I love the sound of that, “Master class”. It makes one feel quite the expert, not a beginner anymore, and, supposedly able to produce a “masterpiece” in old terms something “unique,” made by an expert with years of training, skill and an apprenticeship served, not a run of the mill ready – made, or mass produced item. Thereby amassing greater value by consequence of this order.

I found myself on a train heading North to the MCAC Gallery in Portadown on the 16th January, due to an e mail sent by my friends Sinead O Donnell and Hugh her brother who are both “Master” Performance artists themselves, both internationally active artists.

It was great to be able to be mobile after a month of ice age movement restrictions and various other weather related problems. On arriving early I was kindly given a coffee and had time to view this artist Andre Stitts paintings around the gallery and his show, Somewhere/Nowhere/Anywhere.
This body of work was Location Specific Work where this artist made work which translated into paintings and Performance Art, later into book form, and documentation. Linked to that work was the workshop in which us six participants went to Rathmore estate, Craigavon to make live art on site both solo, and merging at times collectively.

The introduction lecture was interesting. It was based on Stitts own relationship to his city, Belfast, his relationship with art college during the 60s/70s which made him feel outside of the institution. To make this point he burnt his drawings in public outside the college and continued to work alone in various unused sites and buildings, making actions “akshun” which is the sound of a northern accent but also means life?
Luckily for him his girlfriend took photos so some records were there for the Institution to grade and qualify him.
Always this ill defined notion of Performance art. What it is is? What it is not? The in house squabbling amongst artists.
Yet something definite can be pinned down from time to time which helps me make work with focus once I have something to catch my concentration to.
The handout definition went as follows;

“Performance artworks often identified as time based or ephemeral activities are always temporary and often influenced by the place, site, context and the time in which they occur.
As such they draw our attention to the very nature and process of art making and the connection of exchange made in the moment of encounter.”

Prior to coming we were invited to bring items with us.
An item connected to an important memory, a material substance linked to our own art practice, A Newspaper from our home, building material from our home of origin. We were provided with white overall for protection(?) Also given some items such as a white enamel cup and plate and a knife forks and spoons. The area was strange for me as it was the remains of a housing estate built in the 60s that was entirely removed leaving only the edges of roads, left behind piping etc and bits of walls. It had grown wild, like some holocaust film setting, on a five minute reccy we chose our site or sites to work from, having only one hour to do so.
The gallery had a camera to record our work in progress.

I found a small track through the grass that led to a small circular enclosed by brambles and trees, the middle was den like but wild, old leaves underfoot with remains of maybe kids or teenagers presence, cigarette butts, coke cans etc.
I set about projecting myself onto the site, simply making art alone by claiming the site, just sweeping with twigs any debris or possible dangerous items out of my way, claiming some pipes and debris I made a sort of circular instillation. After thinking of my brought material (a long piece of soft white gauze material) I made my work. The fabric became a breathing, moving, winding, stillness and at times erratic leaping and jumping object representing the internalization of my life and the life of the site.

I remembered watching this place on TV news reports long ago as many bodies, victims and unknown trouble happened here, many snipers around, so partly recreating near death experiences of my own and others I lay on the damp leaves surrounded by the white gauze with only the sound of birds people and cars in the distance. I was found and told the time was up…
I remember at one point I left my space and interacted with the other artists who in their own way were using the site to make art, one had found and painted an old pram trolley, others had found bags of soot and were banging them on the ground creating clouds of black dust, the O Donnell team were dragging bits of iron between them from place to place, I had a sort of tug of war with Sinead as my material and her metal gate got sort of locked to gather.

This was interesting but for me being aware of the site and my own imaginings was for me ‘The Work’. I valued however the chance afterwards to look and discuss our work to gather. I was a bit amused and interested in how I looked from the viewers point of view -  at times the work had a strange mystic quality, but at times I engaged the camera with a gaze but just looked like a sort of sad mother Therese!
Yet I was very pleased I had gone, that I had engaged with others on a site and was led by a good mentor in Andre.
I came away more determined to keep making Performance Art. I sometimes lose focus being on my own so much in my work.
I feel somewhat like Walter Mitty, in a separate secret world, should I be there? Or should I not…?

The miracle is that anything /site can become art. Just my body and its history can project onto the site, both externally and internally. A sort of mapping takes place. My mind tracks back and the actions might seem odd but relate to the history of the body. It is interesting how through time things change but don’t. I was found jumping around, amusing to Andre but in my head was re-inacting games in a similar Den as a child.
A sort of Ghost dance, I left traces of my past there, also left the Irish Times hanging from a branch!

“The Work continually searches out those small illusive moments and images that actually represent and implicit us all in a larger global narrative.”
(Notes from Andre Stitt talk,)

This quote happily complies with my own found narrative of being the everywoman, waiting for Godot with a smile on her face.
I was in this god forsaken site but it enriched me, I could work there, make real art, live, be, and come away entranced by my own efforts turned into something strange but really satisfying.
It was only a work shop, the film made was not good enough for future use, it never will be seen in the wider art context, I won’t get money for it but I do believe by telling you here, this was/is art. I have done it and now am telling you, so visualise it. It happened, I made it so it’s on record now, verbally, digitally, That’s good enough.

Hilary Williams