Forensic evidence of failure Crush door Andra Ursuta, 2011 Tentoonstelling ‘Body language’,
najaar-winter 2013 Vraag: Crush
(2011) is a very realistic full body cast of you, nude, as a flattened stone
age peat bog mummy, covered in what appears to be an enormous amount of
semen. Why put yourself in this position? And how did you make such a thing? Ursuta: It’s
a very uncomfortable and slightly melodramatic description of an emotional
state, of feelings of rejection and worthlessness. Like most of my works, it
started with a very dumb, literal understanding of the word “crush.” Crush is
the sum of all crushes that lead to heartbreak experienced over a lifetime,
or over centuries, if you think of the female protagonist as an archetypal
used and discarded woman. Vraag: That
seems like an incredibly negative statement — that women are essentially “cum
dumpsters,” defined by their relationships to men, and literally crushed by
the disappointment of their expectations. Ursuta: Yes,
I’ve been there. Crush is a self-portrait that fulfills all those
requirements. It’s made from a female perspective that tries to mimic macho detachment
and fails, implying a violent and degrading self-annihilation. The female
subject’s expectations are only part of it, there are also cultural
expectations that go against them. I rejected the misogynistic culture I came
from [Roemenië] and at the same
time, although it’s not cool to admit it, I don’t relate to the liberal
sexual attitudes of the ultra-civilized society I now live in. They both lead
to the sense of being interchangeable and therefore worthless. So Crush is
really about a personal and somewhat neurotic failure to optimally function
in the contemporary world. Vraag: How
does the representation of your flattened body in Crush function differently
than the flattened version of your body that you created as part of Vandal
Lust (2011)? Ursuta: The
body in Vandal Lust is more of a prop, but other than that, they are very
similar. Both works allude to events that result in the destruction of their
protagonist. They are cartoonish skits that lead you to imagine an optimistic
beginning while confronting you with the aftermath of a disaster. These
pieces are only sculptures by default; they mainly function as forensic
evidence of failure. Andra Ursuta (1979) Ursuta is geboren en getogen in Roemenië. Ze groeide op in zoals ze zegt “a shitty house in a shitty town in a shitty country”. Haar laatste middelbare schoojaar doorliep ze in Florida (VS) als uitwissel-student en ze is in het land gebleven, in 1997 kwam ze naar New York. Haar werk grijpt terug op jeugdervaringen maar, zegt ze, ik ben niet echt een Roemeense kunstenaar, als ik daar nog had gewoond had ik dit werk niet kunnen maken. Ze denkt dat veel mensen van haar leeftijd in Roemenië nu
nog steeds ‘Ceausescu’s generatie’ zijn omdat ze geboren werden in een tijd
dat abortus illegaal was. “Veel
van ons zijn ongewenste kinderen. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be here.
I certainly wouldn't be here.” Haar werk is vaak autobiografisch maar ze vindt het niet belangrijk
dat mensen dat weten omdat het gevaarlijk is als de zeggingskracht van een
werk afhankelijk is van die kennis. Want als die kennis er niet meer is, zakt
het werk in elkaar als het daardoor gedragen werd. Een kunstwerk moet op
zichzelf kunnen staan zelfs als ze daarvoor afgietsels van haar eigen lichaam
heeft gebruikt. “I feel like
with the pieces where I used my body, or parts of my body, there is a
physical comedy that is implied in what the piece is. Like a tragicomedy.” “Art is a way for me to test-drive uncomfortable things.” (Bron) Saatchi
Gallery, Londen Foto’s:
november 2013 Startpagina Buitenbeeldinbeeld Startpagina Beelden in Engelse Musea |