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Me, myself and the dog

Q.U.I.C.H.E.

Sunday morning, 9.27 am. The games are drawing to a close, the social media ether is full and I am empty. One of the favourite topics of conversation: my dog. Now christened ‘the art dog’. A line from Cassidy Toner's text for the ‘Yolo & Bolo’ exhibition at Bolo Publishing and a mantra from Ivo Dimchev's song ‘Sucker’, which he performed at the ‘Selfie Concert’ at Kunstmuseum, have stuck in my head from the last few days: Firstly, ‘Then it hit me. Pretty much no one reads the press text during the opening. I'm usually standing around, throwing back as many free drinks and snacks as humanly possible. You should be doing the same.’ and secondly ’I don't wanna be around hot guys anymore, no no no no. It breaks my heart, breaks my soul, makes me wanna cry, go on the floor and start begging for a cock. But I don't wanna die like this sucking a cock, cock, cock.’

Me in bed, next to me a graveyard of unread press releases that I might still read. In my head, the subtle hangover of the last three days - self-explanatory due to ‘as many free drinks as humanly possible’. Admittedly less due to the art days than to my affinity for falling in love again about 3 times a day: I don't wanna be around hot girls anymore, no no no no. I actually wanted to write a recap à la ‘How to Kunsttage with a dog’. However, the topic was quickly exhausted: art institutions no, off-spaces and galleries yes. With the hint that I should be careful not to let the dog lick Cecily Brown's oil painting ‘Focus Object’. Thankful for the hint, otherwise I would have let her. The dog is a good small talk buffer anyway - after ticking off all the things we've seen today, we can chat about how old and cute she is. Some have coke, I have dog. Good for me - I don't think she realises her responsibility as my guide in social situations. Very demure.

After seeing Davide-Christelle Sanvee's performance ‘salle noir’ – without the dog – which left me with goosebumps and speechless, I went to see ‘The Selfie Concert’ by Ivo Dimchev. I'll keep my input about Sanvee's performance, which went through my bones, to myself. Because I happen to know that there might also be a text about it. Fortunately, I also have many thoughts on ‘The Selfie Concert’. The first would be: I'll tell it like it is – whenever I set out to write about something other than performance art, I'll end up writing about it after all. The performative medium is my focus, my essence – alongside the hot girls, the brat girls and the mindful girls.

Right now I'm watching a reel sent to me by a dear friend: ‘Me and my bestie bonding over our experiences in art. Lots of drama, very insecure, it killed me.’ That's what I call zeitgeist.

Back to Ivo Dimchev: the concept of the performance is simple. He sings and performs his songs. But only if at least 3, 5 or 10 audience members take selfie videos with him in the picture. As soon as the number falls below the limit he has set, he stops. Of course, nobody should want that, because: The songs are great, they're fun. Recording alone is not enough, we should connect with the music, feel it and move while shooting the video. Great, I thought to myself, I really don't need participation right now. 10 minutes later, I was right in the middle of it. The audience were circling around Ivo Dimchev like satellites – or as someone told me, like worms – including me. He knows how to stage himself and put himself in the spotlight. Definitely main character vibes. As a visitor, I have the following options: Either I just watch and observe both the artist and the participants from the outside or I get involved and become part of a temporary community of people filming, circling and turning. I wrestled with myself - really just watching? At the same time, the almost unbearable thrill of becoming part of the performance and shooting a short selfie video with Ivo Dimchev. Cue social media ether that wants to be filled.

It's amazing how the mobile phone absorbed me and I dare say – based purely on my own observations – that the others felt the same way. As soon as I filmed myself in selfie mode and tried to get Ivo Dimchev in the picture, I completely ignored the fact that I myself was part of the staging at that moment. It reminds me of that moment in Zoom meetings when you realise that you're constantly staring at yourself in your little tile. The narcissist of the 21st century. Now I'm thinking that hopefully it's not just me. At that moment, the mobile phone became as much of a buffer as my dog usually is. There are two types of displacement activities: I reach for my mobile phone and scroll like I'm insanely important or I pet and talk to my dog. Where my Zen has gone and why I need it is another matter.

In any case, I unexpectedly liked this invitation to participate and the temporary sense of community. In my research, I usually think about the temporal continuum of the relationship between the performers and the spectators during a performance and how this is created. My specific research is mainly about analysing queer coded actions within a heteronormative audience structure. I could also go into this in more detail in the context of ‘The Selfie Concert’ – perhaps I will at some point, but for reasons – Sunday morning, now 10.18 a.m. – not now. The observation of what the mobile phone does as a medium and how the invitation to participation initiated by Ivo Dimchev worked – makes me wanna do Kunsttage all over again.