Alakazam
camera-vest prop used in performance
video-still from performance
location of performance
My artwork Alakazam is a prop-based, site-specific action that directly responds to social, political and cultural conditions which have characterised the post 9-11 era of counter-terror. Both the prop and documentation of the action are exhibited as a gallery installation. The prop used is a specially constructed camera-vest made out of five disposable cameras and a rudimentary support of thin medium density fibre board (MDF) and black strapping. (figure 2.) The cameras are attached with Velcro and gaffer tape to five MDF plates arranged in a rough pentagon around the torso. The plates have mechanics mounted on them which wind the cameras and depress the shutters. These mechanics are activated by hand-held buttons which allow the cameras to be wound and discharged simultaneously. The power source consists of batteries attached to the two front supports with black gaffer tape. The immediate visual impression of the vest is one of menace because the intentionally exposed red and black wiring, as well as the improvised look of the electrical tape, evokes the stereotypical visual profile of a suicide bomber with a bomb strapped to their body. The clusters of batteries also evoke ‘ammo belts’ with their shining metal cylinders visible from under the tape.
My action Alakazam took place at the Sydney Opera House at around 8pm on July 24, 2010. (figure 3.) In the semi-darkness, I strapped on the specially made camera vest as I stood between the Concert Hall and the restaurant (above the colonnade entry to the Studio and Playhouse) where tourists usually stand to look at and photograph the Sydney Harbour Bridge. (figure 4.) I then switched the flashes on all the cameras to ‘on’ and proceeded to press the button which winds the cameras simultaneously. When the cameras had all ‘clicked’, I depressed the button which activates the solenoids that press the shutters, simultaneously causing the flashes to discharge in a fashion emphasised by the darkness of the evening. I repeated the winding and discharging for all 25 shots of film without stopping. I stayed in the same place, sometimes turning or moving a few steps out of restlessness and a desire to capture varied images. I then took off the vest. The whole action lasted about ten minutes.
Prior to the action I felt very anxious, sweaty and experienced an increased heart rate. I was afraid that the temperamental device would malfunction. I was also concerned about confrontations with security and apprehensive about the response of any bystanders. As the action got underway the device seemed to be working well and my anxiety dissipated. While my apprehensiveness about the response of any bystanders or security remained, I drew almost no overt attention. At one stage a man took out a wheelie bin nearby without batting an eyelid. When all the film was exhausted I felt my body flooded with a sense of elation and relief, as well as surprise that no one had reacted.
The action was documented with a single digital video camera operated by assistants from a distance of around 30 metres. A tripod was used and filming was discreet in order to minimise the effect on the aura of the action. The camera was set to ‘night-vision’ in order to allow better visibility in the low-light conditions and to dramatise the effect of the flash discharge.
In the gallery, the installation of Alakazam consists of the camera-vest, photos and video from the action. The vest is displayed on a minimal, custom made aluminium frame which is mounted on a white plinth. The video footage is on a ten minute loop and shown on a seven inch monitor above head height. The 125 photos developed from the cameras are arranged in a chaotic collage on the wall.
