An Every Day Kind of Tragedy
Death. Of course, I want to talk about death. When people pass on, there inevitably is someone who considers their passing tragic-- whether it is because the decedent was too young, because so many people depended on that person and are now defenseless, or if the tragedy is that they died alone and were utterly unmourned. We all die just as surely as we are born... but death doesn't lose its sting despite being so commonplace.
So You're Going to Show Me Death Art
Yep. Enter Sarah Sudhoff's project "At the Hour of Our Death." The photographer snapped pictures of textiles that had been stained by someone's passing. Her thoughts on this work are moving and too eloquent not to quote: "Death, like birth, is part of a process. However, the processes of death are often shielded from view. Today in Western society most families leave to a complete stranger the responsibility of preparing a loved one’s body for its final resting place [...] Now the stain of death is quickly removed and the scene is cleaned and normalized [...] The images are my attempt to slow the moments before and after death into a single frame, to allow what is generally invisible to become visible, and to engage with a process from which we have become disconnected."
I'm not ignorant of the fact that we live in a culture that is uncomfortable talking about dying. Artwork that is "too real" in that regard can be jarring. That said, I think the reasoning behind this project is incredibly justified and beautiful. The work is presented tastefully and without a touch of exploitation. She is doing something that is motivated on a deep personal level and we as an audience benefit from taking a moment to pause-- to slow down time and interact with societal "dark matter." I would argue that "media-fication" of death is needed-- at least a little.
I should add Sudhoff's project is gorgeous and fits that bill. This is far from something like Logan Paul's infamous stroll through Aokigahara-- which would be the photo negative of her artwork (his video was tasteless, had no higher purpose beyond his own personal gain, etc). She approaches the topic with respect, sensitivity, and vision.
At the Hour of Our Death from Walley Films on Vimeo.I should add Sudhoff's project is gorgeous and fits that bill. This is far from something like Logan Paul's infamous stroll through Aokigahara-- which would be the photo negative of her artwork (his video was tasteless, had no higher purpose beyond his own personal gain, etc). She approaches the topic with respect, sensitivity, and vision.
What Would a Manifesto Look Like for a Person Who Was Super Into This as a Kind of Artistic Ideal?
I'm going to rant like Marinetti because I can...
As a theatre artist I am stunned-- STUNNED! I am utterly aghast with how much of your "dark matter" there is to everything that might make us uncomfortable. The occultation and sanitization of death, decay, and (let's be honest) most things unpleasant is a crime! We rob ourselves of a truer understanding of our world, of nature, OF LIFE! Life is dirty. Life is that torn up bit of upholstery with the blood of a seizure victim permeating through the strands of thread. The fluids look like dendrites and LIKE DENDRITES they shoot information to our brains faster than the blink of an eye. That is power. It is amazing how much life there is in death!
Friends, do not mistake me. I do not mean to suggest that onstage death should be made to shock and frighten. Something exploitative and vulgar like a man being fed is own viscera until he dies is best left to lesser artists who are only interested in notoriety and a paycheck. Instead, we should look death in the face in a way that is candid-- and therefore beautiful. Not just death! Anything unpleasant! Any uncomfortable part of life should be viewed in stunning REALISTIC detail. We cannot continue to keep ourselves numb! It cannot be afforded!
Let us DARE to be ugly! Let us DARE to look at something that shakes us to the core! Art should be DARING! Art should make us feel ALIVE-- even as we stare Death in his eye sockets.