Hypnotic-Show-Artissima.Pdf

Scripts based on historic exhibitions, to be experienced under hypnosis or in one’s preferred reading state. Written by Sofía Hernández Chong Cuy, Angie Keefer, John Menick and Robert Snowden. Curated by Raimundas Malašauskas Hypnotised by Marcos Lutyens and Annalisa Fruttero Assisted by Agatha Wara Hypnotic Show Produced by Artissima 18 Hypnotic Show, 2011 2011 7. 25. 40. 57. You’re on stage, You are in a hotel, The building is huge, It’s a mess. You can’t kneeling, in a black lying wide-awake painted white and feels see anything clearly. dress in one The 43. 9. 28. Some weeks ago, 59. You smell treason. And You are in a derelict you spoke to a man Beneath the horizon, a as you walk closer to wharf building. Rust- camping chariot or sleigh, a 11. 29. 46. 61. You really shouldn’t be You are abandoned in Some things you see An austere white here, you know. Your the Archaeological you can never forget. building crowned by a It’s filigree 13. 30. You lie on your back in What you are looking 48. a clearing. Treetops at is not a perfect Soft pink walls. A dimly lit bathroom 15. 32. barely You enter an empty This square room is courtroom. Just to your not quite a room, more 50. Pedestrians, men, 17. 33. women, are milling. You arrive at the house There’s a whirling you’ve been looking sound coming from the 51. On an escalator 19. 35. moving upward You are wandering There are many rooms through a through an old house. here, and many ob- 53. 20. 36. Mommy took you to You are walking down The pianist enters the work today. It’s your a crowded sidewalk room. His name is 55. 23. 38. It’s dawn. The sky is You are in a world of The moon is spread pale. You tread across information, language out below, its surface a layer Index I Index I 7. 29. 50. John Menick Angie Keefer Angie Keefer 9. 30. 51. Sofía Hernández John Menick Angie Keefer Chong Cuy 32. 53. 11. Angie Keefer John Menick John Menick 33. 55. 13. John Menick Angie Keefer Angie Keefer 35. 57. 15. Angie Keefer Sofía Hernández Angie Keefer Chong Cuy 36. 17. John Menick 59. Sofía Hernández Angie Keefer Chong Cuy 38. John Menick 61. 19. Angie Keefer Angie Keefer 40. Sofía Hernández 20. Chong Cuy Sofía Hernández Chong Cuy 43. Sofía Hernández 23. Chong Cuy Angie Keefer 46. 25. Robert Snowden Sofía Hernández Chong Cuy 48. Angie Keefer 28. Angie Keefer Index II ou’re on stage, kneeling, in a black dress with black stockings, under a hot spotlight. Y You’re not sweating, yet, and if you do sweat, that’s fine too. Your left foot is asleep – pins and needles – but you can’t do anything about that now. Best to clear your mind and look straight ahead. In front of you, on stage, is a pair of silver scissors. You picked silver, you remember, because it would shine, and people could see the scissors from the back of the theatre. They’re not real silver, just silver in colour, meaning reflective. You – kneeling – and the scissors – shining – under the spotlight. There’s an audience out there, a few hundred people, sitting in rows of wooden seats. But you can’t see them, either the people or the seats. From the stage, the audience is invisible, submerged in black. In fact, if it weren’t for the wooden floor of the stage, you wouldn’t be able to see anything: just you and the sounds of the audience giggling, clapping or talking among themselves. Someone appears from the murmuring darkness in front of you, a young man in white trousers and green sweater. He hops up on the stage and walks toward you. The man picks up the scissors and opens the blades. His eyes search your body. No, not exactly 6 7 your body – your dress – and he lowers the blades to your left shoulder. You don’t look at him. You look toward the audience. You can feel the cool metal where your shoulder slopes up to meet your neck. He ou smell treason. And as you walk closer to snips. The cut is not into your skin, but a millimetre the building entrance, you see the minor above, into your black dress. He snips again, careful Y insurrection bubbling at the plaza in front not to hurt you; a large drop of sweat dangles at the of the museum. The flyers and pamphlets that are tip of his nose, then falls, splashing on the wooden being distributed are about Burma; they are against stage. He snips twice more – fast – and a square of the government. fabric falls away from your dress near your left shoul- You recognise some people. Clearly, no one appears der. Then the man places the scissors in front of you to be a local citizen. OK, maybe one or two people and jumps off the stage. among a dozen are from the town. You know this Two breaths later, a woman, no older than 20, with because they are dressed in traditional clothing. The black-framed glasses and a severe look, replaces him others at the plaza have all travelled to be there; just on the stage. She picks up the scissors. You can’t see as you have. her face – you’re looking straight ahead, remember – Across the plaza you see an elegant man seduc- but you can see her hand dangling in front of you, the ing a group of people. He is The Traitor. You meet scissors gripped by the thumb and index finger. She his partner, The Collaborator, and exchange brief leans in and presses the scissors between your breasts. words with her. Then, someone next to you in- People in the audience giggle; the scissors clip off the troduces himself as The Traducer. He points to a front gold buttons on your dress. Your dress falls open woman nearby who is The Experientialist. You are in slightly. The young woman leans back, examines her the midst of it, and have not even stepped into the work and quickly leaves the stage. exhibition. You decide to go inside the museum. To your right, a long, long hall leads to dozens of galleries, to the left and right. There is one artwork in each space: some are drawings, some paintings. To your left, another long, long hall leads to another dozen 8 9 of galleries. There are more rooms with videos at this end of the building. You decide to take the stairs and go up to the sec- ond floor. On your way up, in the foyer, you admire ou really shouldn’t be here, you know. Your a number of hyper-realist paintings. These paintings contact got up to use the bathroom, leav- are large, and are so well made that they look like Y ing you alone at the table, but it’s risky to be photographs. They depict scenes that are exactly like here. You could be seen here – you and him – and the one you are in at the moment: people looking at that would be trouble. This is a restaurant you go art in a museum. to often, without him. You know people here. You As you walk, you see more paintings of art and know the owner. ‘Shit, this was a bad idea,’ you think spectators in different kinds of exhibitions. You don’t to yourself. recognise any artwork, nor any one person. You can’t Then there is that man across from you; the man tell if you are looking at a painting or if you are in one in the leather jacket with the bad hair. That guy, of those paintings. And, suddenly, again, you smell probably in his thirties. He got here just after you, treason. That scent of betrayal in the plaza is now a seated immediately after you, chose a table right smell of duplicity in this room. People are looking across from you and seems to have been pacing at you looking at art. You are inside a painting of an his meal according to your meal – the meal you’re exhibition. not supposed to be having. When you ordered the appetizer, he ordered his. When you sent back your undercooked entrée, he waited to start his. It’s almost like he is eating with you. But he isn’t eating with you. He’s at the table over there. And you are over here, with your contact, with this guy who you shouldn’t be seen with. The other guy, the one over there with the bad haircut and leather jacket, you’ve seen him before. You saw him in the park today, right before coming here. That’s it. He was in the park. Sitting across 10 11 from you. Is he following you? Is he from the office? Does he know why you’re here? Okay, stop being paranoid. It’s the situation, not this guy in the jacket. This is sloppy. If he finds out what’s going on, you’re ou lie on your back in a clearing. Treetops finished. Just leave the package for your man in the come into focus above you. You are sur- bathroom and leave. Y rounded by small wood-frame houses with What is taking so long in that fucking bathroom? porches, neatly arranged along the square perimeter ‘Waiter,’ you say, ‘check please’.

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