ABACUS was a remarkable performance that has its own positive and negative sides. To be honest, I had some expectations but I did not expect it to be interesting. Amazingly, the last fifteen minutes changed my mind.
The performance did not fulfill my expectations of the arrangement of the six panels. The presentation and use of the six panels were weak in that it left me trying to connect the images. I thought that they would create an artwork by arranging the six panels like that. For example, have each one represent something different or to use each one to emphasize a single image or meaning. Instead most of the time, they used the panels to show an entire image. If they were to do that, why didn’t they just have one screen? They can easily split up the cameras by relocating the screenshots. Many would argue that the six panels do actually have different purposes. One argument would be that only some screens show the camera and the other panels would show something else. It was very interesting to see him performing live while looking through the screen as if I was watching television. He was reachable, as well as unreachable. Although it is quite ironic that he mentioned that we should mind the gap between people but he stood right in the middle of the screen, as if he’s preventing the screens to connect. Or he could be the connection. As much as I tried to enjoy it, it felt like a philosophy lecture instead of a performance most of the time. Or maybe because the points he mentioned have already crossed my mind before. But other than these aspects, I did enjoy the rest of the performance.
I enjoy the audience participation that Abacus implemented in this performance. One of my favorite participations was the roller coaster ride. I loved the lighting effects that went along with his yelling, which was expressed an enormous amount of emotions. The effects were so amazing that the audience had no choice but to raise their arm and enjoy the roller coaster ride. A connection was established between the audience and Abacus at that time. It was a connection that portrayed what Abacus said at the beginning. Abacus said that the whole room was full of energy, like he and the audience were that one energy and when Pangaea existed. The loud noises from the speakers and audience, the green and red light flashing, and our aligned actions as we pretended to be on a roller coaster, it made me feel magnanimous. I actually felt like I could change something in this world.
As much as I would love to say that the performance was entertaining for the whole hour, I was only amazed near the last fifteen minutes. Most of the time, there were two cameras following Abacus around the stage. I only saw the full effect of the cameras near the end when the cameramen spun the cameras and the cameramen themselves started to spin around in a circular motion. It was an art between human and technology and a newfound outcome comes forth. It was an interesting concept that I have never saw before. All the emotions Abacus built up through the whole performance was perfect for the end. His sudden death brought out the meaning that one man’s consciousness could easily be destroyed. An idea that could save the world could be gone in one second. But it did not matter if he died. Maybe in the next life or so, someone will walk to an audience and perform the same ideas, which explain why he said the same exact line at the end that he said near the beginning.
At the end, I was left with a shocked face. The performance was well done in the aspect that all his ideas built up to a climax that left many people stunned. It is an awesome performance to enjoy hearing about the connection in the world but the ending is worth much more.
yeah, I thought the choreography of the steady-cam dancers was great.
ReplyDeleteJames Cunningham, an Australian dancer and friend of mine, also experimented with this idea in a solo human/camera performance he did at the live.media+performance.lab workshop at EMPAC last month. It was interesting, because this interaction between man and machine in dance is strangely isolating and stoic, but at the same time also incredibly captivating...