ADRIAN PIPER: dressed very conservatively but stuffed a large white bath towel into the sides of mouth until cheeks bulged to about twice their normal size, letting the rest of it hang down front and riding the bus, subway, and Empire State Building elevator
New York, NY
NANCY DOUTHEY: dressed very conservatively but stuffed a large white bath towel into the sides of mouth until cheeks bulged to about twice their normal size, letting the rest of it hang down front and riding the metro rail, and walking downtown, Houston, TX
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The image of Adrian Piper and her towel have become part of my DNA, which I heard someone else say before about how things find a way of becoming part of your own being, anyway that is how I have felt about this image and that is probably why this performance felt so much apart of who I am and my great desire to experience whatever would be. I knew I would have to be so outside of my own self in order for me to accept myself as I would be with a towel stuffed in my mouth. Not only the physicality of the piece but all of the things that I had placed upon the meaning of the piece felt important to me. It feels more important to me as I understand my own voice and the many events and moments throughout my own life in which that voice has been cut off and silenced. But with that said I do not want to allow my own influences to be revealed any further, because I did not want them to block or filter my actual experience. I did not want to be so focused on the preconceived that when this actual moment came I would not be in that moment. A lesson in being present. Being aware without being concerned or obsessed with oneself in order to try to understand those outside of ourselves.
The experience. Complete avoidance. Many people saw me before they stepped onto the metro section where I was sitting (a prime seat beside me, if I do say so myself) I sat where I normally would have sat. So I felt I did not position myself in a particular confrontational way, and if my seating position may say that, than you would assume I am normally confrontational. There was one woman who was quite angry I believe, or that is how I perceived her to be. Her glares were undeniable and her sharp looking away head turns were just that, SHARP. Others were looking and then looking away quickly as I would look around. If ever you thought you were being discrete in your stares, think again. There wasn't one time that I could not tell that someone was looking at me and then intentionally diverting their eyes to look away. The ones that chose to ignore, the ones that noticed in the corner of their eye that something was off or saw sooner than I noticed them and chose to completely avoid and never look directly at me, I would say they played it smart. They knew exactly what was going on but never had the moment of "oh ^&*%, did she catch me looking." I was not confrontation in my looking at others, trying to demand their attention. In fact I felt as though I would act as though perhaps I needed this towel, perhaps it was for my braces, nothing to be ashamed of, it was part of me and that was something I had accepted a very long time ago.
There was one. One African-American man that greeted me with his eyes. It is a moment that may become even more apart of me than Adrian Piper's image. He boarded the train and looked straight into my eyes. It felt like forever, but it was for only a few seconds. He acknowledged me. ME. Me for me. And I felt it. It was non judgmental and it was not in sympathy. It was an understanding that we would be in this same space together. It was a realization that I was here and he was there. It was respect in a way that one is accepting you. It was as though he was the only person on the planet that noticed me, that loved me. He was the only one that wasn't telling me to hide with his body, his eyes, his presence. He rested right in front of me. I felt apart for the first time that day.
The woman that sat next to me. Well it was the only seat left and she had arrived with three teenage boys. I would say she sat there as an example to them in a way. That is what I was feeling at the time. She was nice. She burst out at one point telling the boys about a building we were passing by, she was the only one that said a word. No chatter after entering this space with this towel girl. The mood changed from the outside relaxed talk upon entrance into a cold silence. She was the only one. ONE. That spoke out about anything. A few mumbles here and there, but mainly silence.
I will never forget this day. Ever.
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