Bound
This is my piece for the Live Art Night and was the evolution of my previous piece, Oppressed. I changed the title to Bound and I like that title much more. In Spanish, Adrian Martinez's original title Oprimiods works well, but I didn't think it translated as well as I wanted. I made the piece my own enough that it is really different from Martinez's. But I still need to acknowledge the inspiration. Nonetheless, our intention is very similar between the two pieces.
For Bound, I changed many elements. Firstly, the space was changed from a small, dark closet (A pun on "being locked in the closet" haha) in the McWeathy art building at Cornell to a much larger room in the Thomas Commons. This room was relatively secluded, and signs needed to point audience members toward my piece, located away from the main performance area. Once they got to the room, they saw two signs taped to a door that was blacked out completely (to not allow light in). You can read the signs below. The first sign included the title of my piece, the artist's name, a stiff content warning and a notice that I was taking the proper precautions and was in no time in any real, physical danger. I found this to be important to tell my audience because many people were so moved that they became really afraid for my safety. During the performance, which lasted for over an hour, two people tried to come and help me with the chains and wire, but with no luck. I was really in there.
The second sign included my artist statement, which was inspired by Adrian Martinez's statement for Oprimidos and another piece he did about homophobia. I refined this statement many times and was very happy with how powerful and succinct it was. I made it clear how this piece is about the personal struggle faced by young LGBT people.
This piece, like all art, is very personal. It's impossible to separate the artist's personal life and memories from their art. During the creation of this piece, I was constantly reminded of my past, of the pain and incredible struggle I went through as an adolescent growing up in a particularly conservative community in south Florida. I don't want to give a personal history, and that was not the intention of my piece. But it was very inspired by real events and while performing Bound I myself was struck by it's power and was flooded with terrible memories and experiences. I had to vent many times to my assistant when no audience members were in the room. This piece was very emotionally moving for everyone involved, artist, assistant and audience included.
The room was a very large classroom, but totally dark and without windows or other light sources. The audience came in through the door into the dark room, only to see in the corner, to the left and out of their view, a glowing red light and the sound of my struggles. Chains against metal. Chains against chains and wire. Heavy breathing. Grunting. They poke their head around the corner and see me, chained and bound to the stool, struggling, again with black tape over my mouth. I struggle, clearly in grave distress, and in between my fits I sit and breath, defeated, and look my audience in the eyes with a look of anguish. I only received anguished expressions in return. Many people could not stay long, although they wanted to. The red light came from a single bulb, at my feet. The chains and the front of my body was illuminated, but there were amazing shadows and my long shadow, writhing and struggling, was cast on the wall behind me. Overall, it was a very powerful and impactful sight to behold. Twice in my struggles, my glasses fell off, and i was unable to retrieve them until audience members had left the room. Once, I knocked the light over, and a distressed audience member who I did not know came over to me, picked up the light, placed it back where it was and gave me the most unnerving smile I have ever seen, before quickly darting away and out the door. She looked like she was holding back tears. I stared at her, bound and with tape over my mouth, unresponsive but clearly in anguish.
For Bound, I changed many elements. Firstly, the space was changed from a small, dark closet (A pun on "being locked in the closet" haha) in the McWeathy art building at Cornell to a much larger room in the Thomas Commons. This room was relatively secluded, and signs needed to point audience members toward my piece, located away from the main performance area. Once they got to the room, they saw two signs taped to a door that was blacked out completely (to not allow light in). You can read the signs below. The first sign included the title of my piece, the artist's name, a stiff content warning and a notice that I was taking the proper precautions and was in no time in any real, physical danger. I found this to be important to tell my audience because many people were so moved that they became really afraid for my safety. During the performance, which lasted for over an hour, two people tried to come and help me with the chains and wire, but with no luck. I was really in there.
The second sign included my artist statement, which was inspired by Adrian Martinez's statement for Oprimidos and another piece he did about homophobia. I refined this statement many times and was very happy with how powerful and succinct it was. I made it clear how this piece is about the personal struggle faced by young LGBT people.
This piece, like all art, is very personal. It's impossible to separate the artist's personal life and memories from their art. During the creation of this piece, I was constantly reminded of my past, of the pain and incredible struggle I went through as an adolescent growing up in a particularly conservative community in south Florida. I don't want to give a personal history, and that was not the intention of my piece. But it was very inspired by real events and while performing Bound I myself was struck by it's power and was flooded with terrible memories and experiences. I had to vent many times to my assistant when no audience members were in the room. This piece was very emotionally moving for everyone involved, artist, assistant and audience included.
The room was a very large classroom, but totally dark and without windows or other light sources. The audience came in through the door into the dark room, only to see in the corner, to the left and out of their view, a glowing red light and the sound of my struggles. Chains against metal. Chains against chains and wire. Heavy breathing. Grunting. They poke their head around the corner and see me, chained and bound to the stool, struggling, again with black tape over my mouth. I struggle, clearly in grave distress, and in between my fits I sit and breath, defeated, and look my audience in the eyes with a look of anguish. I only received anguished expressions in return. Many people could not stay long, although they wanted to. The red light came from a single bulb, at my feet. The chains and the front of my body was illuminated, but there were amazing shadows and my long shadow, writhing and struggling, was cast on the wall behind me. Overall, it was a very powerful and impactful sight to behold. Twice in my struggles, my glasses fell off, and i was unable to retrieve them until audience members had left the room. Once, I knocked the light over, and a distressed audience member who I did not know came over to me, picked up the light, placed it back where it was and gave me the most unnerving smile I have ever seen, before quickly darting away and out the door. She looked like she was holding back tears. I stared at her, bound and with tape over my mouth, unresponsive but clearly in anguish.
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