Marina Abramović’s arrival at the Kochi-Muziris Biennale made a turning point in the festival’s history rather than a simple visit. The performance art pioneer brought an air of both intensity and invitation, whose radical quests of the body, endurance, vulnerability, and reality have transformed art for over fifty years. Abramović offered a unique fusion of performance and lecture in Kochi, a city where complex histories collide with a restless modern spirit. With expected clarity and provocation, she questioned the gap between artist and audience.
More than just a headline for the Biennale, her presence signalled a meeting between one of the most powerful artistic voices in the world and a culture that has always valued risk-taking and creativity. Abramović gave Kochi not only a performance but also a time of group reflection through her measured storytelling, body language, and the stillness she has made legendary. It was an invitation to listen more intently, see more fully, and reevaluate the limits of art and life.
After starting her presentation, she stated, “I always ask for the most uncomfortable chair.” “It keeps me alert,” and after that, she asked the audience to breathe in and out. It seems a meditative opening of an acting class. Abramovic began her lecture by quoting the famous statement of American artist Bruce Nauman about art: ‘It is said that art is a matter of life and death, this may be melodramatic, but it is also true.’
Italian artist Piero Manzoni’s phrase ‘I don’t care whether my art is beautiful or ugly. But it must be true’ was taken up by Abramovic to explain her stance on art.
There are times during the presentation that rely heavily on video snippets. “When you start performance, you are like a child walking in unknown territory. First, I had to find out what the limits of my physical body are,” Marina explains, and she adds, “Suffering.” Mortality. Fear of pain. These are the three things people are afraid of. Every kind of art deals with this. I want to show the public that I am the mirror. If I can do this, causing pain to get free from the pain, you can do it yourself.”
Over the next two hours, the 79-year-old Yugoslavian artist played video clips of other well-known pieces that emerged from Europe, North and South America, and Australia in the 20th century. These included unsettling performances by artists like Chris Burden and Mike Parr, long-term pieces like the year-long works of Taiwanese artist Tehching Hsieh, and emotionally charged clips of dance legend Pina Bausch and Vito Acconci, who was credited with using his body to tell stories. Later, the Turkish-German Nezakat Ekici and Indonesian Melati Suryodarmo performed contemporary pieces.
Abramovic also included snippets of her well-known performances, such as Rest Energy (1980) and The Lovers (1988), in which she collaborated with her then-partner Frank Uwe Laysiepen (commonly known as Ulay), whom she met in the middle of the 1970s and worked with for the next 12 years.
Listing the statements of artists from various fields of art, Abramovic expressed where she stands in art, what art is, and the extent of its methods. Over and over, Abramovic quoted artists and addressed the question ‘Who is the Artist?’ throughout the presentation. Quoting the artist Kasimir Malevich, who said, ‘I am a new step,’ she explained that creating art is a new step and, as Joseph Beuys said, ‘the artist is a shaman.’ What is performance? Abramovic said that it should be conveyed the energy between you and the public, and that ‘even the artist’s breath is art’.
“When I started performing, the most important thing for me was to find the limits of my physical body. There are three things that humans are scared of: pain, suffering and their mortality. So what I was doing was taking my fears and staging them in front of the audience — to be a mirror to them, and show them that if I can do it, then you can do it yourself. Later, over time, I realised that it is not enough for me to do it. I have to teach you how to make that journey for yourself.”
Abramović’s Kochi appearance served as further evidence of why she is still regarded as one of the most important artists in modern art. She replied with clarity and passion to the Biennale’s invitation to connect, provoke, and inspire dialogue. For Kochi, it was a historic occasion; for the viewers, it was an experience they would remember long after the Biennale ended.
Contributor
