the cadaver, the comatose & the chimera: avatars have no organs (in retrospect)

The stage-name Stelarc is a hybrid of Stelios Arcadiou, and so too is this show a retrospective of Stelarc's ever transforming, performative self. And yet it is not the usual type of retrospective that is often associated with the visual arts. Rather than an overview of a very successful, internationally renowned career, Cadaver... Comatose... Chimera... is characterised by an anxiety and self-doubt that imbues much human interaction with its residual technocratic landscape.

The show is an examination of a performance practice that I believe began in the 70's; one characterised by a body in crisis and exemplified by the suspension of Stelarc's naked self above a busy New York intersection. (Among other risky and provocative acts). Indirectly alluding to a transient, decomposite flesh, and often underscored by a ritualistic, sadomasochistic impulse, Stelarc's Third Arm was a much more explicit representation of the relationship between human being and machine. With this robotic monstrosity attached to his actual arm, Stelarc called into question the assumed integrity of the natural world. That is, why place an undeniable value upon human life when robotic augmentation of the body can result in a hitherto unprecedented evolution of the species ?

Whichever side of the fence you sit on, Cadaver... Comatose... Chimera... is a reassessment of the relationship between human beings and technology. In doing so, Stelarc has responded to unpredictable developments in the techno-landscape. The so-called technological revolution may just be a composite of fascinating fetishes and armageddon type fusions of man and machine. The actual revolution could very well be a less melodramatic event. Human intelligence distributed on-line in the form of intelligent and interactive images. Hybridised mutations of global grey matter augmented by machines to the point where these intelligent images develop their own unique trajectory. Bodies can no longer be claimed as those belonging to individuals. The self is now an ephemeral and contingent entity, one that has a peculiar and disturbing beauty simply because of its very unreliability. In Cadaver... Comatose... Chimera... Stelarc questions all his previous assumptions about the body. When he asks "Who am I ?", the answer is that we are virtual compositions of multiple streams of global thought that gather and mutate in on-line environments such as Second Life. In effect, we have become intelligent images distributed on-line.

For those of you still prone to pinching the fleshy underside of your forearm and decrying the existence of data-bodies, please consider... Yesterday, or the day before, or even last week, what amount of time did you spend sitting before a computer staring at the algorithmic calculations that now construct simulations of your data-self ? (And the triumph of capitalism has ensured that those who disbelieve or resist the technological advance, are either dragged along by the scruff of the neck, or simply left behind). In Stelarc's world, it is the estranged space between what we believed we were, and who it is we have become, that is perhaps the monumental disjunctive experience of our time. Searching for solace in this contemporary technocracy, I sit down at my apple mac and turn on-line...

The Cadaver, the Comatose & the Chimera:

Avatars have no Organs

By Stelarc

SL site construction: Daniel Mounsey

SL assistance: John Derrick

Sound design: Tim Cole

Lighting: Emily Adinolfi

Video: John Dogget-Williams

Documentation: Nina Sellars

Animated micro-robot: Steve Middleton

Global mind project: Karen Casey & Harry Sokol

EEG headset: Emotive Systems

La Mama Courthouse, Dec. 15 - 16, Melb.

embrace: guilt frame (strange hand)

When performer Peter Snow's hand appears as if it has become disconnected from his body, embrace: guilt frame performs the transcendental. This quiet yet luminous show is staged within a gilt-edged frame that could very well be a portrait of a couple hanging above a fireplace in the family home. All the usual emotive states are there: laughter, joy, violence and hatred, resentment, jealousy and sometimes even transient moments of monumental affection, if not true love. And yet embrace always strives for something other than the usual rumination upon dysfunctional relationships. Performed in slow-time, it is a Robert Wilson extravaganza reduced to the intimacy of a 2 X 1 metre rectangle; making the portraiture an integral component of this performance. There are actually three performers on stage, but one of these happens to be an gilt-edged frame. Consequently, the mysterious space behind, between and beyond Snow and de Quincy is amplified for an audience prepared to be receptive toward the peculiar, unpredictable and devastating consequences of Nature. You're drawn into this show in the same way a person can be drawn into staring out to sea on a moonless night. The same void that awaits us all once we are done with the petty vanities of our very business-like, postmodern lives.

Snow and De Quincy are transformed; from dysfunctional suburban couple to rodents marking time as each makes an assessment of the primal beast within. They employ photographic techniques to suggest moments of cataclysmic intimacy before the moment is lost and Snow recedes into darkness; while de Quincy arches forward, pushing her head and hand into the illuminated space beyond the shimmering gold frame to confront the audience. It is at once the busting of theatre's fourth wall, a desperate bid for escape, the repositioning of status between two participants in a tempestuous relationship, and two mythical travelers about to discover the absolute terror that characterises deep awareness. Space and time, those often forgotten fundamental elements of the theatre, are utilised in a deceptively simple fashion to record the journey of a lifetime as it occurs in 40 minutes flat. That old spiritual cosmonaut Andre' Tarkovsy comes to mind. Set in a transitional space between the living and the dead, his film Mirror is sometimes more an essay than a performed moment. During embrace however, as a receptive member of the audience you yourself feel compelled to forever depart this mortal coil... And then Peter Snow's strange hand enters stage left...

Purveyor of Beckett's cruel joke, or perhaps an unfathomable cosmic presence ? Representation of tyrannical masculinity, or an arm ripped from its socket by a feminine presence that can no longer tolerate the bonds of affection. Snow's phantom limb is all this and more, giving embrace a narcotic potency. And even though this show's rhythmical structure requires one more epiphany in the transition between its second and third movements, embrace is one of those rare performances that should remind audiences and practitioners alike why they were first attracted to the theatre. Staring out across the sea on a moonless night, you will wonder who or what it will be, (if anything at all), that will embrace you in its arms when your time has come, and it is your turn to go...

embrace: GUILT FRAME

Performers: Tess de Quincey & Peter Snow

Original Concept: Tess de Quincey

Set: Russell Emerson & Steve Howarth

Sound: Michael Toisuta

Light: Travis Hodgson

Project Manager: Sam Hawker

La Mama Courthouse, Melb. Dec. 2 -13