
Photo credit, Elina Chauveaux
Non human animal, Deliah.
Cornerhouse, Manchester, 23rd - 24th January, 2009.
falling asleep with a pig, I think went very well and interestingly. It was very much the product of a collaborative effort from the producing and commissioning organisation The Arts Catalyst, the gallery Cornerhouse, an animal consultant, the people who work on Matlock Farm Park where the pig came from, myself and last but in no means least - the pig.
Generally for my art works - which invariably bring the movement and interventions into spaces with bodies be it my own, a public’s, a non human animals, a fragment of living tissue; I do most if not all of my research and acquiring of materials which invariably brings me into the realms of what you can do where, what you can and cannot get, negotiations, legislations, rules and regulations of bodies, materials, and how those change across spaces, institutions and contexts. Normally the intimacy the research brings generates a fair amount of the content. For this work The Arts Catalyst and Cornerhouse, in particular Gillean Dickie and Kate Jesson, took this task on. They engaged with everyone form DEFRA, to the RSPCA, to the city council, addressing issues of movement of livestock, biocontamination, and some kind of zoo regulations, what a public can and cannot do and what about the piggy in the middle of the whole thing. . Prior to the piece opening gallery technicians designed, built and made a dwelling space for Deliah (the pig) and I including a raised platform sleeping area for me. Another technician created documenting schemes, and gently lit the space. Someone ensured the gallery temperatures would not exceed 20 degrees Celsius – optimum piggy temperature, fresh and fragrant straw bedding was extensively laid, the roof shutters were opened to enable day light, tools and protocols were established with which to remove and dispose of pee and pooh that conformed to health and safety and bioregulations.
This created a very different kind of work for me - in that I was in some senses removed although my other commitments would of severely compromised the real time I had to make those investigations.
Someone described the work as “joyous”, they spoke about their little girl, aged 8, spending time – 15 minutes watching in concentration Deliah – the pig, and watching me watch her, and then watching me. The ambiance was soft, tender, quiet. Someone else – who wasn’t there, said they picked up from conversations with me, the tensions between the undercurrents of exploitation of animal in the piece with the obvious and explicit care for the non-human animal that was exercised on every level possible. I was preoccupied with the construction that the entire work was, from its concept, the physical desegregated habitat of the hybrid and displaying dwelling installation structure that articulated this, and of course she and I and how we slept.
We slept a lot. She proved to be a consummate napper, and not averse to my taking up a resting space in close proximity to her. Despite myself I fell asleep beside her in full public view a number of times. My capacity to slumber under gaze was surprising to me.
I thought a lot about the specificity of our two bodies coming into this peculiar proximity and our temporary arty space and what that was. I also wondered a lot about her and me and the multitude of micro organisms we were introducing to one another and the altering of our ecologies within and around us – intra and inter ecologies? Living in straw for 36 hours created a dry mouth, throat and upper respiratory system for me, that felt slightly but discernibly inflamed – so I pondered about how we are many and the intrusions of others and about the self/non self binary metaphors found in immunology. Somewhere Haraway talks about this being challenged and I think she talks about continuity as another metaphor. Continuums and partial overlaps and porosity or being defined by proximities to others and adapting and adopting others is more compelling to me. So I thought about the work as circulations of living systems on and off her and I as perhaps hosts. And the gallery host environment, producing in that moment and time new ecologies. As Haraway says:
I love the fact that the human genome can be found in only about 10 percent of all the cells that occupy the mundane space I call my body; the other 90 percent ofthe cells are filled with the genomic of bacteria, fungi, protistys, and such, some of which play in symphony necessary to my being alive at all, and some of which are hitching a ride and doing the rest of me, of us, no harm. I am vastly outnumbered by my tiny companions; better put, I become an adult human being in company with these tiny measurements. To become is always to become with many.
Dona J. Harraway, p.4, When Species Meet, University of Minnesota Press, 2008.
In her paper Flesh of the World Slovenian artist, Polona Tratnik writes:
In order to describe interweavence of things and space, a presence of a human body in the world into which it is immersed, Maurice Merleau-Ponty has created the concept of the flesh of the world. Things reciprocally belong to each other and thus form the same flesh, which is the flesh of the world.
A human being lives in an environment and is a part of it; he does not gaze at the world as at a display or something that is distant from him. He touches things and regards them. In such a manner he is seizing them, they are becoming a part of him. Maurice Merleau-Ponty is pointing out that space in post-Euclidian world is not a grid of relations between objects, is not a scene which is looked at as by a geometer from afar, but that, instead, space starts from me as the zero point of spatiality. A world does not exist in front of me, but is all around me and I live in it and am thus its part. I live it from the inside and am immersed in it. I am a part of the flesh of the world in which everything is interwoven. The world is made from the same substance as a body. Human body does not end with a rind of human organism, with skin, for example. It is expanding into space. It extends not only so far as I can touch things, but also up to where I can see them.
At a microbiological level micro organisms not only enter the human organism, but also get out of it into the environment. I refer here mostly to bacteria and fungi that live with us in symbiosis and also help us to maintain a healthy bodily balance. With an exchange of these micro organisms our bodies and things are in direct mutual contacts. Our organism can become resistant to some possibly dangerous species of micro organisms, so that the individual human cultures become adapted to specific environments, in which they live. At the same time some species that inhabit that environment can endanger some outlandish human organism. In this case the invisible organisms cause different kinds of illnesses. Likewise, some species that live with our organism in symbiosis, can, if our organism gets weaker (if its resistance decreases), multiply and attain such quantity that this again causes illnesses.
http://www.ars-tratnik.si/Polona%20Flesh%20of%20the%20World.htm
To become is always to become with many reminds me again to reiterate and to thank the many numbers of Cornerhouse people from front of house to behind the scenes who designed, built and cared for the work and who are still invigilating and minding it all so beautifully. It’s really a collaborative piece and I loved being only one of the many dynamic members of the team who made it happen - and to The Arts Catalyst, in particular Rob La Frenais and Gillean Dickie.