My work during my graduate studies used photography, installation and performance to investigate the failure of my sex life. While, in part, a completely narcissistic exercise, I also attempted to understand the desires, confusions, and failures of love, while reflecting on the vulnerability and anxiety most of us feel around sexuality. One of my goals of this project was to challenge typical notions of femininity, such as the paradigms of the virgin and the whore, which are still prevalent in our "post-feminist" world. At the same time, I attempted to convey the vulnerability around sex that is shared by all, not just by women. By exploiting my own failures, I was expand the conversations we have around sex, love, and relationships.
The work consisted of three pieces, viewable below. Click on the images for a slideshow.
Bunny Monologue (2010, single-channel video, 12 minutes) - video stills
In Bunny Monologue, I give up on any pretense of protecting my pride. I wear a large bunny outfit, stand in front of a green screen, and divulge the failure of my sex/romantic life. As my monologue progresses in revealing my failures and confusions with the opposite sex, the production of my video increasingly fails as well. The bunny suit as a troupe might signify sexiness and fertility (think Playboy Bunny or Jessica Rabbit), but my bunny suit is oversized with floppy ears that refuse to stand up. It is the anti-sexy, visually manifesting my shame and inability to have a successful relationship and sex life, while openly expressing the failure and embarrassment we all have (but usually hide) in some form or another in our lives.
The work operates in the confessional mode, indulging in the exhibitionistic need to share with others. The form of the confessional video, currently still popular in reality television and self-produced YouTube videos, allows anyone to share their story with the world, imagining themselves as unique and relatable at once. My monologue is no different -- seemingly unscripted, a stream of consciousness in which I try to work out my confusions. It is, however, scripted, performed, and produced to create the amateurish aesthetic. In part, this is intended to mimic my failures and inability to understand my love life, no matter how hard I try. I am an amateur in the world of love, and my attempts never quite make it wherever it is they are supposed to go, just as my video never quite achieves any sort of resolution.
Lover's Message (2010, video projection, pillow, embroidery) - installation shots
Lover's Message is an installation in which a video of myself, curled up sleeping, is projected. Nothing, happens, the body just sleeps. On the edge of the pillow, embroidered in pink thread, is a sentence a former lover once sent to me on Facebook: "I am attracted [enough] to you to have sex about once per week." This message, a bit awkward and cruel in its dismissive nature, stung. Attempting to make the words my own, I embroidered the text onto the pillow, re-contextualizing a quick and unthinking comment sent via the Internet, turning it into a carefully considered gesture. The repetitive act of stitching and the permanence of the thread in contrast to digital data, elevated the importance of the statement. The hurtful nature of the words is furthered emphasized by the soft pink of the thread and the gentle cursive handwriting, purposely drawing the viewer in unthreateningly before the context of the text is realized.
March 5 to August 16 (2010, Power Point) - sample slides and installation shots
In March 5 to August 16 documents (via a Power Point presentation) the majority of the text messages exchanged between a boyfriend at the time and myself during our brief relationship. The texts are displayed with my words to the right and his to the left. A time stamp appears on the bottom, adjusting the time and date of each message, which serves to confirm the authenticity of the documentation. Starting out at a quick pace, the repeated phrase "I love you" appears back and forth between us, with "love" highlighted in red font. Eventually, the pace slows with a series of "leave me alone" messages. "We need to take a break" marks the end of our failed relationship. Much is left unsaid, with the viewer left to try to piece together the "evidence" of the narrative. Without any other additional explanations, the viewer is left with only their own interpretation of the fragmented conversations.