Marina Abramovic: The Artist Is Present
Early in Matthew Akers’ documentary Marina Abramovic: The Artist Is Present, an interviewer apologizes for asking Abramovic questions she must have been asked a hundred times before, but the Serbian-born, sexagenarian New York performance artist tells him she’s disappointed he hasn’t asked the one big question she used to get asked constantly: “Why is this art?” Few serious arts journalists are as skeptical of Abramovic as they once were, which is a testament to her endurance, and to the decades she’s spent touring the world, exhibiting her work and herself. (Not that there’s any real difference between the two.) Abramovic first rose to prominence in the ’70s with pieces that involved her wounding her own naked body. Then she found a partner in art and life, a German artist who calls himself “Ulay,” who joined her in pieces that explored gender roles and relationships. After she and Ulay split—via a piece that saw the two of them walking toward each other atop The Great Wall Of China—Abramovic’s work moved in a more theatrical direction, and she became increasingly entrenched in the larger artistic community.