Olga’s self portrait was the one of the first, if not the first, performances from last week that was not necessarily long but more succinct and to the point. She only needed about  fifteen seconds to show her underlying, true identity: Russian and American. Olga used the desk and had a single paper with the American flag printed on it. With a blue marker, she drew in three blue lines between the red and white of the American flag. This gesture showed that Olga is not confined to one identity but rather two. She is equally proud to say that she is Russian and American.

Her performance could have been long-winded and elaborate, containing elements from Russian and American cultures; however, she boiled it down to something as simple as coloring in three lines in the American flag to show a different flag reminiscent of the Russian flag. Within this short time frame, though, Olga was able to draw attention immediately with the paper of the American flag. I presume everyone in the room wanted to know why she only had one paper. But with the paper and marker, she was able to convey a huge part of herself. Simplicity was key to her performance, and it worked.

The elements Olga utilized were minimal. As stated before, she used only a paper and a marker. However, if we were to look deeper in her performance, we can see that the minimalism was accompanied by the quiet background. She didn’t say anything, and nothing was needed to be said.

Watching the performance in person versus watching through the lens of a video camera wasn’t too different from each other. I was so focused on capturing the self portrait as a whole that I didn’t really see the performance in person. However, when I see the video now–on the computer screen– I see the smaller details of the room and of Olga herself. It’s actually pretty funny seeing how nervous people are in a video compared to real life. I’m sure most of our videos will reveal how nervous we really felt.  Overall, though, the project was fun, interesting, and uncomfortably opening.

Linda’s self portrait contrasted most others that we saw because it was performed in complete silence, without any written words or pictures to convey ideas to the audience. She sat down at the table with a simple piece of white paper, and without a word of explanation or even a glance at her audience, she began to work—meticulously folding the paper, creasing it, unfolding it, turning it…. A complex sequence of maneuvers that immediately absorbed her classmates. For three minutes she patiently continued folding, finally transforming her blank ordinary sheet into a tiny origami creature.

What most captured Linda’s audience was not the folding of the paper, but Linda’s attentive, delicate, and precise movements as she transformed it. Linda’s performance may have seemed like a simple (well, really complex) craft project—but it was actually a demonstration of Linda’s character. She showed herself to be modest and gentle in nature, but diligent in completing a potentially challenging task.  She showed that she immerses herself in her work, which she carries out with intent and patience, giving attention to each detail. Throughout the process, Linda worked seamlessly, without hesitation, showing a modest certainty in working towards her goal. We can think of these traits that Linda presented in folding her origami as characteristics that define her when she is working towards any goal.

Her self portrait was very successful because Linda subtly told us about who she is by allowing us to share her minutes of silent focus.  These still moments that enveloped the class, enthralled by Linda’s meticulous folding and humble performance, let us better understand Linda. It’s not what she was doing, but how she did it that captured everyone’s attention.

Linda’s performance was minimalist and understated rather than dramatic, but I think it really spoke to who she is. Watching her performance, even through the camera, was much different from performing because I became a part of her energy. Everyone in the room fell into a state of calm and concentration, because that was the environment that Linda created. As a performer, you are the one creating the setting for everyone else, and so going up on the stage myself was like standing on a blank slate. It was up to me to set the mood for the audience.

My partner is Jana Hitgano. In her performance, she wrote the words, “Sometimes when words aren’t enough…” on the board. She, then, came forward to take a chair back against the wall with a large Polaroid camera in her hand. She stood on the chair and tried to take a picture of the whole class. She didn’t seem to get everyone to fit in so she got off the chair and repositioned it in the corner of the room. She still didn’t seem to be satisfied and thus, repositioned the chair one last time. When she was just about ready, she asked everyone to come closer with a hand gesture and then flashed the camera. At the end, she said, “That’s me” with a big smile on her face.

Jana’s performance was very insightful and entertaining. She used audience participation to make her self-portrait not just about her but everyone in the room. It displayed her friendly personality and desire to shine a spotlight on others. Having interviewed Jana, I know that she wants to explore photography while in college. Her many attempts at taking the picture really showed her persistence and determination to perfecting her photography skills. She took the picture not just by standing on the floor but on a chair, giving us a new viewpoint to think about.  Her smile was the constant element in the performance and it showed her positive outlook on life. The performance was great and really showcased a part of her personality to the class. Her concluding words of “That’s me” were a perfect ending.

When watching the performance over, I realized how different it feels to watch the performance without the video recorder in front of me. My main focus while watching Jana was making sure I capture her movements within the screen and zooming in at the right moments. When I watched it over, I concentrated on the various aspects of the performance and got to fully appreciate her portrait.

Erica decided to use her physical responses to stress and frustration as main shapers of her performance’ tone. Frenetically writing on her notebook, she allowed us to peek into her head and get a taste of her internal anxiety about starting a new life in college and finding herself lost in a world she’s not familiar with. The questions she writes down and then shows to the audience, by opening her notebook to us as if she wanted to emphasize that she is really opening herself to us, are all reflections of the state of doubt and insecurity she found herself in. “What is going on?” “Where is my next class?” when she probably really wants to say “What am I doing in this unfamiliar place?”. Despite all of this confusion in her head, she still goes on through the day, class by class, notebook page by notebook page.

At last, a smile and a sigh of happiness: she’s finally home. As we glance at the last notebook page she will show to the audience, as if to make clear that once at home she will retire in her private relaxing mind state, Erica takes out all of her books, or maybe she is really getting rid of all the stressors she had in her mind, weighting on her shoulders throughout the day. She is now ready to just sit back and listen to some music, but she is faced with one last challenge: untangling her headphones. Unplanned, but incredibly fitting in, this event resonates right away with the audience and gives the whole performance a final touch of genuinity.

So, something that really worked was the headphones getting tangled, which were probably one of the strongest elements of the whole self-portrait. It’s amazing how something so little and unexpected had the ability to connect Erica and the audience. Something else that really worked was her concluding out-loud exclamation: “Finally home!”, which were also the first time we heard her voice throughout the whole scene (besides when the unplanned headphones tangling happened); it really got the audience the feeling that she is the most comfortable at home, while everywhere else she is living-in-my-head-Erica.

I found filming and watching the performance live not too challenging, as I am used to filming things all the time. I still found some difficulties in keeping a balance between watching and filming, and trying to zoom in at the right moment, but it wasn’t challenging overall.

Here some more screenshots from Erica’s self-portrait:

Sara Camnasio’s self-portrait performance was one of cultural exploration and discovery, marked by humor and personal details. Sara portrayed the cultural shift in her life from Italy to New York through food, pictures and language. Starting with a fast-paced and somewhat exasperated-but-loving conversation with family in fluent Italian, set against the rolling hills of Italy, Sara crafted a picture of her life before she came to America. Despite it being in a foreign language, her conversation drew the audience in as the conversation we’ve all had with family. “Yes, yes I’m fine, Mom,” punctuated with a short and succint “Ciao, Ciao, Ciao” as though her relative wouldn’t get off the phone.

Hanging up, she spent some time revealing facets of her personality that she couldn’t live without; Sara shoved ring after ring onto her fingers, as if her journey couldn’t be made without them. She then ate some pasta to emphasize the mainstay of her culture. Finally, she bridged the gap between her two worlds on opposite sides of the room by literally jumping across it, her computer telling us that it was 2009, the year of her immigration to America. Arriving here she sighed contentedly before revealing a picture of Central Park, a far cry from the rolling hills of Italy. However, these two images connected the audience in their natural quality. Though the city is obviously a very different environment for Sara, she sees the role Nature has to play in both settings.

Settling down in New York, Sara picked up an American flag and surveyed it contentedly before smiling and covering herself in it, cloaking herself in her new American identity. However, her rings remain as a symbol of the parts of her personality that won’t change despite her cultural shift. She looked at her museum pass and exclaimed how cool it is before putting it on and opening herself up to all the cultural opportunities that New York has to offer. She babbled excitedly into her phone to her friends, a scene reminiscent of her phone call with her relative in Italy, whilst eating some humorous, stereotypical American food: McDonald’s. The parallel of this scene to the scene in Italy bridges the gap between the life Sara lived in Italy and the one she now lives in New York; it is essentially the same picture, the same language, but a different setting.

Even though I was filming it, I tried hard to watch it through my own eyes for the full perspective. As an audience member, I couldn’t help but relate to her fashion fetishes, her exasperation with her family, and her joy to be in a new culture. With her self portrait, Sara crossed the barrier of culture not only in her own life, but in the audience’s mind. She created a universal language for the audience through themes such as family, food and personality which are mainstays in everyone’s life, no matter their background. In a land where everything is different for her, Sara has managed to convey exactly what we all share, no matter our differences. Her self portrait is a portrait of New York; though the city is a medley of many peoples from many cultures, at the end of the day we are a cohesive body of citizens with a unique identity as “New Yorkers” who all share in the same “language” of the city.