Proximity and distance: the taste and smell of oranges (and then sent away)
Despite receiving images of the site in advance, I failed to understand the scale of the location for the festival until I arrived in Helsinki. The Cable Factory was on the waterfront, at the edge of the city, in a former industrial complex that now houses various arts organizations, arts-related businesses, galleries, theaters and a restaurant. When I walked into the space we were to use for the festival, I realized that what looked like a normal size door in the photos was in reality the height of three doors. And what I had understood to be a large space with a high ceiling, was in fact an enormous space that was three stories high.
I felt incredibly dwarfed by the space, a very small human dominated by an industrial space seemingly built by giants. This sense of the space drove the concept of the performance.
I prepared the space by pulling back all the black curtains that were meant to hide the cement walls, the remains of machinery still in the space, pipes and vents, spiral stairs and catwalks. I had a chair near the entrance to the space, and beneath it a glass of water and many blue boxes of salt.
I met the audience at the door, gathering them around me closely as I handed out oranges from a large bowl. I encouraged them to talk to people they did not know, and we discussed the smell and taste of the oranges. We talked about how the smell of the oranges pervaded the corner of the room that we occupied, even given the size of the space.
I then went to the chair to get a box of salt, and asked the audience to step back a bit so that I could pour a line of salt on the floor between myself and them. This required a little negotiation, but I appealed to their good nature, asking them to do it as a favor for me. I asked someone in the audience to hold the bowl of extra oranges, to continue passing them out as well as gathering the peels.
I returned to the chair, and sat, contemplating the audience while drinking a sip of water.
I repeated this action of pouring a line of salt seven more times, slowly moving the audience further and further away from me. Each time I had to cajole some members of audience into moving, and staying on their side of the line. I reminded them that I had given them the gift of the oranges to eat. Eventually they were confined in a very small space in the far opposite corner of the room.
I sat and looked at them each time, drinking my glass of water. At the end, when they had no further place to go, I finished my glass of water as we looked at each other across the expanse, and with no further sign or instruction, I left the room.
