A cellophane sac is strewn across the corner of the stage. Air is pumped into it as a pulsating figure squirms and quivers, its movements growing more tense, more erratic until a body reveals itself from under the taught plastic. I’m struggling to make sense of what is happening before me, it’s like a scene from Doctor Who. But instead of being amongst a crowd of futuristic spectators on an alien ship, I’m sat in a 19th century chapel within a crowd of hipsters who have all spilled out from the streets of East London. It’s all rather surreal.
Reeves. Courtesy the artist, Serpentine and EAF.
On 21st May at Clapton’s Round Chapel, a large group of artworld folk gathered together to witness ex-GB Gymnast and contemporary performance artist Lewis Walker present their brand new Serpentine and Edinburgh Art Festival commission, Bornsick. The title being a portmanteau outlines explicitly what the show is all about, Walker believes that we all inherit illness. ‘Illness’ in this context is the political and cultural order that is automatically assigned to us beyond our control, Bornsick explores the struggle of meeting these obligations as someone whose identity exists on the margins. For the next 50 minutes we are taken through a battle for freedom as Walker’s character grapples with trying to conform, and displays the extreme toll that this can have on one’s mental and physical health.
Reeves. Courtesy the artist, Serpentine and EAF.
Reeves. Courtesy the artist, Serpentine and EAF.
There are bouts of repetition where Walker incorporates body rolls, somersaults, handstands and more akin to the floor routines we may have seen performed at the Olympics. The word routine is crucial here as the performance piece satirises the concept. Routine is about structure, which can be useful for many, but instead Walker explores the limitations and struggles of being stuck within such confined boundaries. By centering around the theme of gym, apparent through the gym mat and chalk that is strewn across the stage, Bornsick has formulated the perfect setting to explore the lengths that we may push ourselves to before we break. In Walker’s case this is both literally as a gymnast and artist, and in the world that Bornsick creates, their character explores the reality of inhabiting a queer body forced to fit the restrictive mold of a homophobic, patriarchal and capitalist society.
As the performance progresses we all watch, hiding behind our hands as Walker stretches their body to the limit. Before our very eyes Walker transforms into a four legged creature that scuttles around all four sides of the gym floor. Before we know it their body is bolt upright, upside down as they walk the entire floor on their hands. Twenty somersaults take place on one spot, all counted by a narrator so we aren’t to forget the magnitude of what is happening before us. Each act takes a considerable chunk of time. They are painfully slow for Walker to complete and painfully slow for us to watch, and as they continue over and over we are reminded of the discomfort and struggle that comes with the unrelenting quest for perfection.
Perhaps the most poignant moment of Bornsick is when the music restarts, and we are taken from the silence that highlights the scrapes and slapping of skin on chalk and hands on body to the heady beat of Underworld’s Born Slippy. At this point Walker has put on more and more clothes, our focus is moved from viewing them as a vulnerable creature to a human body whose personality blossoms with each new gesture. The movements are different here, their body pulses, fists pump, feet stamp, they dance. In an instance performance dissolves from the physical location of a church, to the imagined setting of a sweaty rave.
Setting this liberational sequence within the surrounds of a rave could not be more fitting. As independent nightlife becomes increasingly threatened by corporate giants and gentrification, and the typical working day requires a regimented form of living, the grassroots rave acts as a radical alternative where bodies are free and community is formed. Walker may be alone on stage, but for a short moment we do not feel they are lonely, instead we transform from feeling like onlookers and instead embrace Walker’s new found energy. With each jolt they are closer to being free.
In an era where everything has market value – houses, art, trainers, even olive oil – the intangibility of a performance art piece such as Bornsick makes it even more special. Walker presents a work of art that is both deeply soulful and relatable. Without regurgitating too many buzzwords, within this quick performance we were hit with ideas around the fordist structure of the workplace, the neoliberal quest for perfection, queer identity politics and so much more. It was both thought provoking and academic but still incredibly enjoyable to watch. I’ll never be able to look at a painting again out of fear of boredom. I can’t see how any piece of art will compete with this for some time to come.
Walker will be taking Bornsick to Edinburgh Art Festival on 23rd August at FirstStage Studios. I implore you to see it.
