Turn On @ Vito Acconci. 1974
TURN ON, 1974
Turn-On 21:56 1974
Acconci again confronts both the viewer's and his own expectations of his performance, saying, "I've waited for the perfect time, for the perfect piece, I'm tired of waiting... but no, you want me to have something readyfor you, something prepared." Acconci addresses the artist's perpetual wait for both inspiration and appreciation. He pulls apart the relationship of the artist to the audience, which for Acconci constitutes a mixture of independence and co-dependence, relying on the viewer to both validate and motivate his work. Near the end of the tape, Acconci turns against his viewer, his work and himself, saying, "It's me, I can't find any reason anymore to do art... I'm waiting for you to leave."
1974, 21:52 min, color, sound
Turn-On is one of Acconci's most charged and dramatic exercises, a tense and dynamic confrontation with the viewer. The back of Acconci's head is seen in tight close-up. He hums to himself, first lyrically, then aggressively, violently. Suddenly he wheels around to face the camera, his face filling the screen in extreme close-up, squinting at the viewer and speaking breathlessly: "Now! I have to face you now. Reveal myself ... But you can't take it yet. I have to wait." He turns and continues to hum, repeating this cycle again and again. Each time he faces the camera, the intensity increases. He addresses aspects of his art through his relation to the viewer, confronting the autobiographical within the context of his art-making: "I can talk about her, but maybe you've heard me talk too much about women." Eventually he rejects his own art-making strategies: "I've been too abstract, now I can be concrete, no more galleries, no more museums. It's me. I have no conviction anymore. I can't find any reason to do art." Ultimately, he insists, "I'm waiting for you ... not to be there."
Turn-On 21:56 1974
Acconci again confronts both the viewer's and his own expectations of his performance, saying, "I've waited for the perfect time, for the perfect piece, I'm tired of waiting... but no, you want me to have something readyfor you, something prepared." Acconci addresses the artist's perpetual wait for both inspiration and appreciation. He pulls apart the relationship of the artist to the audience, which for Acconci constitutes a mixture of independence and co-dependence, relying on the viewer to both validate and motivate his work. Near the end of the tape, Acconci turns against his viewer, his work and himself, saying, "It's me, I can't find any reason anymore to do art... I'm waiting for you to leave."
1974, 21:52 min, color, sound
Turn-On is one of Acconci's most charged and dramatic exercises, a tense and dynamic confrontation with the viewer. The back of Acconci's head is seen in tight close-up. He hums to himself, first lyrically, then aggressively, violently. Suddenly he wheels around to face the camera, his face filling the screen in extreme close-up, squinting at the viewer and speaking breathlessly: "Now! I have to face you now. Reveal myself ... But you can't take it yet. I have to wait." He turns and continues to hum, repeating this cycle again and again. Each time he faces the camera, the intensity increases. He addresses aspects of his art through his relation to the viewer, confronting the autobiographical within the context of his art-making: "I can talk about her, but maybe you've heard me talk too much about women." Eventually he rejects his own art-making strategies: "I've been too abstract, now I can be concrete, no more galleries, no more museums. It's me. I have no conviction anymore. I can't find any reason to do art." Ultimately, he insists, "I'm waiting for you ... not to be there."