A picture of ‘The litany of curfew”, a work of performative collective B. L. U. S. H. developed-in-residence at the Eye of fish
January 19, 2020 4: 00
“The litany of curfew,” B. L. U. S. H.: launch alerts to the moon
Trained visual artists Annie Baillargeon and Isabelle Lapierre and the designer of sound and musician Marie-Hélène Blay, B. L. U. S. H. created performance interdisciplinary where eco-feminism draws on the primal forces, and in the iconography of witches. We went to meet them during the creation of their new performance, nicely titled “The litany of curfew”.
B. L. U. S. H. is born in 2015, in the middle of a trip to eastern Europe, from the ashes of the Farm-obsessed, another collective that explored and exploded the stereotypes. They have a clean slate, have swapped the baby dolls to jackets to caps and floor cloths, the fabrics for the recovered materials and debris from construction site. “We wanted to get rid of the Farm, to find the primitive, be virgins, be dégenrer”, note Isabelle Lapierre. Four years later, they are in their eighth performance. A very good pace, especially considering that each of them continues to pursue his own practice.
The trio has developed its most recent ritual for the past few weeks, in residence in the great gallery of the fish-Eye, which is unoccupied in the expectation of the work that must be done in the coopérative Méduse. In the huge room, slender, suitcases, sound equipment and accessories, non-messy (B. L. U. S. H. has a certain predilection for the powders and coloured liquids, but keeps them for the performances themselves) are arranged at the ground.
A mass of recovered material is compressed in a large clear bag in the middle of the room. The big fish is covered with a net — only accessory acquired specifically for this creation, apart from sticks of beeper used, from South Korea and bought online. “This is not a fishing net, it is made to be installed on the back of a pick up, but we like to play with the ambiguity of the items,” says Annie Baillargeon.
This diversion is also present in the sample sound prepared by Marie-Hélène Blay. What looks like whale sounds is produced by his dog or by a tuba. A breath and the sound of running water in a sink evoke the depths of the underwater of any ocean in the distance. Glouglous and long complaints wrenching portend a amalgam in turn murky, and floating. The 80 samples will allow the artist making collages and editing live sound.
In his arsenal, a speech by Jacques Cousteau on the urgent need to protect ocean life and dating back to the 70 points out how the alarm cries to save the planet have been little heard.
This sense of urgency is one of the founding elements of The litany of curfew. The women who slide through use of a megaphone and sticks of signals mentioned above. There will also be fire — metaphorical — and of the water. “One time, one turns a water brush, using funnels and the funds that remain in the boiler,” gliding Annie. It ingèreront capsules and barbouilleront the mouth of the liquid orange, pretending to devour their big fish of plastic. “It’s just like the being vampirised, the drug. There is a side addict. It becomes a riot that makes us sick, expose themselves-they in finishing the sentences of each other. There are an incarnation of all the roles of the human in our performance, it is not positioning itself as virtuous.”
The performance, created in Quebec, where Isabelle Lapierre will come soon to join her sisters, who live there already, is part of the collective exhibition Spunkt Art Now, curated by Sebastien Pesot, which was attended by several artists influenced by the movement punk (which Paryse Martin, also of Quebec). The launch took place Thursday at the cultural center of the University of Sherbrooke, where the exhibition continues until 16 February. The litany of the curfew will then be presented in march at the art center, Howl! Happening in New York and the House of culture Janine-Sutto in Montreal on April 30.