"I think we all want to do stuff that we are too shy
to really do, but deep down we have it in us. These experiences
here in the studio, because they’re so unstructured,
they allow for these things to happen."
"Anybody could just walk
out, or break the rules. But that never really happens. I’m
always surprised that there’s no real anarchy—only
staged anarchy."
"It really becomes
about bending rules or defining rules on your terms. That
determines whether it’s art or not, whether it’s
a special situation or a mundane situation. It’s about
choice."
Can you talk about
getting people to stretch their limits inside of a performance?
HERRING:
In the end people only do what
they want to do. You just have to make them understand that
that’s what they want to do. I think we all want to
do stuff that we are too shy to really do, but deep down
we have it in us. These experiences here in the studio, because
they’re so unstructured, they allow for these things
to happen. I really like the sense of adventure in the air
when things are not scripted, when anything can happen. When
a performer comes in here and gets that feeling that anything
can happen, then it really becomes interesting and addictive,
actually.
ART:21:
What are the differences between
performances in small, intimate spaces and improvising in
more public venues?
HERRING:
A public performance like "TASK"
is almost a game—a reality game. I set up basic rules,
such as "don't leave the parameters of the stage."
I provide a bunch of props. In the case of "TASK," I
write a bunch of simple tasks in order to get the performance
going.
Each one goes in an envelope and is put in a task pool, and
the performance starts with each participant taking an envelope,
opening it, and trying to fulfill that task. Once they’re
done, they each write a new task, put it back in the task
pool, grab a new task, and go on with business. After the
first five or ten minutes, the performance is entirely self-perpetuating.
You don’t know what’s going to happen. The rules
that I start with are not binding. Anybody could just walk
out, or break the rules. But that never really happens. I’m
always surprised that there’s no real anarchy—only
staged anarchy.
ART:21:
Give some examples of the rules.
HERRING:
Well, actually, that’s
the only rule. I set out asking people for some props. I try
to make people comfortable before the performance by providing
some books or pieces of literature that are meaningful to
them. We try to cover this material in an envelope—to
protect it but also to neutralize it—and that becomes
a library of resources for these people to use if they want
to. There’s also two pieces of sound or music on a disk.
We then make copies of these disks so once again they’re
neutral. We have usually two or three sound systems on the
stage and the participants can use this to create a certain
soundscape if they want. I provide a bunch of props depending
on what institution I’m working with. I try to make
the props to some degree site specific. We did this in Palm
Beach we just loaded a lot of sand as a prop into plants and
onto the stage.
I usually divide these performances into three acts. Since
there are two intermissions there are three chunks of time
for people to perform. The performance lasts between five
and eight hours—usually more. Closer to eight hours,
so it’s a serious chunk of time to commit yourself to
and the performers usually need a break. I ask them to bring
three sets of clothes to once again personalize the experience
and also to communicate how they want to be presented to the
audience. People usually bring a lot of meaningful stuff onto
the stage. They think a lot about how they want to look. It’s
like they bring a part of their lives or their living rooms
onto the stage. But then it’s neutralized and anybody
has access to it.
ART:21:
Are you disappointed that anarchy
never takes over?
HERRING:
Not disappointed, curious.
ART:21:
Is anarchy possible in a work
of art?
HERRING:
Yeah, absolutely. Anarchy can
definitely happen in a piece of art. I haven’t seen
it happen in my work, but it’s possible. I’m setting
the rules for there to be anarchy, not in the larger sense
but within the confines of the game. You can break the confines
of the game. You can stop it, break it up entirely. It’s
just a creative possibility—to take something to the
extreme—which I think is creatively very interesting.
That’s what we try to do as artists. We try to push
something to the point of breakage but stop just before. Sometimes
we fail—we break the thing, we’ve gone too far.
It’s important to learn where that breakage point is
in order to set the parameters of what’s possible. Once
you know your parameters, you know what to play with.
ART:21:
Do you direct people at all?
HERRING:
I don’t say, “This
is what I want you to do. I would prefer you to go this way
or that way. “ No, I’m very curious and I find
people very interesting. I’m curious how people react
under certain circumstances. And people are always guarded
to some degree. They might let it out to a certain point,
but in the end there is the self-censorship that takes place.
And it’s probably a very healthy mechanism. I’m
just very curious why it doesn’t go a little further
sometimes.
ART:21:
Explain why "TASK" is art.
HERRING:
That’s a good question...I
think when you can communicate to anybody that it is possible
to make something meaningful out of something that’s
simply around you—whether it be tape that I knit or
a stop motion video—I think it becomes clear that if
you find meaning in that you might also find meaning in similar
situations in your life. You might just simply look at life
slightly differently. You might not look at a mundane situation
as that, you might see it as holding the potential to turn
it into something more beautiful or meaningful or something
with which you can communicate to another person.
I think that’s what these performances in a way do.
It’s usually hard to convince people to commit themselves
to this. But once the performances start, it’s hard
to keep the audience from wanting to participate and for the
performers to stop. Since I’ve never actually done this
myself, I have to imagine that it feels very liberating to
be able to just do whatever you want to do and interpret other
people’s ideas of what one should do in your own way.
The audience never quite knows what you’re up to, only
retrospectively, after you’ve completed a task and display
the written task in some fashion. But it’s always retrospective.
So there never is scrutiny.
I’ve had a lot of high school students participate
in these performances. Those are usually the performers who
I get most easily to commit—and who really enjoy it. I think
they also usually instinctively understand. It really becomes
about bending rules or defining rules on your terms. That
determines whether it’s art or not, whether it’s
a special situation or a mundane situation. It’s about
choice.
