Adopting the moniker of “the grandmother of performance art”, New York-based Serbian artist Marina Abramovic has spent decades challenging gender roles, the performer/audience relationship and the limits of the body. She has cut and flogged herself, invited audiences to harm her and worked extensively with ex-partner Uwe ‘Ulay’ Laysiepen with whom, the film reveals, she had a very tumultuous relationship. Matthew Aker’s documentary aims not only to give insight into this forceful personality, but also to document Abramaovic’s most recent achievement: a three-month exhibition in MOMA that not only recreated her most (in)famous works, but a new exhibit: an epic piece in which she sat motionless for every second of the museum’s opening hours for three months, while individual spectators sat opposite and gazed back for any amount of time desired. And it’s stunning.
Shot as beautifully as one would hope for an art documentary, the first act is dedicated to introducing both Marina’s work and her incomparable character. 65, beautiful and glamorous, the artist is funny, self-deprecating and both theatrical and calming. As magnetic preparing dinner as she is when standing naked and self-mutilated in an exhibition space, it’s no wonder that so many people flocked to sit in her unwavering gaze.
And the reactions of those lucky audience members who face her are more fascinating, beautiful and enthralling than could be imagined. From joyful smiles, to many tears of unspoken hurt, anger, sadness, gratitude and above all, a sense of connection, the emotional response evoked by Marina’s serene, empathic gaze is indisputable. And not just on the individual sitting opposite her – when Ulay takes the hotseat, the silent interaction between the two, that unspoken moment of recognition and remembrance of tumultuous history, drew tears and applause from both the on and off-screen audiences.
Often choosing to shoot Marina staring straight into camera so that her gaze seems fixated on the film’s viewer, Aker brilliantly transforms the audience from one of film to one of art, managing to evoke the same sense of intimate examination as experienced in a museum.
Fascinating, beautiful and enthralling, The Artist Is Present paints an intriguing portrait of an incredible subject, and is not to be missed.