It’s so precious it makes my skin crawl. Performance artist Marni Kotak is going to give birth in a gallery and call it art. Which is fine, she can call it whatever she wants.
But I’m not calling it art.
I’m calling it birth. That thing that every critter on the planet manages to do to maintain the species. That thing that humans have been doing in private, in front of audiences, in the woods, their toilets, and now galleries in the BK without expecting more than a pat on the back from colleagues and family. It’s not art. There’s nothing inherently artistic or that requires additional critical eye during the process that others might see other meaning in. It’s magical to those who experience it, and those who care about the kid, but I think most people could give a shit about a stranger popping out a young’n on a Thursday afternoon, no matter where it happens.
“Kotak considers her work in the cultural context of artworks now being referred to as “post-ironic” “…
Ohmyfuckinggod. IS POST-IRONIC A THING NOW? Or is post-irony ironic in itself? I hate everything about this.
“I have decided to do this because I want to show people that, as in my previous performances, real life is the best performance art,” she said.
Frankly, if your performance art only goes so far as for you to do your daily shit and have people look at you in the process, without any greater commentary, required critical thought or general evocation of emotion, I’d go so far as to say you are doing it wrong.
And what about after ‘Baby X’ is born in public? “She [will] re-contextualize the everyday act of raising a child into a work of performance art,” the gallery said.
Wow. You know, it’s one thing to be inspired by the things your children do and utilize that in your artwork -it’s quite another to make them your art piece and use them to garner attention and monetary gain prior to their ability to consent. I find your motives, and imagination, questionable, Mrs. Kotak. Really fucking gross, inappropriate, insufferable and questionable.
That said, I hope the birth goes well and everyone is happy, safe and healthy. The idea if fucking stupid but I sincerely hope it all goes smoothly and adoring patrons experience their moment of zen, or whatever it is they think happens when a woman they don’t know gives birth on a floor in front of them.
Sweet sassy-molassy I hate performance artists.