I have never witnessed a performance art show, since it’s a relatively nascent artistic phenomenon to gain attention from the general population. The closest I ever got was visiting the Curator’s Office, a gallery near Logan Circle, to examine the extraordinary documentation of D.C. native and performance artist Kathryn Cornelius’s edgy experiment, performed in summer 2012. “Let’s Not Ever Be Strangers Again” details 34-year-old Cornelius’s experience of getting married to seven different people in seven hours, and promptly divorcing each one merely an hour after the wedding vows. All in a day’s work.
The tripartite exhibition, all purposefully arranged in the small, quaint space of the Curator’s Office, first features a video montage, “Save the Date,” of the blissful unions and almost immediate separations. All seven spousal volunteers were selected through social media, and featured a diversity of races, ages (the oldest being 58-year-old Dr. Fred), heights, and genders. One of the men came suitably dressed in a Superman tee, comically adding to the farce of it all.
Everyone plays the roles to perfection; aside from an occasional giveaway chuckle and slight awkwardness, the unknowing spectators-turned-guests at the Corcoran were fooled by their feigned heartfelt emotions. Each ceremony was replete with wedding albums, cake, and even one dramatic dip kiss. Romantic gestures were duly performed, and I was particularly taken by how each wedding dance was modulated to fit the personality and culture of each partner. Cornelius danced to everything from hip-hop to the chicken dance depending on the person she was currently married to, and did so with equal gusto.
The intense fallout arrives when each of them starts saying, “I just can’t do this anymore,” and “I don’t even know who you are,” which, ironically, is true. The image of Cornelius standing alone in seemingly genuine tears and eventually going into hysterics is nonetheless evocative of true tragedy and loss.
I was at first skeptical of this performance—sure, it was an interesting exploration of the social institution of marriage with its fragility and flaws, but I felt artificiality undermined the impact and truth of the experiment. I could see from the video, however, the connection Cornelius still has with each of her spouses, and the veracity of emotions. One almost cannot help but root for the blissful couple on the Corcoran steps. How many couples can actually claim to know each other fully? Or deny that relationships sometimes require acting?
Even Cornelius, then attached to her boyfriend of eight years, was so emotionally drained to the point that she staged another filmed performance titled, “The Awakening.” Still in the wedding dress, she spins on the same spot until she devolves into complete disarray and lies still on the ground. This was a symbolic cleansing for her, and seemed to comprise the piece’s resolution, if such a clean ending is ever even possible.
