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A review by tasmanian_bibliophile
The Museum of Modern Love by Heather Rose
4.5
‘He was not my first musician, Arky Levin. Nor my least successful. Mostly by his age potential is squandered or realised. But this is not a story of potential. It is a story of convergence.’
These first four sentences intrigued me. What followed hooked me. Arky Levin, a composer of film scores, is separated from his terminally ill wife at her request. Bereft, he is unable to compose. One day, he visits the Museum of Modern Art in New York. He intends to see the Burton exhibition but the corridor to the exhibition was crowded, and he had to leave. He went through an exit, heard a murmur from the atrium, and found himself witnessing Marina Abramović during her 3-month performance called 'The Artist is Present'. During this performance, Marina Abramović sat absolutely still for 7 hours a day on 6 days a week, while members of the public sat opposite her, gazing into her eyes.
Marina Abramović’s performance provides the backdrop to Arky Levin’s story. The story unfolds from multiple viewpoints, but it is Arky’s life that drew my focus. Who would think that silent performance art could be so inviting, offer such potential to those participating (either by watching or by sitting opposite Marina Abramović) to consider and explore the meaning of life? Not me, and yet I am drawn into the scene. Marina Abramović is both vessel and vehicle: her attentive pose invites both reflection and a form of intimacy. I step back from the scene to observe others, and I wonder.
Seven years after I first read this novel I am still wondering. I don’t need to reread the novel to capture the power of Marina Abramović’s performance, but I do need to reread it to reacquaint myself with some of the reactions of the (fictional) people who are part of the story. Or do I? I am content thinking that the lives of the fictional characters were enriched by their experience, and I imagine the same for those who attended in person: a singular connection while the world outside is banished for a period. And in that space, between disconnection and reconnection with the outside world, is an opportunity for reflection.
Yes, I will revisit this novel.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
These first four sentences intrigued me. What followed hooked me. Arky Levin, a composer of film scores, is separated from his terminally ill wife at her request. Bereft, he is unable to compose. One day, he visits the Museum of Modern Art in New York. He intends to see the Burton exhibition but the corridor to the exhibition was crowded, and he had to leave. He went through an exit, heard a murmur from the atrium, and found himself witnessing Marina Abramović during her 3-month performance called 'The Artist is Present'. During this performance, Marina Abramović sat absolutely still for 7 hours a day on 6 days a week, while members of the public sat opposite her, gazing into her eyes.
Marina Abramović’s performance provides the backdrop to Arky Levin’s story. The story unfolds from multiple viewpoints, but it is Arky’s life that drew my focus. Who would think that silent performance art could be so inviting, offer such potential to those participating (either by watching or by sitting opposite Marina Abramović) to consider and explore the meaning of life? Not me, and yet I am drawn into the scene. Marina Abramović is both vessel and vehicle: her attentive pose invites both reflection and a form of intimacy. I step back from the scene to observe others, and I wonder.
Seven years after I first read this novel I am still wondering. I don’t need to reread the novel to capture the power of Marina Abramović’s performance, but I do need to reread it to reacquaint myself with some of the reactions of the (fictional) people who are part of the story. Or do I? I am content thinking that the lives of the fictional characters were enriched by their experience, and I imagine the same for those who attended in person: a singular connection while the world outside is banished for a period. And in that space, between disconnection and reconnection with the outside world, is an opportunity for reflection.
Yes, I will revisit this novel.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith