In 2011, 6 years on from ‘Film for my Nanna’, I restaged the ‘bride searching for a groom’ performance at the Venice Biennale, and on the walkways of Venice. This time, I actually wanted to get married to someone, specifically a european, so i could get a visa to live abroad. I really wanted to get married in Venice. Unfortunately when I looked into the possibility of marrying a stranger, I saw that you have to stay in Italy 30 days before you are permitted to marry. I couldn’t afford that. So I just walked around as a bride and spoke to lots of different people.
Performance for Parlour Project at 13 Rooms, May 19th 2013, Pier 2/3, Walsh Bay, Sydney
An evening in which I threw my $500 artist fee away to strangers in the space of five minutes.
After my initial project for Parlour was pulled due to OH and S concerns, I was keen to do something quick, easy and effective that would have no problem passing through the censors. So I decided to give my artist fee away as a performance.
While I threw five $50 dollar notes at strangers with a fan blowing behind me, my accomplice, Jodie Franco, moved around the parameters of the crowd and handed out the remaining five $50 notes to strangers, stating “This is a gift from the artist Anastasia Klose”. When individuals expressed confusion at being given $50 randomly, Jodie soothingly instructed people to take the money and enjoy it. By the end of the five minute performance, ten $50 notes were handed out.
It’s nice to be given money by a stranger and it practically never happens. People are seemingly unwilling to take money as limits of protocol and proprietary are tested – the uncomfortable feeling of taking free money conflicts with the lovely feeling of winning or being chosen. While the banners for the Commonwealth Bank hung behind me in the giant barn of pier 2/3, I was giving it away. It was a funny, moving and strangely polite performance.
Thank you to Jodie and Heath Franco and to all those who looked on.
Curated by SuperKaleidoscope and funded by Kaldor Projects
Early in Feb, 2012, I got stuck on an idea for a performance. I wanted to recreate that feeling one gets when one sees someone trying to dance in earnest, someone who is not a very good dancer. It’s fascinating to watch. One night, when I was waiting for my bus, I noticed a young woman dancing through the windows of a bar. She was gently gyrating and trying to look appealing in a sincere way. There was no irony about her dancing – she was trying to dance well. This was making her appear very vulnerable. I couldn’t stop watching her; she looked quite awkward but she kept going. I watched her until my bus arrived.(This is a great example one of those memories that hang around, and I never know why they stick, until they end up being ideas for artworks).
For the Re-Living Room, I wanted to be that girl. I wanted to give people that experience of watching someone dance in earnest. I also wanted to try and dance like Beyonce. I also wanted people to watch videoclips from the past. I also wanted to re-live a period of my past where I sat on the couch for a couple of months avoiding life and dancing to video clips. I also wanted… well, alot of things.
So I danced for 6 hours a day, every day for 2 months, in the MCA, to video clips of female popstars. People could come in and sit and watch my dance, or watch me sit around texting people. I was living life on the stage.
I permanently injured my knees in week 3. My knees swelled up to balloons for weeks. Some days all I could do was sit. Any movement caused me pain. I just had to get through it. (Now I can no longer kneel , squat or run. I hope this sorts itself out.)
So many good times! The people who danced with me, and made me smile. You know who you are!
If you visited – thank you.
Photo credits: Installation view, Primavera 2012, Museum of Contemporary Art Australia
Image courtesy Museum of Contemporary Art Australia
© Anastasia Klose
Photograph: Alex Davies
A month long live performance!
Basically, I sat in bed in the gallery for a month and typed shit on my laptop nonstop and it got dataprojected above my head. I did not talk. I only talked via typing.
I typed whatever I wanted. The audience were requested not to talk to me, via a poster. I told fortunes and guessed people’s clothing brands. All via typing and making snap judgments.
It was hard to look audience members in the eye.
Mars Bars were left on a seat for people. Unbeknownst to them, they were purchased by me from the Reject Shop.
They sat in the dark and watched while I typed.
Thanks to an article in the Adelaide Advisor, I got a stalker. A man from Bowden. He tried to get into bed with me, on two different occasions. I finally broke, and told him to go away, using my real voice.
I now have about 400 pages of word document typing from this performance. It’s drivel. Alot of it is personal drivel though, as it’s much easier to be open with complete strangers.
I thought I might print it out and vaccuum seal it and turn it into a footstool.
This performance was bought to you by Doogie Howser, MD.
I left a blank book at the front of the gallery so people could write their responses to the performance. This turned out to be an inspired move, as many people wrote in the book. They needed a right-of-reply after being blathered at in silence by me.
-My Mom gave me this notepad for xmas. She wants me to be positive. I’m a natural born cynic. I appreciate what you’re doing. No one else has done it. It is a beautiful concept, and I wish I was sober and could stay to read every word you write. Alas I am among the night devil that calls my name. You inspire me. Thank you. Don’t stop. Mollie from New Orleans. PS I look forward to more of your work. I will google you ha ha. But seriously THANK YOU.
-I hope you were joking about Satellite of Love sucking, it’s my favourite song of all time. Harriet.
-I hate jazz too.
-I came here after the physio (stress), and this has been an additional release. As for being wrong, we’re in this together I think.
– Happiness is knowing you are right, don’t you think? Katherine.
-I loved what you wrote. About your Mum. Lynne.
– Why are you using a Mac? Macs suck arse, Lol.
– Get out of bed and do something with your life.
-Hello. What a strange experience. I felt all kind of things I wanted to say 2 u. It was like being in an ad. Thanku 4 the experience. Remember to breathe.
-(2nd page of letter. I’ve lost the first)….We only have now. You are living now. Sorry if I’m ranting. But my mom taught me to live for NOW! Trisha from Canada.
The Kiss 2011
I staged this photo-op at the Lorne Sculpture Biennale. I wanted to get strangers to kiss me in front of the sea, to try and create some sort of iconic image. I was inspired by Rodin’s sculpture entitled “The Kiss”, and also Robert Doisneau’s famous photo of the same name. Mum would take the photo, and I would send a copy to the people who kissed me as thanks, and I also thought it was a nice idea to give back, to send people something for their courage to be involved. I didn’t mind who kissed me and how, I thought it would just be fun to see what happened. Unfortunately, on the day, it was pouring with rain. It was cold and bleak. Also, mum turned up late to the photo shoot (!) so I had to use another photographer, Ian Macrae, who was kind enough to help. I felt terrible about all this as things had clearly gone to shit, but it was ok in a way, because the images were all that really mattered.
When that man kissed me, he had been drinking. He told me I was beautiful and immediately went in for “a pash”. I obliged, as I was happy that someone finally was kissing me properly, in that romantic way. I thought it would be great for the camera. When we started kissing, people started whooping and a hollerin’. It must have been a thrill to see some real action on the cold beach – finally, I was getting what I deserved. Things momentarily took on a gladiatorial feel, as if we were in the ring, performing primal actions for the vocal crowd. Our kissing had a strange mechanical aspect to it, like it does at a drunken year 9 party. Two mouths hone in, find their target, lock together, and tongue and jaw move accordingly. He must have kissed me for 10 seconds or so, but it felt like ages. He started to put his hands in my hair and all over my back as he kissed me. I remember thinking, when does a kiss stop being a kiss? And ok, this has gone far enough now. That’s why, in the last photo, you can see me trying to push him away. After our kiss, he was very pleasant and we said our goodbyes and I sent him some nice copies of the photos with a message saying “good times” or something like that.
Photographer: Ian Macrae
Notes on “Together” video, 2011
My mother and I danced at Southland for this video. We danced to Olivia Newton John’s song “Magic”. On the day of our filming, my mother and I went to Southland, and purchased matching dresses. We put them on in the toilets in Southland, and then did our dance, all while being filmed by my little sister, and her boyfriend. After our attempt at dancing, we then returned the dresses and got a refund. Then my sister’s boyfriend drove us all home. The video took about 40 minutes to film – and what you see in the video is exactly what happened.
The making of this work was highly fraught. Southland denied my filming request, so we had to film on the sly. I had also hired a choreographer to help us come up with an easy routine, but Mum absolutely hated doing the dancing lessons. The whole thing was a nightmare, but I was committed to it for the exhibition at GOMA, so I had to do it.