Es un encuentro casual. Allí escribo sobre "el otro".: 2da Instancia - Performance: “los pulmones del infinito”- Festival Internacional Connection PerfoLink

Festival Internacional Connection PerfoLink- 30.11.13

Jesusa Delbardo- Uruguay- Performance:“los pulmones del infinito”

"No quiero entenderte ni entenderme, y menos me interesa conocerme, sino mas bien dejarme abandonada para poder desinflar el traje y encontrarme con los pulmones del infinito."

link a video publicitando Los pulmones del infinito: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1rPnshMo3A.

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Registro Fotográfico:

Registro Subjetivo escrito por By Basil Alzeri ( Performance Artist from Palestina)
Poesía Intuitiva, los Pulmnes del Infinito I:

On the final evening of PEFOLINK, four durational performances were scheduled (and my work). It seems like things have been shuffled around in terms of time and space, I had to reschedule my performances two hours and a half earlier because of the time difference of where my mom lives, other artists had to start later because of some mysterious giant inflatable structure (s) that took most of the green lawn space in Universidad Finis Terrae court. Jesusa’s work was supposed to occupy an already occupied space until 8 PM or so. I have noticed Jesusa setting up, creating a path with tiny wooden sticks towards a beautifully coupled tree (s) resembling a giant bonsai on the left side of the pulsing fountain. Most of the works were happening at the same time, while I went around and watched Alejandra’s, Daniela’s & Felipe’s, and Leo’s I retired with a tired body and a 6 pack on the bench leading to Jesusa’s. Spectator’s were taking turns as it seemed to be “en tête-à-tête” type of performance. As I was waiting to go next, someone warned me that it would take a lot of time, as each person has been spending something like 15 minutes with the artist. I left few times, and kept coming back, the last time I came back I was determined to meet and experience the work by the end of the shrine–esque installed piece. I walked down the designated path made of a flimsy wooden sticks, attached to the sticks were white strips of thin card board with messages on them inserted on each stick akin to a sail shape and its movement within its environment. It was dark already, there was a light directly spotted on the end of path, I walked towards Jesusa’s while I was finishing my cigarette and when I was about to put it out, she eagerly asked me not to, and wanted to have the last puff! I realized then that she has been sitting between the trees and holding on to them for the last two hours and a half, arms extended and there I was wanting to experience the piece, so I asked if I can still participate and she enthusiastically invited me to. I was instructed to fix the piles of squared cut cardboard pieces and place the wooden chair back on top of them. “Take a SEAT”, “Take a piece of blank cardboard”, “write this poem that I will recite about you and dictate it to you”. I wrote; as Jesusa kept her arms extended and seems to look through me so close to find her most fit words about me “poetically”. I wrote on both side of the first cardboard square and when I ran out of space she asked me to continue writing on a new piece of white cardboard, so I did. Once she finished, she asked me if I can fold the unique and personalized “intuitive poem” in a boat like origami, but I did not remember how to do that, since I have not done so since I was six or seven years old. She patiently instructed me, we did the first one together and I tried to fold the second one by myself, I almost did! Subsequently, instructed to take a clear plastic bag, open a leather case, cut a green nylon string and seal the bag and hang it on one of the bonsai’s branches. I thanked her, gave her a kiss and asked her if she wants to any help wrapping up and dismantle her installation, but she thanked me back and ran away to check some closing details with Alexander, the orgnizer and curator of PERFOLINK. I walked away contemplating about the words and phrases she directed at me, from me, to me about me intuitively, and thought to myself: if her performance sessions were about the people she was meeting with individually, or is it about her idea of who they are? The image she had constructed of their being, yet deconstructing her participants while keeping a brave front of herself.

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Registro escrito por Jesusa Delbardo:

Armo un camino en el piso con papeles que indican e incitan a avanzar a las personas.

Este camino se resuelve visualmente en una persona, sentada sobre sus rodillas en el pasto, frente a una silla vacía que apoya cada una de sus 4 patas sobre unas torres de 12 cm de papel recortado en cuadrados de 10x10, dejándola visiblemente un poco torcida.

Al lado de los objeto persona y silla, está una fuente de agua redonda, muy bellamente iluminada, pues si, ya se hizo tarde, está oscurecido, y Jesusa, espera, sentada sobre sus rodillas en el pasto, con sus dos manos, cada una agarrada a unos arbolitos a su lado derecho e izquierdo respectivamente.

Se acerca la primer persona. Avanza por el camino, se sienta en la enclenque silla, y me mira.

Le pido que tome una de las lapiceras que cuelgan con piolas de la silla, le pido que tome un papel de las patas de la silla, y mirando fijamente “al otro” empiezo a dictar, empiezo a hablar, le pido que escriba, que copie mi sonido en palabras, las palabras se suman en el papel a partir de ese otro, y a partir de ese encuentro. Le digo, (pues me pareció que no se había dado cuenta) estoy hablando de ti, se sorprende, se emociona, seguimos y terminamos.

Siempre con mis manos agarrada de los 2 árboles que están a mi lado, le pido, por favor, que haga un barquito con el papel, no saben, saben, lo hace, no lo saben hacer, les explico, sin poder tocar, solo dando indicaciones, agarrada de los arboles, le pido que tome una bolsa bella transparente, de una valijita naranja que hay cerca, y que ponga las palabras, ahora barquitos dentro de la bolsa, que la amarre y que luego la cuelgue en uno de los árboles que sostengo, o que me sostienen, o que ninguna de las dos cosas.

Asi fueron pasando las personas, se fueron sentado en la silla enclenque que oníricamente se apoya en torre de papeles en blanco, dispuestos para escribir justamente acerca de quien se les sienta encima, sobre quien descansa su humanidad sobre ellos. Se emocionaron, seasombraron,se resistieron, descubrí universos y también me vi, se me enfriaron los brazos y la ternura en los ojos de los hombres me sorprendió una y otra vez, dejando de lado mi ancestral enojo por esta especie que he concebido tan lejana a la mujer.

Las bolsas en los arbolitos crecen, y traslucen sus frutos - los barquitos se ven dentr-, la luz brilla y las bolsas la refractan bellamente, la fuente, el agua hace ruido, y quiere o no quiere mojar los arboles?, que les pertenece a los arboles?, o qué es para los barquitos? la fuente, al agua, el océano, el infinito?, son barquitos? Que pasó? Que somos? que hicimos? que está pasando?

Se termina la performance, estoy con el último pasajero de este tren invisible que sólo posee la capacidad de materializar a la vista uno solo de sus andenes, sin saber quien maneja.

Los arbolitos están llenos de bolsas bellas con barquitos “flotando” dentro. Nos paramos, suelto los árboles luego de casi dos horas tengo un poco acalambrados los arboles, digo, las manos, pero que importa, las sumerjo en el agua, saco una tetera de vidrio que tenía sumergida en la fuente todo el rato,

Y riego a mis pulmones, digo hermanos, digo, manos, digo riego con la tetera a los arboles, y mi amigo, el último, es el único que también lo ve.

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Este es el trabajo posterior, luego de madurado los frutos. Se abren los barquitos, para escanearlos y luego transcribirlos: