Went to see Marina Abramovic presents (Dedicated to Tehching Hsieh) last night at the Whitworth, part of Manchester International Festival 09.
The other day eating my bacon butty from Galloways on the corner of St. Johns I watched the street cleaner cleaning the street in front of me. Using a grabber he was picking up other peoples discarded cigarette ends. He reached, squeezed, squeezed, squeezed again. One particular butt was proving to be particularly elusive and he kept on trying, I was thinking it’s got to be easier to pick it up (he’s wearing gloves). Finally, success. I go back to my butty. A couple minutes later I look down the street and I see cigarette butts, here and there. Quantum physics in action; me watching changed his behaviour. He could sense I was watching and didn’t want to give up, didn’t want me to witness him thinking ‘fuck it’ but once he’d succeeded and we were both satisfied the heat was off.
Can any female performance artist out there explain the prevalence of nakedness in female performance for me?
A man played with the remote control digger. I’ve set it up so that with the controls as close to the door as possible it would be impossible to knock the tunnel over. The man moved the empty rolls of tape around, against each other. Amusement arcade.
I’ve changed my mind, now I think I’ll make it so the tunnel can be knocked down by the remote controlled digger, more poignant.
Alex was awarded with a certificated for staying the full four hours at the Whitworth; I left at 22.40 and received no certificate.
