The Kissing Mask was first performed at the Seattle Art Museum as part of the opening night of Disguise: Masks and Global African Art curated by Pam McClusky & Erika Dalya Massaquoi.
The
Kissing Mask is a performance inspired by one of ruby onyinyechi amanze's drawings. The drawing is titled:
that
low hanging kind of sun, the one that lingers two feet above your
head, (never dying) house plants in exchange for your
freedom...orchids in exchange for your love, who are you kissing,
when you kiss a mask?
I
was particularly drawn to this question: who
are you kissing, when you kiss a mask?
For the performance I have created a mask [which riffs off of amanze's drawing]. I sit on a plinth over the
course of the evening and kiss audience members who approach me.
These may be cheek, face or lip kisses.
The
Kissing Mask
reconnects the 'artifact' to the present moment by proposing an
intimate act between artist, mask and viewer. As such, this
performance complicates and dismantles the mask as sacred object or
historical relic by making use of it on a living body [that of the
artist/performer]. The performance also becomes a vehicle to speak
about what constitues intimacy, touch, and connection. What do we
share with and show to our family, friends and strangers? Does a
mask offer a space to negotiate that intimacy outside of society's
rules? Does the mask come alive only through the audience? Or
simply the artist? Or, is it always charged? Do the intentions of
the wearer and/or viewer affect the power and pull of the object?
amanze
writes further about her drawing:
when
i think about kissing a mask i think about kissing something that
isn't. something that is blocking you from the thing that you
understand is like you. something that is a disguise. but so
perfectly, that it's becomes its own thing. a mask is a mask. and
it's inanimate 90% of the time. but can be charged in the right
hands. or on the right body. i wondered in that drawing about kissing
this relic. this stolen, no longer charged representation of africa.
kissing it to revive it. kissing it to see what africa tasted like.
kissing it because you're in love. with this thing. or with what this
thing is trying to be. or is in your head. or none of the above.
maybe it was just this woman ghost kissing merman who had on a mask.
In
my own work I often use masks to interrupt present time and create
space or claim power. The mask is an opening, a way to claim physical, social or liminal space. But, I am also interested in how
this particular mask and performance [in true trickster fashion]
might simply be 'none of the above', an object completely devoid of
the sacred or reverent.
Other
work that I am thinking about with regard to this performance
includes: James Luna [The Artifact Piece,1986], Tracey Rose [The
Kiss, 2001], and Lorna Simpson [Flipside, 1991].
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