PHYSICAL VISION
Lynn Book is one terrific performer. Her presence onstage is utterly captivating. From the moment that I walked into the gallery, discovering Book onstage methodically arranging flowers in a large ceramic vase, she commanded my attention. Her gestures were short, efficient, restrained, like those of a classically trained dancer. Her expression was severe, her gaze penetrating. She seemed perfectly in control of the finely tuned instrument that was her body.
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Book exploits this instrument with great success in her new solo performance piece, Physical Vision. This seductive, hypnotic, and highly personal work (developed from the artist’s journals, according to a program note), while somewhat lacking in scope, challenges us with a singularly unusual image: a woman sensually engaged with her own body. Unusual simply because this is an image whose validity is categorically denied in our male-dominated culture. The female body, particularly in artistic representation, is normatively portrayed as the object/fulfillment of male fantasy. Women in our culture are encouraged to view their bodies as objects which must be re-created and selectively eroticized for male appreciation, through makeup, clothing, dieting, and reconstructive surgery. A woman who chooses to enjoy herself for herself arguably makes a defiant gesture.
The piece can be read as a series of unveilings–both literal and figurative–that reveal not deeper levels of meaning but rather different ways of experiencing. At one point Book lies on the table and the lights black out. Then, as she goes through a series of poses, a bright white light pierces the darkness at certain moments, revealing a thigh, a breast, a shoulder. Throughout she whispers seductively yet unintelligibly, hinting that her body harbors some secret that might be revealed if only we could hear.
Jill Daly’s direction, while giving the piece a lovely pace, often ignores significant moments. At one point Book lies on the table and knocks the vase of flowers to the floor. The vase shatters, throwing water, stones, and shards of pottery all over the front of the stage. Not only is this potentially weighty moment difficult to see, staged within two feet of the first row of the audience, but it is given no time to resonate. Book immediately launches into a monologue, giving us no time to reflect on the significance of what has just happened.
