Day 3: Zoe Koke & Molly O: Closer, Not Close Enough

    The third day of this exhibit was by far the most difficult and from the bottom of my heart I thank Helga for navigating such treacherous waters.  Our second performance was by Zoe Koke in Montréal and Molly O. in Brooklyn, NY.  Zoe and Molly read some of their favourite literature to each other in the bed-sheet forts of their youth lit by candles and flashlights over Skype.  The performance was an exploration of closeness through video chat.  The actual event was a fascinating exploration of the efficacy of video chat and the maintenance of friendship.  
     The scene in Gallery One One One was quite beautiful as we were setting up, there were screens, and an image of a cozy bedroom.  The battle started as soon as we tried to get everyone online together, it seems that this exceeded the level of complication we were expecting.  In the end we decided just to simplify our set-up so that we could get on with the performance.  Closer, Not Close Enough was expected to be one of the highlights of the exhibit, and we were very happy when the lights went off and the story telling began.  The closeness that one felt towards Molly and Zoe up on our screen was strange, but still very real.  For myself, the knowledge that these two people were in their own spaces far from us reading and communicating in real time was quite magical.  The actual spaces they occupied added a very sentimental feeling to the performance, even as we sat there in the slightly chilly gallery on slightly uncomfortable chairs.  Molly and Zoe communicated with text messages to each other, they wrote notes in notebooks and help them up the camera.  The ability to see their printing made the silent comments all the more meaningful and I think this is something to consider, type written text removes the real moment to moment emotional state of the author that an emoticon cannot replicate in any serious way.  So in the most traditional sense of the word, they communicated via text message.  
    The performance was fantastic, let's get that out there right now.  About fifteen minutes in the gods of the internet started to frown on us, connections began to collapse.  Initially there were minor glitches, Zoe's video froze, then Molly was disconnected, then both of them.  I can't tell you how or why this happened, I know very little about the workings of the internet, but there was a bit of scramble to get things back online.  Those in the audience who stayed on through this earned my total respect.  Andy Warhol once made a comment about how you should be sure to get all the scratches and dirt on a film that you can, so that you know that you're watching a film.  Well we knew we were dealing with the internet.  These glitches, seizures if you will, completely fascinated me in terms of our exploration of digital intimacy.  In addition I feel that they made the performance feel like a true contemporary art film, slightly excruciating.  But isn't this often the experience of video communication with a friend who lives so far away?  The awkwardness of lag, waiting for them to laugh at a joke as you wonder if you've completely offended them, or dealing with choppy video and sound distortion is now a part of our interaction with people.  These technological hiccups have been a part of our life since telecommunication came into existence.  So like the awkward silence, the true character of person comes through in how they handle these moments.   
      Online video chat is a beautiful thing, there really is nothing like seeing your friend laugh to make you feel better, but there is still something to be said for the equally intimate nature of letter writing, both have their own problems.  There is nothing that can feel quite as good as sitting across the table from them, but in lieu of that it is your choice and most of us would rather have them in front of us rather than hidden in their hidden in their handwriting.