Fusion Arts at Space Womb Gallery: Carter; Hokanson; 1 KA

This is the fifth and final post of the performance event at Space Womb Gallery on 3/24/2012.



Michael Carter, who some people group with the Unbearables - I've never asked him if he does - continued the festivities. He was followed by Erik Hokanson.




Hokanson's piece portrayed the pickiest person in Long Island City, even though he lives in Brooklyn, poor guy. He was waiting for a delivery and when it came, he had a pizza to indulge in, and indulge he did. I know people who only like the cheese on their pizza, or prefer the crust. Hokanson's the sort who only likes the middle. He took a slice out, took one bite from the part nearest the center and promptly through the rest of the slice in the trash. He repeated this for the rest of the pie except for one slice rescued or wasted, depending on your point of view, by an audience member who couldn't sit and watch most of a pizza end up in the trash. Since I didn't get a bite, I can't say whether she or Hokanson was right.

He continued along the same path, taking one sip from a beer can before tossing it, lighting up a cigarette, taking one puff, then tossing it, and so on.

He was followed by a rapping poet whose name I don't know.













 

 The performance concluded with the artist 1 KA crawling into a folded sheet of metal, rolling around and making thunder sounds, illuminated only be a garish red light.

The performers posed for group pictures, the orange haired photo-lady insisting on getting in everyone's way - I edited her out of mine - before we all faded into the Long Island City dusk.

On the way back to the subway, I ran into some people who were there earlier but left long before I did. They were freaked out by Rebecca Cunningham's performance and didn't know what to make of it. I couldn't tell them what was on her mind, which they expected me to know, only that I found it very intenses, somewhat disturbing and I was sure that the woman who stopped Cunningham from going too far, was not part of the act.

An interesting afternoon, reminding me of the type of events I would've seen and participated in back in the bad old seventies and eighties of the last century. It seems so long ago.