Matt Bodett’s “Twelve: a series of performative koans”

I've started writing for the archival arts publication, Sixty Inches From Center, which supports and promotes art and writing that thrives primarily outside of mainstream historical narratives. I'll be sharing excerpts from those articles here.

Ghuahh! The performance begins with an unexpectedly-sharp gasp, followed by stuttering vocals not dissimilar to speech blips that happen when you fast-forward an old VHS, or what one can imagine a person drowning sounds like. This tense scene―where the artist exerts himself, yet remaining indiscernible―is echoed several times over during Seen, the third installment of Matt Bodett’s Twelve: a series of performative koans. While individual, each performance in the series is “commanding a new dialogue and offering a new way to experience notions of identity, suffering, healing, language, and stigma.” Diagnosed with schizophrenia 13 years ago, Bodett has been expressing mental illness, and his personal experiences with it, through his artwork ever since.

Presented at the Poetry Foundation on Tuesday, September 26, Seen gives the audience a glimpse into two symptoms of schizophrenia and their effects―auditory hallucinations and aphasia (the inability to speak or disorganized speech). Sounds and words overlap and repeat, a blur of disjointed meaning. These layers of information come in the form of the artist speaking live from a microphone, audio recordings playing through speakers, and a projected video piece. By combining these elements, Bodett creates a powerful performance that simultaneously overwhelms and builds empathy in the audience.

Read the rest of this piece at Sixty Inches From Center.