'Ordinary human beings do not like mystery since you cannot put a bridle on it, and therefore, in general they exclude it, they repress it, they eliminate it - and it's settled. But if on the contrary one remains open and susceptible to all the phenomena of overflowing, beginning with natural phenomena, on discovers the immense landscape of the trans-, of the passage' (Cixous 1997: 51-2).
Within the humanities and social sciences in British universities, a particular conception of material histories and practices, broadly post-Marxist, has dominated discursive thinking, academic publishing and teaching for the last forty years or so. Unquestionably the invaluable array of conceptual tools and languages these critical perspectives have afforded has been enormously generative in diverse disciplinary contexts, providing the ground for radical reconceptions of history and its occluded others, and of power, knowledge, political agency, identity, representation, and so on. It has seeded and substantively informed the development of cultural studies, feminisms, post-colonialisms, and the proliferative deployment of critical theory in areas from anthropology to film studies, from geography to art history, theatre and performance studies. I confess to being one of the products and perpetrators of such an intellectual training, and I remain profoundly thankful for many of its enabling critical optics, concepts, strategies, and above all for its dissident spirit of inquiry: its reflexive invitation to look again at the naturalized, the received, the doxa, with a view to exposing what or who is overlooked or concealed or silenced. In the words of the novelist David Malouf:
Within the humanities and social sciences in British universities, a particular conception of material histories and practices, broadly post-Marxist, has dominated discursive thinking, academic publishing and teaching for the last forty years or so. Unquestionably the invaluable array of conceptual tools and languages these critical perspectives have afforded has been enormously generative in diverse disciplinary contexts, providing the ground for radical reconceptions of history and its occluded others, and of power, knowledge, political agency, identity, representation, and so on. It has seeded and substantively informed the development of cultural studies, feminisms, post-colonialisms, and the proliferative deployment of critical theory in areas from anthropology to film studies, from geography to art history, theatre and performance studies. I confess to being one of the products and perpetrators of such an intellectual training, and I remain profoundly thankful for many of its enabling critical optics, concepts, strategies, and above all for its dissident spirit of inquiry: its reflexive invitation to look again at the naturalized, the received, the doxa, with a view to exposing what or who is overlooked or concealed or silenced. In the words of the novelist David Malouf:
‘the very habit
and faculty that makes apprehensible to us what is known and expected dulls our
sensitivity to other forms, even with the most obvious. We must rub our eyes
and look again, clear our minds of what we are looking for to see what is
there’ (Malouf 1994: 130).
When I was starting out as a young part-time academic
in the 1980s, any mention in such contexts of ‘spirituality’ or the ‘numinous’ was
almost invariably met with skepticism and suspicion, and a swift dismissal into
the benighted conceptual bin marked ‘new age’. Thinking and practices claiming
a relation to the spiritual or to perceptions of the ineffable, the unnameable,
the metaphysical, the mystical were more often than not collapsed into the
religious or the delusional, and discredited accordingly. Any ‘serious’
academic study of such practices and perceptions seemed unthinkable. More
recently, however, despite the lingering resilience of this dis-enchanted partie prise towards the numinous, many
such blindspot zones of ‘unthinkability’ have been revisited and reconceived from
a diversity of critical domains, most notably deconstruction, new materialisms,
feminisms, radical ecologies, and their intersections with post-quantum science
and neurology. A number of widely influential philosophers and thinkers have
articulated the conceptual means through which to open up to fresh critical
attention areas of experience and consciousness with direct implications and
possibilities for a nuanced exploration of the numinous: for example, Derrida’s
negative epistemologies (the apophatic),
Donna Haraway’s cyborgian ‘affinities’, Karen Barad’s posthuman ‘agential
realism’, Jane Bennett’s ‘vibrant materialism’, Timothy Morton’s accounts of ‘humankind’
and of an ecology ‘without nature’, and, in the area of performance studies,
analyses of performance epistemologies and ontologies by theorists including
David George:
‘As an epistemology, performance offers: a
rediscovery of the now, relocation in the here; return to the primacy of
experience, of the event; rediscovery that facts are relations, that all
knowledge exists on the threshold and in the interaction between subject and
object (which are themselves only hypostatisations); a rediscover of ambiguity,
of contradiction, of difference; a reassertion that things – and people – are
what they do …’ (George 1999: 34).
Silvia Battista’s timely and invaluable book,
which draws productively on a number of these scholars, forms part of a recent
and growing reappraisal in contemporary academia’s critical relations with the
numinous in art and performance. Battista shapes her book around detailed
discussions of work by five international artists – Marina Abramovic, James
Turrell, Ansuman Biswas, Marcus Coates, Wolfgang Laib – in order to clarify the
perceptual propositions and effects/affects each of these practices trigger,
the associational hermeneutic fields active in the particular works, and the
shifts in consciousness and epistemologies they produce that might be deemed to
be of a numinous order. The choice of artists and works necessarily represents
a sample, outlining an initial mapping of certain typologies of contemporary
performances of the numinous, rather than endeavouring to offer any exhaustive
listing of such practices (1).
It is important to note that, in this
context, Battista conceives of spirituality and numinous experience as outside
the parameters of organized religion. The works of the contemporary artists she
includes here offer instances of a (post-)secular sacred activated by embodied
events of perception, each of them generating manifestations beyond the
cognitive emprise of the ego. Battista suggests that these extra-ordinary and
ex-centric events, in some ways akin to Walter Benjamin’s notion of ‘profane
illumination’, can be provoked by particular disciplines and performative structural
configurations (Foucault’s ‘technologies of the self’) to produce a palpable flaring
into presentness and consciousness of dynamic processes, entanglements,
interconnections, pulsing materialities and plural agencies. So, for example,
Battista analyses the labour intensive and painstaking gathering, placement and
framing of pollen by means of which the German artist Wolfgang Laib creates the
conditions for the pollen itself to take (a) place, to happen in its specificity as auratic event entangled in myriad
other processes of emergence, collection and dispersal; and in this way, the
pollen itself mysteriously ‘comes to matter’. In themselves, these events of
inter-/intra-action implicitly challenge mechanistic models of science - and
conventional conceptions of knowledge - characterized by binary cleftings, immutable
boundaries, the narrowly causal and instrumental, the ‘ego-logical’. Moreover,
as Battista goes on to propose, apprehension of this motile, relational mesh of
intersecting forces furnishes the potential for a posthuman, ecological
critique of received ideas about hierarchies of agency, authorship, and species.
The performative tools employed by the five
artists under consideration here, mobilised to decentre and displace habitual
modes of perception, invite other less familiar qualities of receptive
attention that can give rise to unsettling, mysterious ‘landscapes of the passage’
as described by Hélène Cixous at the very
beginning of this text. As Cixous goes on to insist, an openness and
susceptibility to ‘the phenomena of overflowing, beginning with natural
phenomena’ (i.e. an openness to the numinous):
‘does not mean
that everything will be adrift, our thinking, our choices, etc. But it means
that the factor of instability, the factor of uncertainty, or what Derrida
calls the undecidable, is
indissociable from human life. This ought to oblige us to have an attitude that
is at once rigorous and tolerant and doubly so on each side: all the more
rigorous than open, all the more demanding since it must lead to openness,
leave passage: all the more mobile and rapid as the ground will always give
way, always’ (Cixous 1997: 52).
Instability, rigour, tolerance, openness,
mobility, speed (and slowness, its shadow, out of and into which it unfolds), and
dissolution into renewed uncertainty: the cyclical trajectory of an engagement
with the unmasterable spaces of ‘the passage’ as traced by Cixous – and
Battista in her book - proposes an ongoing ethical disposition towards the in-excess,
the not-known, the not-yet-known, the unthinkable, the radically other, the
fleetingly glimpsed, the profoundly paradoxical. And at the heart of what
follows in this book is an invitation to an active porosity and receptivity to
non-mastery in the face of the encounter event with the other-than-oneself, which
one might usefully conceive of in terms of an opening to the ‘eco-logical’. For
we are always already implicated – literally, ‘en-folded’ – in other
subjectivities, agencies, forces, phenomena, realities.
In order to give a future to the virtual
space of the future (l’avenir) and to
the others that are us, we need practices and philosophies of inter-located passage rather than of fixed ground or
territory, in the present unfolding of a democracy that is, as Jacques Derrida,
Chantal Mouffe and others have suggested, always provisional, insufficient, in
process, always ‘to come’ (l’à-venir).
It is apparent that identity and location, for example, are produced as much
through narration as through what already exists: they are more a matter of
doing than knowing. As Battista demonstrates, certain kinds of art and
performance provide opportunities to unsettle and refashion those heterogeneous
personal mappings that we are continuously making up and over, and out of which
we constitute our-‘selves’ and/in the world. The art practices that form the
focus of her book elaborate structures for perceptual and existential realignments,
amplificatory re-attunements that can enable a kind of fluid, performative
‘auto-topography’; this in turn encourages and activates shifting senses of
self, space, place and reality - rather than the ‘self’ or the ‘world’
occurring preformed, as if they were pre-existent entities rubbing up against
each other. When space, time, self are conceived as ‘a multiple foldable
diversity’ (Serres and Latour 1995: 59), a field of flows and intensities - spacing, timing, selfing – then
perhaps a dynamically porous self-in-process and in-relation can fray just a
little the dualist territorial imaginaries of ‘inside’ and ‘outside’, of
self-identity in binary opposition to radical alterity. If one can accept the
paradox that the continuity of identity is secured through movement and the
capacity to change rather than the ability to cling on to what is already
established, as Zygmunt Bauman has suggested (1999: xiv), then one’s
responsibility is to abandon the logics of mastery, to ‘look again’ and listen
otherwise, and let untimely, numinous elements of all sorts of ‘outsides’
in-here. In this way identity can become ‘a point of departure for a voyage
without guarantees, and not a port of arrival’ (Chambers 2001: 25); and ‘home’ (oikos, the eco-, and the self itself) can
be considered no longer as a ‘fixed structure’, but as ‘a contingent passage, a
way that literally carries [one] elsewhere’ (ibid: 26).
Note
(1) Other artists whose work would seem to be of potential relevance in this context might include, for example, Joseph Beuys, Tehching Hsieh, Yoko Ono, Hermann Nitsch, Bill Viola, Francis Alys, Susan Hiller, Olafur Eliasson, John Newling and Lindsay Sears, as well as the recent performance work of British artists Abigail Conway (An Evening with Primrose, 2017) and Florence Peake.
References
(1) Other artists whose work would seem to be of potential relevance in this context might include, for example, Joseph Beuys, Tehching Hsieh, Yoko Ono, Hermann Nitsch, Bill Viola, Francis Alys, Susan Hiller, Olafur Eliasson, John Newling and Lindsay Sears, as well as the recent performance work of British artists Abigail Conway (An Evening with Primrose, 2017) and Florence Peake.
References
Bauman, Zygmunt. Culture as Praxis, London: Sage, 1999
Chambers, Iain. ‘A Question of History’, in
Culture after Humanism: History, Culture, Subjectivity, London: Routledge, 2001, pp. 7-46
Cixous, Hélène with Mireille Calle-Gruber. Rootprints: Memory and Life Writing (trans.
Eric Prenowitz), London: Routledge, 1997
George, David ER. Buddhism as/in Performance, New Delhi: DK Printworld, 1999
Malouf, David. Remembering Babylon. London: Vintage, 1994
Serres, Michel and Latour, Bruno. Conversations on Science, Culture and Time (trans.
Roxanne Lapidus), Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1995
Image: Wolfgang Laib, Pollen mountain (2015) - pollen from hazelnut
First published as 'Look again: landscapes of the passage', the foreword to Silvia Battista's Posthuman Spiritualities in Contemporary Performance: Politics, Ecologies and Perceptions, Palgrave Macmillan, 2018