesto, which was presented last night as a fundraiser for the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles.

During the days building up to the performance, many artists, critics and self-professed know-it-alls hopped on the bashing wagon driven by choreographer Yvonne Rainer, who claimed via her misguided letter that Marina and MOCA exploited the participating artists by paying them very little to perform; that the piece was fascist in nature; that the performers all wanted a shot at showbiz, and other misinformed nonsense.

It is important to note that Yvonne had not even seen the performance when she wrote her rant. Jeffrey Deitch, the director of MOCA, later invited Yvonne to come see one of the rehearsals, in a PR move that I did find incredibly disrespectful to Marina. Yvonne accepted the invitation, and apparently stopped many of my fellow performers to ask questions and, essentially, harass. Why was she there? Is it now OK for artists to crash others’ rehearsals and write stink pieces about them? It irks me to no end when public tantrums like these are rewarded.

As for claims that the performers were exploited; that they received meager pay while seeking super-stardom, what a crock of sour grapes bullshit. I very much chose to participate in this project. I’m delighted I did. I’ve been an active performance artist for about 6 years, and I do not expect to end up on the cover of US Weekly for it. It’s always nice to get paid, but it’s even nicer to do what you love. I work for free A LOT, and so do many of the artists I work with. And I would have GLADLY participated in Marina’s performance for free.

As with many other great artists whom I’ve had the great pleasure to perform with in the past, I stand firmly and proudly by the work. Marina succeeded in creating an intense environment at the gala. The attendees all had to wear lab coats over their pricey garments for the duration of the event. Many of them were not happy. According to the performers who portrayed centerpiece heads at each table, many attendees complained and complained about how uncomfortable they were made to feel by the silently-gazing heads. Singer Svetlana Spajic sang a couple of times, her beautiful, epic voice competing with the disrespectful chattering of the attendees. For the most part, the attendees were loud and rude. And unhappy. I participated in a chorus of 18 people, militantly shouting Marina’s manifesto in unison (“An artist should not make himself into an idol! An artist should not fall in love with another artist!” and so forth). Our fevered spit sprayed all over the attendees as they dined. The unease spread across the room. Proper. And then Debbie Harry came out to sing a couple of her hits, and the crowd was in familiar territory again, dancing and laughing with mouths filled with food. Life-sized cakes of Marina and Debbie were brought out by shirtless escorts. Slices of lady body parts were fed to the attendees. A frenzy. A cacophony. The animals were set loose. It was the worst audience for Marina’s work. And yet, kinda perfect. An ocean of insight. I try not to generalize, but man oh man, there sure were a lot of rich assholes last night who acted like they never left the house!

I have been a great admirer of Marina’s work since I witnessed her MoMA retrospective, The Artist Is Present, about 2 years ago. I was deeply moved by her amazing body of work. To work with her was, indeed, a dream come true. For the duration of our production, Marina was incredibly kind and generous to the performers. She treated us with utmost respect and consideration, always making sure we were taken care of during the rehearsals. Very human, very straight-forward. Even as the controversy escalated on the days prior to the performance, she addressed it and opened a dialogue with all of us. She looked at it right in the eye. A fearless artist with nothing to hide. Proper.

Also, the Marina cake was pretty tasty.

Love,

Dorian

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