Rhythm

Imagine this. You have no control over your body. You don’t have a say; you don’t have any command over what’s happening to you. All you get to do is watch and process. Your movements restricted, your eyes constantly on the lookout for anything potentially dangerous.

Although it’s not that simple, this idea is not as far fetched as it may seem at first. In fact, more often then not, we are subjected to unwanted criticism. And more often than not, we choose to remain passive and silent. On a daily basis, we all look for validation, for approval, for some sort of recognition. To some extent, we’ve all handed over some of the power and control of our decisions

to those around us. But what would happen if you surrendered all of it?

The terrifying social experiment of 1974, ‘Rhythm 0,’ is one experiment that took this idea to another extreme. Performative artist Marina Abramović, an artist renowned for her unparalleled commitment and dedication to her art, uncovered the mind’s hidden intents with her petrifying performance. Or as many would like to put it, exposed the wicked side of human nature.

As a part of Rhythm 0, Abramović stood stock-still in an art gallery for six hours on end. This was a segment of a series of performances and with Rhythm 0 particularly she wanted to break away from more traditional media of art- to instead turn to using her own body as art. She sought a form of

performance in which she could place power in the hands of the viewer, who was now a collaborator. The audience at the art gallery was told to look at her objectively and given the following instructions.

There are 72 objects on that table that one can use on me as desired.

Performance.

I am the object

During this period I take full responsibility.

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The objects on the table included knives, feather, lipstick, camera, scalpel, a gun and a single bullet among other things.

What started off as a hesitant crowd of viewers trying to make sense of the performance, repositioning her ams, giving her a rose- small innocuous actions, soon transitioned into something vicious and incomprehensible.

The audience grew violent and aggressive and people started turning to the hazardous objects on the table- ones you’d think many would steer clear off. Abramović was pricked with rose thorns, poured oil over, taken pictures of, left standing half- naked with her clothing cut out and about a dozen other things, the gory details of which wouldn’t be passed off without a trigger warning.

One collaborator even came close enough to use the gun. Gun cocked and all. Pointed to her head. What’s astounding isn’t just Abramović’s ability to outvie her physical and psychological pain and stand motionless for six hours, but how when the burden of consequences gets taken out of the picture, people could go to such an extent to harm someone when given the authority. One can’t

help but recollect the shocking results of the Milgram and Stanford experiments- both chilling reminders of how blind authority and power can make a man.

Delving deeper into why- maybe it was the choice of objects given, maybe her gender compelled them to tread further- with passivity considered the essence of the ideal female, or perhaps, it was the assumption that she’s an artist seeking experiences and pain, something to inspire her.

Whatever the reasoning and thought process might be, the scariest part, undoubtedly, is the idea that these were normal, regular people- out to enjoy the art work. Just normal people that didn’t possibly picture themselves picking up those objects, before they stepped out of their houses. Once the six hours were up, Abramović stood there, tears welled in her eyes and blood dripping

from her neck. As history has told us, time and again, society and passive victims go back a long unfortunate way. Only when Marina stepped forward, approaching her audience, did the masses scatter, unable to confront their own actions and take responsibility. Six hours of viewing someone differently and- what was considered basic and instinctive- their sense of empathy had evaporated into thin air.

“If you leave it up to the audience, they can kill you,” Abramović later described.

What happened in 1974 was disturbing, appalling and six hours of complete horror for Marina Abramovic. But what is today like?

Are concepts of altruism and empathy really fantastical, bizarre attributes of the human mind? Does it, surprisingly, take conscious effort to shoot down feelings of hatred and abuse? What is the price a passive victim has to pay? And most importantly, how relevant are these questions today? What is today like?