WOMAN WILLING TO DEFEND HER HOTEL – MEXICO CITY [ZOCALO]

HOTEL ISABEL 2003

I was invited to Mexico City in the fall of 2003 on a research and production grant from the Conseil des Arts et des Lettres du Quebec with six other female artists during the “Voila Quebec Festival”, a Mexican – Canadian Artists Cultural Exchange.

‘woman willing to defend her hotel’ is a performance work that took place at the entrance to the Hotel Isabel close to the Presidential palace. In this highly suggestive and transient environment of a hotel, this intervention became an interactive space concentrating on points of friction between public and private space.

I stood outside the hotel for about three hours and guarded the hotel in a burlesque kind of fashion, with the security guard dressed in a sort of “Lara Croft/Patty Hearst” military uniform. As I handed out a soft-pliable toy or “lookalike grenades” to a passersby or tourists from the hotel, I advised participants in Spanish that the object and its purpose was “for protection…”.

I had stuffed fake Mexican money in my pockets and army jacket and awarded this out generously to the public security force or/and police in uniform outside the entrance to the hotel (there is a very large security presence felt in Mexico city, especially protecting the streets of the Zocalo, the historic district close to the Presidential Palace and they are dressed in different forms of uniform and stature). 

• Performing in front of the camera has always seemed so immediate.
• Since the 1960s, if not before, artists have centered their work more increasingly and offensively on issues of socio-political parameters
• In action, performance can reveal the way in which body language and gesture interact and define our relationships with one another and the world around us.

As one examines the “culture of fear” that appears to be of increasing magnitude and importance all over the world, humanity is far from convinced that social order is recovering – rather, that the present populace is living through and in an age of terrorism, environmental disaster and widening inequality.

I have also been very interested in manifestations of fear both on a personal and social level, and as captured in the popular imagination. This early body of work also serves as an inquiry into how some of the phenomena associated with fear are constituted and negotiated.

The digital stills [self-portraits] and the recording of the video that resulted from this performance led to my return to Mexico by invitation to a private gallery, ‘Galeria Nina Menocal’ in order to present this work once again to the art community at large.

Photography’s relationship to reality has been irrevocably transformed by the numerous ways in which images are now constructed.

Using this kind of documentation is fundamental for artists today who seek to articulate concerns relating to contemporary global events and experiences as they evolve in the world around us, rather then simply capture the memory of them.

 ~~~~~~ 

You can see more of her work at: http://cargocollective.com/julianaespanakeller

Back in 2007, in Canada when I went shopping, and I special like to shop when we was getting ready to go to the country to our shallot. O.K. it wasn’t really a shallot, it was a cottage (Emphasis on second syllable). all right it was just a cabin. O.K., all right, it really was just a little shack on a lac, but it was our place to go in the summer and I loved to go there mit the whole family.

We was going for the whole vacation… some years even three whole weeks. My husband and the kids they like to fish, and to go in the woods. I just love to go in the water and shvim, my favourite shvim stroke, the mechiah stroke. A mechiah, oi what a pleasure.

So one year we are going to our little shack on the lac, and they was putting up a sign there and it’s saying don’t eat the fish! Nu, I have to tell you, I’m not so crazy about fish. After all who has to clean the fish, and bake the fish, and pan fry the fish, and then clean up after everyone eats the fish? O.K. so we not eating the fish.

The next year we are going up to our shack on the lac and they puts a new sign what says: Don’t go fishing on this lac. It was anyways beginning to be a funny colour from purple, so the husband and the kids didn’t go so much fishing. Do I look like a fisherperson? I still went a little bit in the water… special when it was really hot, and in those days it was very hot. Global Warning they called it, but no one paid attention.

Then one year we are going up to the shack on the lac, and it was a new sign there it says: Don’t go in the lac at all. I am telling you the colour from orange it didn’t looks so good and I didn’t want to go near this kind water with all the dead fish and the smell. They was saying that the funny colour from orange it was caused by the Chassidic rain! Can you imaging those Chassidim, they really gets around. They tells us that the Chassidic rain is also causing the big holes in the oozing liars and I don’t mean the politicians here. And that’s also why they having such bad ultra violent rays. You can’t go out from the house without lots of sun scream on your skin.

This holes in the oozing liars was also causing horrible things in the weather. Yes! Sure! It was causing EL Nino, El Noo noo and the worst, LA NUDNIKA. They was the cause of giant ice sturms in Canada! Then they was the reason for the big fires in Florida. So now we had nowhere to go in the winter to get away from the ice sturms.

The silly thing was even with the sun screams I always turned pink in the summer, and in the winter I was a real ugly shame from blue grey. Oh yeah, we had all kinds different colour peoples in 2000. Surprised? Yeah it was strange to, the white people went into the sun so they could be more like the brown peoples. Some brown and black people really wanted to be bleached into whiter people or they had special operations So they was red people, and yellow people, and coffee coloured people, and pink, I already was telling you and blue and white. The really strange thing is all these people from different colours was not liking each other. Sometimes they couldn’t standing each other, as a matter from fact they was hating each other! So why they was trying always to look like each other?

People wasn’t so smart like in 2007, not like you. Look, look at you! Such beautiful colours from green! Look over there… we gots a chartreuse to die for, and that mint green, I like also that forest green over in the back. You, yes, you are beautiful. Terrific childrens. You are all gorgeous!!!!

Best from all is how you all loves each other on the planet Cassandra. So, what’s not to love?

But now, thanks to the marvel of this new technology, the internet, I fancy myself something of a royal messenger.  And here you have the message.  (gesture to covered object topped with crown).  Can you guess what it is?  No? Would it help if I did this? (unveil the bag with suitable flourish) 

Yes, it is a handbag.  But not just any old handbag; it is a VIRTUAL handbag.  And not just any old virtual handbag.  Can you guess whose?  Yes, that’s right, it’s the QUEEN’S virtual handbag.  An “exact likeness”, according to the packaging here . 

Now, I hardly need tell you why the Queen’s Handbag is not only of interest to most discerning folk, but also something of a national treasure.  For I am sure that you’re as curious as I (raise and lower right index finger) about what’s in it…important things I imagine…curious things too. 

For what do we really know about her royal majesty, THE WOMAN?   Other than the unfortunate fact that she heads quite a dysfunctional family?  Which, don’t get me wrong, is nice in a way, for it gives her that common touch.  But, is to know the family scandal to know the woman?   Wouldn’t that be too simple?  As though to say the queen is simply the head on the loonie?   Or the bit in the middle that drops out of the toonie.  Which I don’t think I am…she is…am I…I mean…is she?  No, certainly not.!

By revealing the contents of the bag, I can, at long last, ladies and gentleman, give you (gesture)……….. THE WOMAN! 

For your information the bag can be downloaded, zipped and unzipped, if you have a good hard drive and are so driven, as am I.   

“REMOVE THE INSTRUCTIONS ATTACHED TO THE BAG”

 “INSTRUCTIONS “

For maximum effect the bag MUST be opened before an audience of not less than (count heads)…people. There is a poem in the envelope attached to the bag that is to be read whilst a little boy of 9-11, in his latent stage, carefully removes the contents, on cue.
 

WARNING

Once the contents are being removed you must not stop or else …oooooooooooohh. This virtual handbag and its contents are non-refundable.  KEEP  WITHIN REACH OF CHILDREN.

TO BEGIN:

(you ask) :  Is there a little boy of 9 –11, latent, in the audience?
(you ask):  Your name?                                                                                                           
                                     Volunteer: …………………………….
(you say):  That’s nice.   But I’m going to call you Ollie.   Ladies and   
                   gentlemen (gesture) I give you Ollie.
(you ask):  Are you a royalist?
                                     Volunteer:  What’s that?
(you say): Well done! 
(you ask):…are you latent?
                                     Volunteer:  Yes!
(you say):  Well done!  Come up here.
(you test):  Do you like touching squishy things and slimy things for no  
                   apparent reason?
                                    Volunteer:  Yeh, howdidyaknow?
(you say):  No reason.
(you say):  Ollie, kneel down.  Now roll up your sleeves and prepare  
                  yourself.
(you say):  Ollie?              
                                   Volunteer: yeh?
(you say): There could be jelly in the bag… or frog spawn. 
                                    Volunteer: yeh.

REMOVE THE POEM FROM THE ENVELOPE ATTACHED TO THE BAG .

“POEM

(you read)

In the queen’s handbag there is:

NOT a little handkerchief bearing the royal seal, a packet of gum drops, OR library card…
(…Ollie?  don’t worry if some of this goes over your head dear…)

NO, there are NOT:

Biscuits, worm pills and butchers bone (oh I’d so hoped…)

Platinum poop scoop and canine phone

No, they- are- not- there.

IN the queen’s handbag the following are conspicuously absent:

A big old tobacco pouch, sour balls in a tin….
A plastinated love letter from Ras-pu-tin) (that would have been of a private nature I imagine)

Glycerine capsules for ready tears
Doddering pills for sympathy cheers…(.dear queeny)

A bicycle pump for the frequent occasion
that air escapes from Phillip
requiring RE-inflation  (ooh that might have explained  it)

A compact mirror featuring Phillip’s royal bum
A French/English dictionary no bigger than a crumb (I’ve got one of those)

Poisons and pillboxes of bewildering array
Viles and syringes and works… just for play

(…wait for it Ollie…wait for it…)

Bank rolls of plastic from off shore accounts…
Hitler’s moustache and…  
Hitler’s pants…
(……)

Beards, teeth and noses
for easy disguise
bomb making equipment
and a book of very goodlies
(she doesn’t look the type…)

A plan for world domination dated 1952
(the year of the coronation!…)
A book of potions to help her get there too

A punishing manual for edifying
Thumb screws and spikes for terrifying
(…not a very nice thought that…)

Waxen images of Camilla and Charles
Cock’s blood, pins, hair, skin and nails…
(no no no no…imagine!))

…The bag might have been a decoy
for that wooden arm  
that eerily creaks
when the weather gets warm?

But NO! it is not.

Though the handbag might
be wearing the dowager
as the heart, soul and spleen
of her majesty’s power…(I wouldn’t be without mine either).

It is not a galaxy or gateway
to other dimensions
nor a time machine
nor worm hole in suspension…
(…you’d have lost me there…)

Let’s be realistic shall we
the bag has a certain elasticity
the ROD, that’s not there, OLLIE
Would have proven it’s nuclear capacity (fancy that!)
…and the plug
would have fit in
…to her nostrils…

Know now that there is
no transformer …
with action flip!
nor telephone number
of the mother ship..
(I would have respected her privacy…)

IF someone dared say the bag was EMPTY?
You might have replied
it’s a vacuum stupid
for splitting nucleii…(like…a hoover)

But it’s not.

In the queen’s handbag there is not and never will be:

A little placenta, a pure protein dose
next to an enema bag… and an enema hose…

While it would be beneath the queen
to wipe stool from stern
and rather a job for a subaltern,
it’s easy to see how an anal attendant
might sell the story that sticks
thereby leaving her majesty
up to her delicate neck in it…
SO…reasonably speaking… a colostomy bag
there would also have to be!
…..My poor 9 – 11 year old
…Ollie.

But, the truth is,
her highness’s handbag
has none of these things
because let’s face it,
there’s not enough space
But if 3 ladies-in-waiting
and 2 footmen sit down
it just about fits in her case
…Her suitcase
….the big blue one…
with the royal seal…
the virtual likeness
of which
can be fully downloaded…

(…is there anything in the blessed handbag then?)

In the queen’s handbag there’s really only room for the following:

(oh dear…)

A team of existentialists
to teach the human condition
of subject/ object an-on-y-mi-ty  
and social exclusion

The complete A-Z
of how to pat-ron-ize
subjects, her objects
living everywhere she goes.

…A sack of amnesiacs
who say it’s nice to be nice
that the queen is a mumsy
made of sugar and spice
(now that’s…nice…)

A herd of his-to-rians
who stuff us with dates.
Sod the details of colonialism,
racism, orientalism,
nationalism, industrialism,
corporatism, fetishism,
consumerism, expansionism,
hypnotism, nihilism,
escapism,
call it capitalism…
mate

Oh, if only the monarch were simply a butterfly…

….Are you still having fun? (….no)
For I have to tell you
the bag is nearly done

Since the aim was to deconstruct
to avoid cliché
the bag shall
silently
self-corrupt
…In 10 seconds no
make that 9
8

(You can take your hand out now…Ollie? …is it?  Ollie dear.)

(Though fun at first it’s become quite confusing
We preferred it I think when it was more amusing.)

(What’s this Ollie?  A…a knitting needle, is it!?  And…and…a message!?)

“MESSAGE:
O!! Ohhhhh
  You have removed the SAFETY PIN
WHICH triggers SUDDEN BAG-DESTRUCTION
in 
10 seconds
NO
make that 9 

For your own protection…put the bag in the BIGTIN-

YOU- DID- DOWNLOAD THE TIN ……………
…YOU DIDN’T… DID YOU… 
THE big TIN WAS INTENDED FOR PUTTING THE BAG IN.

Volunteer:  big tin?
(you say):  tin.
(together):  tin.

(together grab the black blanket, cover bag, clasp ears) 

TERRIBLE EXPLOSION!  Or tiny phut sound) 

(you disappear)

END