CULTURAL AUTOPSY
Tamy Ben-Tor's biting, full-frontal performances are embodiments of our collective fears and the creepiness of prejudice. For "Judensau," her latest live artwork, the Israel-born artist brings to life various characters in several languages. Speaking in tongues such as Yiddish, German or English the talented Ben-Tor utilizes voice modulation to great effect. The script, which we often don't understand anyway, is largely beside the point. We know all we need to know about her characters from the tone of delivery and bodily poses. Words, such as "assimilate" "devil" homosexual," do come through however. Language itself functions not so much a barrier as white noise. The denizens of Ben-Tor's world are clunky and unattractive, but their sense of self is always seamless. A kvetching woman scolds and a racist black man casually justifies the holocaust. Although they face us head-on, they're not addressing us directly. These folks are on automatic pilot, voicing for themselves hard facts about culture. They don't care who's listening...but we're always within earshot. The audience overhears. Takes in the hairstyles. Then we judge. Perhaps the most interesting facet of a Tamy Ben-Tor show is the experience of our own preconceptions of ethnic attitudes being brought to the table and painstakingly hacked to bits.
To be offended by a Ben-Tor performance, as I'm told some audience members have been, seems as silly as taking exception to the mention of World War II. The troubled past and pessimistic future of our planet is undeniable, and Ben-Tor's new piece couldn't be anything other than it is: a send-up of anti-Semitism which is as illogical and impenetrable as anti-Semitism itself. Her distillations of already reductive perceptions of "the other" -stereotypes of stereotypes if you will--are strangely compelling and easy to watch. Ben-Tor's personifications are kooky but not precisely funny. Comedy here is a laughable, impotent and reactionary weapon. (On the night I saw "Judensau," occasional audience chuckles conveyed only discomfort, and seemed to be functions of some reflexive distancing mechanization.) As the characters on stage appear to shrink even as they bark, we realize that convictions have become merely a part of one's genetics. Sadness has replaced anger for Ben-Tor's weary, post-political people.
The artist herself is possessed of considerable acting chops, and she mines the essence of theater by paring it down to its bones. Ben-Tor utilizes methodical, almost hypnotic onstage costume changes, a live (and less than virtuoso) violinist as well as a collaged soundtrack to draw us in. The central wooden platform serves as a literal soapbox for the characters' views. Nothing happens in the traditional sense. And it's precisely these condensed "theatrics" that differentiate Ben-Tor's playlets from say, those of young Whoopi Goldberg or the activist side of Tracey Ullman. Due to the overall slowness of the evening's rhythm, and the deliberate blur of dialogue, every movement became more important. An onstage shrug has seldom been as eloquent.
The videos for which Ben-Tor is known explore similar themes but have far less urgency than her live performances. In person, a few wigs magically convey race, prosthetic teeth affect voices as much as a lapel microphone and clothing becomes its own sort of bondage. An evening spent in the same room as the characters of Tamy Ben-Tor, dissecting their contented biases, is slowly and intellectually shocking. Catch her if you can.
Doug McClemont
Tamy Ben-Tor
Until 3 May
Zach Feuer Gallery
530 W. 24th Street
New York, NY 10011
T: +1 212 989 7700
www.zachfeuergallery.com
Doug McClemont is the former Editor-in-Chief of HONCHO, Torso, Mandate, Inches and Playguy. His writing regularly appears in publications such as Publishers' Weekly, Library Journal and Screw. He has written introductory essays for several monographs on contemporary art and is currently at work on a book of short stories entitled Little Morticians.
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