{"id":316,"date":"2021-10-27T08:46:18","date_gmt":"2021-10-27T08:46:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/24\/?p=316"},"modified":"2021-12-28T17:13:20","modified_gmt":"2021-12-28T17:13:20","slug":"sonic-antagonism-the-sounding-audience-of-performance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/24\/sonic-antagonism-the-sounding-audience-of-performance\/","title":{"rendered":"Sonic Antagonism: The Sounding Audience of Performance"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Andrej Mircev<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Focusing on two examples, the performance Revolt Against Violence<\/font> (2012) by the Kosovo artist Fitore Berisha and the theatre work Our Violence and Your Violence<\/font> (2016) by the Croatian artist Oliver Frljic, this article examines the sonic environment in which the works were realized. In both cases, right-wing protesters tried to stop events by starting to sing patriotic songs, which led to an auditory response from the audience. Cross connecting performance and sound studies, I am arguing that the figure of sonic antagonism can be applied to explore the ideological rifts in the post-Yugoslav region (Croatia and Serbia), where these works were shown.

Keywords<\/strong>: Sonic antagonism, ideology, territoriality, antiphony <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Assuming that artistic and cultural performances can trigger antagonistic acoustic reactions, this text discusses the sonic consequences of two performances that provoked responses from right-wing protesters in Belgrade and Split. I examine the projects by Fitore Berisha and Oliver Frlji\u0107, interrogating the political effects of art in a seriously antagonized cultural field, overshadowed by the aftereffects of the war in the 90s and the disintegration of Yugoslavia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Map of former socialist Yugoslavia. Photo: Web<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

As a multicultural nation-state, Yugoslavia existed first as a kingdom (1918\u201341) and from 1945 until 1991 as a socialist country in south-east Europe. With the collapse of socialist structures and communism after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, Yugoslav society faced an increasing rise of nationalism, fueled by growing clerical voices as well as those of fascist groups who survived WWII in exile and started returning to the country. The result of the process was more than one hundred thousand deaths, many destroyed cities and about four million refugees. In political and economic terms, the consequence of this violent conversion from socialism to neoliberalism is a violently divided territory in which, instead of freedom, democracy has led to social inequality, xenophobia, precarious working conditions and a collective confusion.        <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Focusing on the figure of sonic antagonism, I will outline an epistemic framework to survey these ideological changes, approaching them as cultural and sonic frictions. According to the Dictionary of Critical Theory<\/em>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

existence of ideology must be explained as originating in material practice, meaning the sum of the productive forces, capital and social forms of existence. . . . Ideology is an essential feature of the reproduction of social relations in all societies (including communist societies) and that it is its mechanism of interpellation that constitutes individuals as subjects<\/p>Macey 198\u201399<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The acoustic performances that I intend to examine seem to function precisely within the logic of interpellation, which for Louis Althusser is the way ideology recruits its subjects. Giving an example of interpellation in the act of police hailing\u2014\u201cHey, you there!\u201d (Althusser 86)\u2014it could be asked what the relationship between ideology and a sonic performance is. On the other hand, the proposition I am following here is that \u201ctheatre is a social institution that by and large reflects the ideological assumptions and beliefs of the dominant order\u201d (Davis ix). Revealing the conflicting political reality in Serbia and Croatia, the performances by Berisha and Frlji\u0107 demonstrate the ability of contemporary theatre practices to expose the ideological foundations of the new national states that grew out of the breakdown of Yugoslavia.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

If it can be argued that there is something like a visceral experience of sounding, then it seems perhaps plausible to conceive of a discourse, in which \u201cthinking through sound\u201d (Henriques XV) discloses the possibility to articulate a sonic expression of ideology. This approach brings the field of Performance Studies into dialogue with Sound Studies and Critical Theory. The capacity of sounding to reflect political subjectification turns it into a powerful heuristic and diagnostic instrument for sharpening the focus for the political impact of art. At the same time, such an analysis demonstrates how ideological mechanisms can be explored by considering the sonic antagonism triggered by the performances.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While the construction of ideology mostly seems to happen through language, embodied practices and visual messages, research connecting sound to ideology seems to be lacking. Arguing that in two works the sonic performance becomes the medium of ideological interpellation, my intention is to demonstrate how sounding and sound can reveal the circulation of political ideas. One benefit from such a methodological reorientation, which places the emphasis on sound in the construction of ideology instead of images and language, is that it opens up an inquiry to reflect on the connection between sonic performances and the mobilization of political affects.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will discuss two examples\u2014the dance performance by the Kosovo artist Berisha Revolt Against Violence<\/em> and the theatre performance by the Croatian theatre director Frlji\u0107 Our Violence and Your Violence<\/em>\u2014that will show the challenging relationship between performance and politics in the postwar zone of former Yugoslavia. Departing from these two case studies, I would like to discuss how cultural struggles can be related to specific sound constellations and audience reactions. Hence, I will argue that the sonic dimensions of these works not only influenced their aesthetic and receptive modalities but also determined the socio-political effects. Making visible the frictions within Serbian and Croatian society, Berisha and Frlji\u0107 challenge the imagined political communities and the religious underpinnings of the two nation states that grew out of the ruins of Yugoslavia. What these examples will hopefully show is the power of contemporary performance to put on trial conservative representations of the state and the church. In doing so, the two works reveal the toxic alliances between nationalism, patriarchal structures of domination and religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Mythic Refrain of Serbian Nationalism <\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Scheduled as the opening event of the Miredita <\/em>festival in Belgrade, the dance performance Revolt Against Violence<\/em> took place on May 30, 2017. The festival aims to promote cultural exchange between the artistic scene of Serbia and cultural workers from Kosovo. It has been taking place in the Serbian capital since 2014. According to their web page:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Visitors to the Festival will have an opportunity to learn more about the cultural scene of Kosovo\u2014theatre, film, music, and visual art. Besides the above mentioned, public debates which will critically examine relationships between Serbia and Kosovo from the standpoint of inheritance from the past, as well as perspective for cooperation in the area of economy, trade, education, sport, civil sector and all segments of the society, will be held.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Due to the presence of right-wing protesters who have regularly tried to interrupt its events with loud demonstrations, the festival is considered to be a high-risk event. This means that fully armed police have to protect the organizers, the artists and the audiences. The reason for this hostility is the disagreement regarding the unclear status of the Republic of Kosovo. While Kosovo is de facto<\/em> functioning as an independent state, the Serbian authorities and a large part of the population deny this, claiming that the formerly autonomous province is temporarily an occupied territory, but still a legitimate (yet, in their view, \u201cstolen\u201d) part of Serbia. Being thus an unresolved political and territorial issue, the tension between Serbs and Kosovo Albanians obstructs a shared future for two neighboring nations still waiting to become full members of the EU.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Kosovo Myth is one of the historical themes at the center of Serbian nationalism since the mid-1980s. Present in the historical imagination since the nineteenth century, when Serbs started to fight for their independence from the Ottoman Empire, the myth survived because it was a vital part of cultural and religious memory. Dating back to the year 1389, when the Ottoman empire invaded the medieval Serbian state, the Battle of Kosovo became the cornerstone of the national imagination and identity; something like a \u201ccultural artifact\u201d (Anderson 4) in establishing the nationhood of modern-day Serbia. Sidelined by the ideology of unity and brotherhood during the years of socialism (1941\u201391), the narrative of the brave Serbian knights who protect the Christian world from Islam resurfaced after the death of President Tito in 1980. Furthermore, it became the key factor for the resurgence of various patriotic and nationalist agendas that went hand in hand with the return to models of religious identity after the collapse of socialism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Berisha is a visual artist from Kosovo, who has been living and working between Prishtina and Iceland. In her multimedia work, she explores affective states of desperation and joy with the aim of empowering women in their fight against patriarchal oppression. Short in duration (5 min.), her work Revolt Against Violence<\/em> is structured as a dance duet performed by a female and a male performer. After being shown in Prishtina at the FemmeArt<\/em> festival in 2016, this non-verbal choreography was invited to Belgrade to the Miredita<\/em> festival, scheduled to be performed in the hall of Dom Omladine (Youth Centre<\/em>; my translation). The first thing the audience sees upon entering the performance space are four black and white photos of torsos bearing black inscriptions. Different expressions in different languages like Albanian, Serbian, English signify the following concepts and events: war, aids, politics, drugs, crime, rape, conflict, trafficking, abuse, fear, lesbianism, and so on. In the context of the title of the piece, these sentences can semantically and conceptually be related to violence. The issue of power relations and the violent misuse of power in psychological and social situations is thereby clearly framed (fig. 1).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Fig. 1. Performance: Revolt Against Violence<\/em>, Fitore Berisha, 2017. Photo: Fitore Berisha<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

The performance is structured as a series of choreographed encounters between two bodies of opposite sex. In the beginning, the dancers are lying flat on the ground. The song \u201cSurrender\u201d (composed by the Icelandic composer and Indie musician \u00d3l\u00f6f Arnalds) accompanies their movements, creating a dreamy and melancholic atmosphere. After they have circled the floor for a minute, the dancers slowly start reacting to each other’s presence. As the male dancer wraps himself around the female dancer, they start moving together. At this point, the choreography develops a nonverbal story about human relationships that are gentle and caring. However, as the execution of movements gets faster and the performance intensifies, the affects shift, and, instead of a tender relationship, the audience experiences tension and violence. The first part reaches its highpoint when the female dancer pushes her partner to the ground (fig. 2).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Fig. 2. Performance: Revolt Against Violence<\/em>, Fitore Berisha, 2017. Photo: Fitore Berisha<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

The female dancer now takes the lead. She lifts him from the ground and caresses his face. The dance becomes a series of embraces, touches and encounters but also disconnections and departures. Swinging between acts of love and violence, joy and anger, the moving bodies portray the complicated affective relationship between men and women. In the final sequence\u2014after the male dancer is pushed down\u2014she stands resolutely while he remains motionless on the ground. In terms of gender relations, it is a reversal of male dominance and a performative expression of the empowerment of woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Berisha wrote about the work the following:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What this artwork represents is a reminder that we are all vulnerable to any kind of violation regardless of where we come from, what class, and what the colour of our skin is. By realising that if we stand up and rebel against inequalities, exploitation and human violation of any kind, we are protecting ourselves and the future of our children against those that disregard the sanctity of life in order to gain more power and more money.<\/p>Berisha<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Since its first edition in 2014, right-wing extremists, football hooligans and patriots supported by militant clerical structures from the Serbian Orthodox Church have regularly organized demonstrations against the Miredita<\/em> festival. Before the performance was to begin, a group of protesters gathered at the entrance to the venue. One of the groups involved in the protest was members of the far-right nationalist party \u201cOathkeepers\u201d (Serbian: Srpski sabor Zavetnici<\/em>), whose ideology is characterized as conservative, homophobic, Russophile and anti-EU. Their female leader and spokesperson, Milica Djurdjevic, claimed that the performance was offensive as it suggests that the male dancer represents a Serbian soldier abusing a woman from Kosovo. In other words, the protesters (mis)interpreted and (mis)read the choreographic action, identifying it as an act of rape. This, in their view, corresponds with the agenda of the festival to portray the Serbs as perpetrators. For the protesters, however, it is the Serbs who must be represented as victims.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although the police secured the venue, a group of ten protesters succeeded in entering the hall. Carrying disturbing images of dead civilians, portraits of Kosovo leaders (accused of committing war crimes against Serbs) and placards with the slogan \u201cKosovo is Serbia,\u201d they joined and mixed with the audience. After the performance had begun, they loudly started to sing the folk song Oi Kosovo, Kosovo<\/em>, which had become popular in right-wing circles after Kosovo claimed independence in 2008. One of the strophes declares: \u201cAll Serbs shout: `We are not giving you away Kosovo! It was always ours, through the ages it stayed ours! Oi Kosovo, Kosovo my beloved land! The land of great knights Lazar and Milo\u0161!\u201c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Loud applause counteracted the singing, and the protesters stopped their ineffective performance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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