I interpreted this particular assignment as a kind of micro-capstone for this class. A chance to say anything I didn’t have a chance to express over the course of the semester, but also kind of summing up an underlying value that can be traced in doses throughout my TMA 112 collection. I’ve explored a lot of ideas about identity and gender, so that seemed like the natural focus for my project. I also wanted to treat the Fireside Chat as more of an art performance piece, that way I would be forced to creatively convey a particular issue, as we do with previous projects, rather than didactically preach, treat this as a therapy/confession session, or exploit personal experiences in order to achieve some sort of desired response.
I can’t remember the exact moment I knew what I was going to do, but after writing out my feelings on the subject, brainstorming some lackluster performance ideas, and talking several people’s ears off, I knew I wanted to deconstruct a box of tampons on stage. I have been concerned with the stigmatization of feminine hygiene products for a while now. My own experiences dealing with being comfortable and not trying to diminish all evidence of this natural occurrence had a lot to do with the conception of this performance piece. In the piece, I bring a box of tampons on stage, hidden in a plastic bag. I open the box secretively, and quickly hide a tampon in my jacket. But when it falls out, I am forced to deal with the fact that my audience now knows of its existence, and the implications that come with having a tampon on you.
I think this is a big reason why women try to hide their tampons and periods in general. We think that if someone knows that we are menstruating, then they can assume we are also grumpy, having a difficult time, aren’t sexually available, and may be suffering from improper hygiene and weird smells. I believe in breaking this fear, and these assumptions. In my piece, I wanted to celebrate tampons in a way that broke people’s discomfort, or at least made them aware of it. I chose Bjork to dance to, who encompasses both the power as well as the nuances of being a woman. In my performance, I expected that the men, whom some of may have never seen the inside of a tampon package in their live, would experience some discomfort with the subject, and the women, who all have very personal experiences with this, would cringe at the money and valuable resource I was wasting. Believe me, I know.
There was an unexpected piece of my performance that I hope translated to some people, and that was the very end, where I had to clean up the mess I had made. I believe that this whole issue of women not being comfortable with publicly acknowledging their menstruations is them “cleaning up” their tampons for the sake of other people. Bleeding isn’t embarrassing, unless it’s associated with gender. I suggest that women stop carrying their entire backpack with them out of class when they go to bathroom. I suggest that we walk up to the checkout line with the male employee without a second thought because we have tampons and chocolate in our basket. I suggest we stop taxing products that we literally need in order to function once a month. I suggest that we just be more open with our bodies in general, and embrace and love our bodies.
Finally, there is the third layer of my performance: the flash poetry. I was inspired by Pipilotti Rist, a artist and filmmaker who explores similar themes about gender. In her feature film Pepperminta, Rist goes as far as to have her characters drink menstrual blood. It’s so beautiful, lyrical, and celebratory, I wanted to do the same. So to accompany the music and the performance, I included a piece of my own poetry about gender, sexuality, and identity. The poem uses phrases and words to paint a picture of confidence with ourselves and to encourage a movement towards being okay with our bodies, our genders, and the nuance and ambiguity in our identities.
Now that the performance is done, I am interested in exploring it more, and perhaps will replicate a similar performance elsewhere.
