展览名称： 愤怒的球
策展人： 席 宇
展览时间： 2010年6月12日——7月19日
开幕时间： 2010年6月12日 下午3-6点 现场互动表演
参展艺术家： 奥里特·阿瑟瑞
Title: Raging Balls
Curator: Xi Yu
Date: June 12th – July 12th, 2010
Opening: 3-6 pm, June 12th, 2010 Live interactive performance
Artists: Oreet Ashery
愤怒的球所探讨的是艺术家与观众对待政治，以及国家意识对个人干预的看法，无论是局内人还是局外人，我们所面对的问题是当前的我们如何体验着愤怒。
Raging Balls asks how should artists and audiences deal with politics, increased state control and real life, as insiders and outsiders, and how we are experiencing rage today.
Ashery started to think about Raging Balls after she witnessed three policemen using unnecessary force against a person who had nothing on him, as part of a ‘Stop and Search’ procedures. Influenced by Giorgio Agamben’s influential work Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life (1998), Raging Balls is about being a biological body, as opposed to a body with rights, outside the law. Palestinians under the Israeli occupation, are a good example of the homo Sacer, they are controlled by the state, yet, there are no laws to protect them, or even consider them citizens.
Raging Balls talks about the complex relationships between increased global state control and security apparatuses, and the illusion that art can somehow protect us from this. In a schizophrenic manner Raging Balls also talks about the art world’s obsession with reality, war and conflicts. Political art comes under scrutiny in an ambiguous manner.
Raging Balls asks how should artists deal with politics and real life as insiders and outsiders.
阿瑟瑞曾目睹过三个警察对一个手无寸铁的人嚷道：“站住，搜查!”，然后对他施暴，这也促使了她创作《愤怒的球》这件作品。受到乔治·阿甘本(Giorgio Agamben)的名作《神圣的人[1]：君主权力与赤条条的命》(Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life)(1998)的影响，《愤怒的球》体现的是没有权利的生物性个体，它处在法律体制之外。以色列统治下的巴勒斯坦人正是典型的“神圣的人”，他们被国家控制，但是却得不到法律保护，甚至不被视为国家公民。《愤怒的球》讲述的是在全球化背景下不断加强的国家控制与安全机制，以及艺术可以使我们免于这种控制的幻想之间的复杂关系。这件作品还以一种精神分裂症的方式表现了艺术世界所关注的现实、战争与矛盾冲突等问题。带有政治色彩的艺术总是或多或少地处于监视之下。《愤怒的球》所提出的问题是：无论是作为局内人还是局外人，艺术家应该如何处理政治与现实生活之间的关系?
《愤怒的球》在表演过程中，有无数个球让观众用来掷向表演者。表演者们要尽力用艺术杂志挡住球，来保护自己，并且有时候还可以将球掷回观众，从而造成一场完全安全无伤害的暴乱。观众和表演者之间的这种互动引发了一些问题，譬如关于愤怒的本质、观众与表演者之间的契约限制、本能反应和儿时对于扔球游戏的喜爱。
Extracts from the Essay
Every Alter Ego has a Different Memory
by Stephen Wilson
Extracts from the same name Essay
Published by the Live Art Development Agency, in Ashery’s monograph Dancing with Men, 2009
In adopting the use of alter egos, fictional characters and various biographies, Oreet Ashery constantly reminds us how the very existence of multiple selves is a liberator of difference. Yet Ashery’s individualism triumphs over the varied representations of meaning attached to her characters. Her interactive performances and other works, over the last ten years demonstrate a predilection for characters that are both standardised within community settings as well as being unorthodox. Throughout this period, she has been cultivating a viewer’s perception of the probable function and use of an alter ego as one of the underlying premises of her practice. She rather conspicuously creates a global view of anti-social misfits who are in fact a creative bunch,1and even more majestic is that they somehow represent authentic lives with or without the authoritarian consent of art and life.
…
2.
When encountering Ashery’s Angry Drum, one’s first reaction is to wonder what the drum is angry about. Apart from its exquisite little face drawn by Ashery, the drum, has an outer ring – chequered in red and white paper and glued to a frame – that includes the words “Made in Syria” typed to a scuffed sticker. Drums are the subject or the object of continual battering – no wonder this one is angry. Knowing Ashery’s political concerns, one can safely assume a metaphoric link (and especially after 9/11) to Western perceptions of the Arab world. Moving away from the Syrian reference, it is not possible to discern a specific gender to the drum, neither can it hear anything, as it has no ears, drawn or other wise. This leaves one guessing as to how anger might be represented. What is sure is that anger is readily represented and the viewer is compelled to partake in the burden of the drum’s responsibilities.
The Angry Drum is no more than a prop that sits - for the most part – on a wall in Ashery’s home, and yet occasionally it is used for the purposes of art. I am personally fascinated by its angry and grumpy face. When gazing into its flatly drawn features (done by way of a permanent marker), one becomes engaged with a steadfast but vacuous stare whereby the inanimate nature of the drum (and the silence attached to this exchange) invites a troublesome query into the nature of personal commitment to the project of anger or indeed to any other forms of identification. The anger seems to subside into an abstraction to the point that it is no longer clear what the anger is alluding to. While looking into the penetrating eyes there exists moments where you forget that this is an angry object of contention. In many senses the drum is not angry at all, but pulls the viewer cleverly into the speculation of anger that is ultimately charged with assumptions; assumptions which any viewer will admit to but rarely face. Whether cultural, personal, or political, Ashery’s work is highly engaged with these concerns and how we locate them. At times it appears that its engagement is so consuming, so active, that the balance between what is understood as an art practice is under constant scrutiny. It is not new to occupy diluted yet inclusive forms of socio-political narratives, and register co-existent thematic ties while at the same time exert feelings of resentment. The Angry Drum appears as a beautiful portrait, even if it does centre on a misleading face; a gender-less being; a figure who will not listen; something tells us that it is right to be angry.
3.
Raging Balls, comprises a performance and a video, and importantly employs the audience as active participants. This culminates in a type of anti-social experiment. The work is created in part as homage to the posthumous artist David Wojnarowicz and his performance diatribe on the mismanaging of the American government’s policies regarding the AIDS crisis in the 1980s. As Ashery writes about the performance, ‘…set amidst the speech are the live interactive limits of audience/performer-instructed exchange and participation, deeming the event an experiment.’[2] Ashery is inspired by the potent handling of anger, loss,[3] illness and pain in Wojnarowicz’s frustrated tirades, but in the process, and many steps removed, discovers that perhaps, nearly 30 years on, the subject of anger and rage is not as readily available to her in such a raw form. However, she is determined to find her contemporary version. As Sylvère Lotringer adds in an interview with Wojnarowicz, ‘Rage is a terrible thing to waste.’[4]
Raging Balls presents a deliberation between Ashery and the masculine overtones of Wojnarowicz; principally Ashery’s position – from a female perspective – suggests that the notion of anger is potentially more devastating and suggestive than the act of anger itself. Raging Balls does not pretend to show anger or fictionalise it through a character (unlike Ashery’s other works), but instead reverses the imaginary process by using the face, voice and presence of a male, Chris McCormack[5] - who appears in the video and during the performance – to convey Ashery’s speech. Wojnarowicz was an artist and activist, as well as a writer and performer; his work combined photo-montage, paint and mixed media that often referred to the material sufferings of the poor through science fiction, news and environmental decay. Like Ashery, he combined diverse strands of art and politics using means of expression that often stemmed from associations of conflict, depravation and loss.
The speech in Raging Balls, which is delivered by McCormack in monotone epitaphs, readily obliterates its very own inquiry. The inquiry appears to be searching for meaning in a “stop and search” kind of process. The video work, which can be considered as divided into two parts, portrays the image of the actor’s face projected on a large screen. A band of light illuminates the centre of his face – however the framing is slightly off-centre so that the left side of the face is a fraction more in shadow.
In the first part of the video, the actor seems to be playing a wrongly accused victim who has been arrested by the police. For Ashery, he is what Giorgio Agamben calls Homo Sacer: a human being that exists outside the law as an exile who is stripped of any human rights. In Raging Balls, the meandering thoughts of the victim are combined with the re-enactment of a ‘stop and search’ scenario. The actor’s utter despair is very strong and his claims to unjust discrimination and loss of human rights appeals to a familiar concern over increased state control. This marks a general shift in current articulations of identity politics from notions of ‘Otherness’ to human rights. Or, to quote Jean Fisher, “What is at stake therefore is not respect for difference as such but respect for life, whatever the differences.”[6]
The second part of the video – which is made apparent by a tentative move in the source of light that illuminates the actors face – is a continuation of the angry speech, but this time the subject of anger, combined with the frustration over the inability to feel real anger, is dedicated in a somewhat ‘schizophrenic’ manner to the current state of ‘political art’ or art’s dubious use of politics in a post-capitalist world.
Raging Balls can be understood as Ashery’s attempt to deliver a condensed seminar; a necessary protest; an individual in constant rage against the system; or lastly an artistic right to professional frustration. As noted by Giorgio Agamben in The Man Without Content, 1994; ‘Another notion that we encounter more and more frequently in artists’ opinions is that art is something fundamentally dangerous not only for those who produce it but for society as well.’[7] On the one hand, Ashery does not exist in the piece (except for a short while in the performance)[8], on the other hand she is far more present than usual because the piece evidently declares a personal and subjective positioning as a living contemporary artist. Ashery’s deliberate choice of low-tech means, the monochromatic setting, and the linear aesthetic economy of the video, alongside the live performance, recall intentionally canonical works such as those of Bruce Nauman. Raging Balls is underscored by a retro macho belligerence that suits today’s modern poser status. There is little sacred or clear in the tirade, in fact it is the very failure of these ideals that surround the work that act as a type of self-inflicted biographical collapse; or, as noted by Jennifer Doyle’s essay in her reference to Douglas Crimp’s text; ‘the self representation of our demoralisation”.’[9]It is more in the understanding of Ashery’s previous artworks and the socio-political convictions attached to identity politics that Raging Balls marks a transitory position from Ashery’s previous use of alter egos, to her current use of text delivered by the mediation of a ‘speech act’ by a real male protagonist. Ashery has chosen to work with the fe/male body not only to refer to the history of masculinity, femininity, patriarchy, masculine cultural identities and the ensuing historical associations of power and control, but also in deference to the everyday estrangement of conformity attached to these ideals.
While all of Ashery’s characters personify male identities of distinct cultural and social soundness, some also suggest an agency of hidden anger – anger that manifests itself in the liberation of macho-feminity disguised in the uniform of a male weakening. In harnessing and emasculating the male body, these almost ‘real men’ represent individuals exploring power and collapse while engaged in alternative forms of social reconstruction and cultural exchange. Ashery is in a sense ‘fooling around’ with mainstream associations. Her new works suggest a thematic shift from the early ‘more innocent’ desires attached to Marcus Fisher, to ones that have progressed and matured.
Dr. Stephen Wilson is an independent artist, writer and lecturer based in London.
[1] Ashery is cunningly divisive in aptly naming her character Marcus Fisher with biological and metaphorical intrigue – ‘Mar-cus’ translates in Hebrew/Arabic as Mr. Cunt. Marcus Fisher extends to Boy Marcus and Young Marcus. Sarmad the Saint and Shabbtai Zvi (The Deerman – Zvi translates as ‘deer’ in Hebrew) are a recent addition of real historical figures used by Ashery as emblems of saintly performative transgressions. Also included are David Deliberate – an as yet undeveloped character that is centred on a displaced gender dysphoric mentality; The Fat Farmer (a character used for hair cutting in Central Location); The Greasy Instructor (see Shopping List for Live Art video); a black man and a white woman (see Colored Folk with Shaheen Merali); Sami Raah, an Arab man (Raah translates to ‘bad’ in Hebrew and ‘gone’ in Arabic) – see, Oh Jeruslaem and Portrait Sketch); and Masturbating Rabbit (see Occupation I, II – not in this book).
2 Ashery’s text was written for an evening of performances and films centred on the theme of protest, rebellion and revolt, titled A Staged Dissent: Life Is Interesting… When You’re Furious, at Loughborough University, 18 June 2008.
3See Giancarlo Ambrosino (ed.), David Wojnarowicz – A Definitive History of Five or Six Years on the Lower East Side, Semiotext(e), 2006, p. 177. In reading several interviews on the life of David Wojnarowicz, a man who died of AIDS, I found myself moved by his extraordinary story. He led his life surrounded by immense intellectual dignity, involving considerable deaths and an inordinate amount of suffering and pain. The overwhelming significance of living and working as an artist is tough enough for most people, but to factor in the thought of one’s own proceeding death is altogether more consuming. Wojnarowicz, incredibly, managed the knowledge of his illness alongside the limited history available to him at the time of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s with amazing aptitude. An example of this is stated during an interview with Sylvere Lotringer (held in New York in April 1989) pertaining to a book by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross titled On Death and Dying. Lotringer discusses the book’s premise of five stages surrounding death, starting with denial, rage, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. It is Wojnarowicz’s need to rearticulate preconceived sentiments connected to the notion of “courage” of friends he witnessed dying of AIDS that is of major significance. He refers to this later in terms of “rage” and concedes that when he was diagnosed with AIDS (this interview was held three months after his initial diagnosis), he felt betrayed by this supposed “courage” and more importantly “enraged” by it. Wojnarowicz and Lotringer both agree that the very “courage” that once meant something was in fact covering a deep silence, a world of politeness, or, as described by Wojnarowicz, “the more politely a person dies, the more courageous they are […] and everbody can live with it, rather than confront themselves with death, with rage, with all the expressions that somebody who’s not polite exhibits.”
4 Ibid., p. 178.
5 Chris McCormack is a writer/art critic/artist who performed in Raging Balls. He presented a live reading of the Raging Balls text in front of the projected video of his face; he did this after the instructed audience had thrown mashed paper balls at Ashery and her collaborator Owen Parry. McCormack was wearing grey shorts and a T-shirt as well as thin slip-on shoes that one might wear outdoors or indoors. He was clearly meant to look vulnerable portrayed like this amongst the audience and was dressed in this way to reference a key sentence noted within the text: “I will scrape my knees and I will fight, I will fight, you will have to drag me to the station, do you hear me? Five big guys in full armour will have to drag me, a white plucked chicken in shorts, to the station.”
6 Quote taken from Jean Fisher, Tales from the Dark Side (a monograph on Shaheen Merali), Double Agency, 2001. Fisher makes the valuable comment surrounding race and identity in an artwork by Ashery and co-creator Shaheen Merali entitled Colored Folk.
7 See Giorgio Agamben, The Man Without Content, Stanford University Press, 1999 (translated from the original 1994 text by Georgia Albert), p. 5.
8 In the performance Ashery is dressed in late 1960s attire, as the original work is based on the 1968 student riots in Paris. The artist can be seen protecting herself with art magazines such as Frieze and Artforum from an audience instructed to throw condensed paper balls “in a rage” at her and Owen Parry, a second performer.
9 See David Wojnarowicz – A Definitive History of Five or Six Years on the Lower East Side, p. 228. Jennifer Doyle’s essay ‘A Thin Line’ (p.227-231) refers to Douglas Crimp’s book entitled “ De-Moralizing Representations of AIDS.” In Melancholia and Morlism Essays on AIDS and Queer Politics, Boston: MIT Press, 2004, p.267.
文章节选：
《每个他我都有不同的记忆》
作者：史蒂芬·威尔森(Stephen Wilson)
行为艺术发展机构(Live Art Development Agency)出版，阿瑟瑞，《与男人共舞》，2009
奥里特·阿瑟瑞(Oreet Ashery)采用了不同的他我(alter egos)、虚构人物和各种人物传记来时时刻刻提醒我们多重自我的存在是通往差异的自由之路。然而，她的个人主义却超越了她所创造的人物所具有的意义。在过去的十年里，她的互动性行为表演和其他作品所表现的人物既是社会中的标准形象，也是异端。通过这些年的实践，她逐渐向观众传达了这样的信息，即他我是她艺术实践的前提。她从全球的角度着眼，独辟蹊径地创造了一系列反社会、反常规的人物，[10]更重要的是，他们呈现了真实的生活，无视艺术与生活权威的赞同。
……
2
在看到阿瑟瑞的作品《愤怒的鼓》(Angry Drum)的瞬间，观众不免会产生疑惑：这面鼓为何愤怒?除了阿瑟瑞画的鼓面，这面鼓还有一个外圈(用红白相间的纸带封贴在鼓框上)，上面写着“叙利亚制造(Made in Syria)”。鼓是不断敲打的主体或客体——难怪这面鼓愤怒了。如果观众熟悉阿瑟瑞对于政治的关注，就会通过这件作品联系到西方国家对于阿拉伯世界的认识(特别是“9·11事件”之后)。如果脱离了叙利亚的背景，我们就无法确定这面鼓的性别(gender)，因为它没有耳朵，什么都听不到。那么，愤怒是如何体现的呢?但是这面鼓的确体现了愤怒，因为观众能够强烈地体会到它的沉重负担。
《愤怒的鼓》只不过是一个道具，挂在阿瑟瑞家的一面墙上，然而也偶尔被当作艺术品来使用。我自己就是被它的愤怒的面孔所吸引的。当我们看着鼓面上的图画时，我们的目光就会变得既专注又空洞，它的单调让我们联想到自己对于愤怒以及任何其他身份的体验。这种愤怒有些抽象，我们甚至不知道它为什么而愤怒。但是在这种凝注的眼神中，你难免会忘记，这是一个存在争论的愤怒之物。在很大程度上，这面鼓根本就没有愤怒，而是巧妙地启发观众对愤怒进行思考，使其最终产生种种假定，观众承认这些假定，但是却很少有人愿意去面对。阿瑟瑞的作品关注文化、个人和政治，也关注观者对这些形态的定位。有些时候，她的艺术充满了假定和活跃的因素，以至于所谓的艺术实践的平衡被不断审视反思。以社会政治叙事作为主题并非她的首创，但是这件作品却一方面表达了文化、个人和政治等主题的共生存在，另一方面传达了一种愤怒的情绪感受。《愤怒的鼓》看上去是一幅漂亮的肖像，尽管这张面孔令人感到迷惑不解，它没有性别倾向，而且又聋又哑，但是却告诉我们有时候就应该愤怒。
3.
《愤怒的球》包括行为和录像两部分，更重要的是这件作品邀请观众的积极参与，可以说这是一次反社会的尝试。这件作品在一定程度上是向已故的艺术家戴维·沃基纳罗维兹(David Wojnarowicz)的致敬，他的行为艺术抨击了1980年代美国政府对于艾滋病问题的失误处理。在谈及他的行为艺术的时候，阿瑟瑞说：“这件作品最大限度地调动了观众与表演者之间的交换互动，因此可以说这是一次实验。”[11]阿瑟瑞被沃基纳罗维兹演说当中的愤怒、失落[12]、病态和痛苦所打动。但时隔将近30年后的今天，阿瑟瑞似乎再也找不到那种激愤的主题了，然而，她却打算找到当代的表达方式来传递这种情绪。在一次对沃基纳罗维兹的采访时，希尔维亚•罗廷格(Sylvère Lotringer)说：“愤怒不应该被浪费”。[13]
《愤怒的球》呈现了阿瑟瑞和沃基纳罗维兹的男性意识之间的协商关系。阿瑟瑞从她的立场(女性的角度)指出，愤怒的意义并不在于愤怒的行文本身，而在于其破坏性和指向性。《愤怒的球》并没有假装愤怒，也没有通过一个人物将这种情绪戏剧化(不像她的其他作品那样)，而是利用面孔、声音，以及一个男性将虚拟想象的过程进行了翻转(在录像和行为表演中出现的这名男子Chris McCormack[14]负责进行阿瑟瑞设计的演说)。沃基纳罗维兹是一位艺术家、活动家、作家和表演家，他的作品采用了照片蒙太奇、颜料、综合媒介等手段，通过科幻、新闻和环境破坏等方式表现了穷人的痛苦处境。和阿瑟瑞一样，他总是将艺术与政治结合起来，用不同的表达方式传递斗争、堕落和失落的主题。
McCormack在《愤怒的球》中的演说消解了讲演词本身的内容——在“停下来寻找”的过程中对于意义的探求。这件录像作品可以被看成包括两个部分，表演者的面孔被投射在大屏幕上，一束光照亮了这张面孔的中央部分，然后光线向两边逐渐减弱，因此左边就处在阴影之中。
在第一部分，演员扮演了一个无辜的被捕者。阿瑟瑞认为，这个人就是阿甘本(Giorgio Agamben)所说的神圣的人(Homo Sacer)，即在法律之外的流浪者，没有任何人权。受害人的漫步式的思路与“停下来寻找”的表演结合起来。演员悲伤到了极点，他所遭到的不公正的歧视和人权的丧失令我们想到了与日俱增的国家控制。这也说明当前身份政治已经从“他者性”的观念转移到了人权问题。或者用费希尔(Jean Fisher)的话说：“重要的并不是尊重差异，而是尊重生命。”[15]
录像的第二部分接续着那段愤怒的独白，但是这一次，愤怒的主体却由于挫折累累而感受不到任何真正的愤怒了，转而采用了一种“精神分裂”的方式来面对后资本主义社会的“政治艺术”或者带有政治色彩的艺术。
《愤怒的球》可以被理解为阿瑟瑞想法的集中体现、一种必然的抗议，以及个人对于体制的不断愤怒，不过更确切地说是一种艺术家的职业愤慨。就像阿甘本在《空心人》(The Man Without Content，2004)中所言：“在艺术家的观念中越来越明显的一种倾向就是要制造危险，这不仅是关于艺术家的，而且也关乎社会。”[16]一方面，阿瑟瑞基本上不亲自表演自己的行为艺术(只出现了片刻)[17]，但另一方面她又从未离开，因为这件作品塑造了一位当代艺术家的个人性和主体性。她故意选用了没有什么科技含量的手段，如单色的布景、录像的线性审美特征，以及现场表演，这些都有意地唤起了观众对于经典作品的记忆(例如布鲁斯·瑙曼)。《愤怒的球》强调了怀旧的男性的好战心理，这与当今的情况也是吻合的。这件作品的演说部分既不神秘也不清晰，正是因为作品没有达到这些目标，因此自己瓦解了自己，或者用詹妮弗·道尔(Jennifer Doyle)的话来说(作为对于道格拉斯·克利姆帕的著述的回应)是“时代堕落的个人表征”。[18]《愤怒的球》标志着阿瑟瑞的作品从先前对他我的运用转向了对于文本的运用(放入了男主人公的“言说行动”)，要想更好地理解这一点，我们就需要了解她之前的艺术作品和与身份政治有关的社会经济观念。阿瑟瑞采用了男性或者女性的身体并不仅仅是为了指涉男性、女性和家长制的历史，以及男性文化身份和与之相关的权力控制，而且也指涉在日常生活中与它们的一致与不合。
阿瑟瑞的人物表现了不同文化和社会环境中的男性身份，还有一些则表现了潜在的愤怒，这种愤怒表现在男女同体的自由之中，掩藏在一个柔弱的男人的制服之下。在对男性的身体进行利用和阉割的过程中，这些近乎“真正男性”的身体表现了探索权力毁灭的个体，同时也进入了社会重建与文化交换的其他形式。在某种意义上，阿瑟瑞是在“调侃”主流，她的新作表明了其艺术从早期那种“单纯的”动机(例如Marcus Fisher)走向了成熟。
史蒂芬·威尔森博士，自由艺术家、作家、讲师，现生活、工作于伦敦。
[1] 阿瑟瑞将自己塑造的人物命名为“Marcus Fisher”是别有用心的。“Marcus”翻译成希伯来语或者阿拉伯语意思为“阴道(cunt)先生”。“Marcus Fisher”可以拓展为“男孩Marcus”或者“年轻的Marcus”。阿瑟瑞最近还使用了真实的历史人物的名字“Sarmad the Saint”和“Shabbtai Zvi”(鹿人-在希伯来语中“Zvi”意为“鹿”)来象征神圣的表演性违法。另外还包括“David Beliberate”——这个还没有发展出来的人物强调了性别错位的混乱。以及：肥胖的农民(The Fat Farmer，在作品《中间地带》里用来剪头发的人)、“滑头的训教者”(Greasy Instructor，见影像作品《现场录像艺术的购物单》)、一个黑皮肤的男人和一个白皮肤的女人(见《Colored Folk》和Shaheen Merali)、“Sami Raah”，一个阿拉伯男人(“Raah”在希伯来文中意为“坏的”，在阿拉伯文中意为“消失”)，见《哦，耶路撒冷》和《素描肖像》，以及《手淫的兔子》(见《占领》1，2——未收入本书)。
[1] 阿瑟瑞的文章是为了行为表演和电影之夜而作，这个表演和电影的主题是反对、反抗和造反，名称为《舞台上的异议：当你愤怒的时候，生命是有意思的》，拉夫伯勒大学，2008年7月18日。
[1] 见阿甘本(编)，《戴维·基纳罗维兹——下东区5、6年的确定历史》，Semiotext(e)，2006，p 177. 戴维·基纳罗维兹死于艾滋病，在读了几篇他的访谈之后，我被他的事迹打动了。他的生活是有尊严的，也是煎熬与痛苦的。对常人而言，艺术家的生活与工作的艰辛是难以想象的，而且在垂死的过程中依然奋斗更是让人感动。然而，在1980年代的艾滋病危机中，他凭借自己仅有的关于艾滋病的历史与知识进行抗争这是可歌可泣的。在一次与罗廷格的对话中(1989年4月，纽约)他讨论了Elisabeth Kubler-Ross的著作《论死亡与垂死》。罗廷格讨论了这本书提到的死亡的五个前提阶段：拒绝、愤怒、妥协、沮丧、接受。基纳罗维兹给那些垂死中的朋友们带来“勇气”。他后来使用了“愤怒”一词，并且承认，在他被确诊为患有艾滋病(这次访谈是他被确诊三个月之后进行的)之后，他觉得他被所谓“勇气”出卖了，但更重要的是被勇气所“激怒”。基纳罗维兹和罗廷格都认为，曾经具有一些意义的“勇气”其实在填补一个沉默的深渊，即那个彬彬有礼的世界，用基纳罗维兹的话说：“一个人死得越体面，他们就越有勇气，每个人都能够带着勇气去生活，而不是去面对死亡、愤怒，以及不雅之人的种种表现。
[1] 同上，p178。
[1] Chris McCormack，作家、艺术评论家、艺术家，在行为表演《愤怒的球》中担任演员。表演过程：观众向阿瑟瑞及其合作者Owen Parry仍纸球，之后，McCormack在投射有自己面孔的墙前边宣读阿瑟瑞写的一段话。他穿着灰色的短裤和衬衫，以及便鞋(屋里屋外都能穿的那种服装)。他看起来容易被欺负，但是他说出了这个文稿中最重要的一句话：“我的膝盖擦伤了，如果你硬要带我去警察局，我要反抗，我要反抗，你听到了吗?五个全副武装的彪形大汉要拉着我这样一个手无寸铁之人到警察局。”
【编辑：张瑜】
