(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
By Gitte Sætre.
This fall, I traveled with the independent art producer group Transnational Art Production (TrAP) to the London Arms Fair to do a performance. The woman in my performances draws attention to events in her own time, with a deep desire to understand. She represents the caregiver, one who chooses to leave home and engage in civil disobedience through artistic activism. Due to the Norwegian nationality of the woman and European historical affiliation, the project also looks at the role of the helper: What role do we have, what does the aid entail, and what does it entail?
Prepared for the work we created during the arms fair, started in April this year, when the world saw huge crowds leave war-torn countries. Now, distant countries like Norway can sense the conflicts in Africa and the Middle East. Wars we have been involved in, but not properly addressed.
Closed doors. The woman in my performances wonders about this. She looks at the impact nations have had, and still have. Ten video performances in the form of various interventions have been produced so far, and this time it is perceived as urgently relevant in view of the six million registered refugees who move away from the conflict areas, where weapons and other munitions were purchased from this fair for two years ago. Since May this year, we have been working to get into the arms fair. Ny Tid assisted us with a signed document stating that we worked as journalists for the newspaper, but our application for accreditation was rejected. In July, the TrAP organizers called several times, and in the end we were informed that our application was classified as high security. In other words, some Google searches had placed us on the list of people they didn't want to represent. A leftist newspaper and a political artist were classified as high security. We were told that only defense journalists were allowed this year, due to a world situation with escalating dangers of terror. When we were given the name of the person who had processed my application, a quick google search could tell us that it was the US intelligence that had been assigned the task of weeding out possible terrorism of all kinds. When we read the fair's safety rules, we realized that it was still possible to get on the guest list of exhibitors, so we wrote an email to CEO Walter Qvam of Kongsberg Defense. There was no reply from him, but after a couple of phones and emails we got into a dialogue with the communications manager. However, there were some courtesy phrases.
We were far from the only ones who did not have access to the weapons fair this year. Amnesty International's own human rights experts were also exiled. Every year, Amnesty tends to carry out a check on the fair, and every year they find illegal equipment promoted. This year they did not have the opportunity to know or report on what is being sold from the 1500 exhibitors distributed in 121 countries. Amnesty even says that the weapons fair is likely to be afraid of violating regulations. In 2009, the same Amnesty representative was officially invited to the same event to give a speech on strengthening gun control regulations. This year, on the other hand, countries such as Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Pakistan received treatment that was characterized by red runners. According to The Independent newspaper, the weapons industry is currently characterized by poorer times, since defense budgets are cut in the West. Failing budgets in Europe are leading suppliers to focus on more lucrative markets in Asia and the Middle East. If the industry is to continue to grow, it must look for sales in new countries that will expand their defense budgets. Is this one of the reasons why Amnesty was not wanted this year?
The man who pulls the woman in the arm is overlooked, and surprisingly she manages to pee again.
Fear. Our film team was stopped ten meters after we boarded the train in London. Fences were set up as far away from the building as 250 meters – the exhibitors would not hear the whole of England screaming. We were persuaded by a taxi driver to smuggle us into the hotel which was next door to the fair. The driver liked the idea that we were activists and managed to talk through two checkpoints. It was with horror mixed we landed in the hotel's deep reception chairs, which was just off the entrance that went straight into the booth area.
We quietly strolled out and set up camera. The woman entered her performance trance. But it wasn't many minutes before we stood outside the fence again. We went back into position, this time one meter from the driveway. This day the woman is dressed in white, barefoot and with both legs well placed on the ground. She has her eyes closed, but her head is high. She breathes in slowly through her nose and out of her mouth as slowly as she meditates on what's going on. She stands there long, long enough that those around her are affected by her presence. When she feels that the situation is established with those who look in real-time and later as a video work, the woman does a quiet act, like washing. Or like here at the weapons fair, where she pauses. She does so for fear of what is happening inside the exhibition grounds and what will happen when war materials are put to use. The ritual to clean reflects on clearing and arranging, erasing guilt, and exercising an attentive look. When it comes to peeing, it is about a bodily reaction – which happens automatically when people lose control and feel an extreme feeling of fear. It is the body's last defense when you have nothing to do with it. Then she stands there waiting for what happens. She is determined. She is at work, so she cannot be afflicted by the napping of her arm and her voice, as British courtesy asks: Ma'm, ma'm. Ma'm! The man who pulls the woman in the arm is overlooked, and surprisingly she manages to pee again. The man becomes insecure and says desperately to himself several times: What is going on here? What is going on here? What is going on here? Another man's voice comes into the picture. He urgently orders that no one should touch the woman. He screams several times: Close all gates! You can hear the sound of moving metal. And the woman thinks that civil disobedience and artistic activism fits her temper. She's come home.
Silent. My producer Brynjar Bjerkem is told to remove the woman. As they stroll to the next location, they wonder if the onlookers think the woman is a suicide bomber. On the way up to the other protesters' tent area, they meet two Tibetan monks playing monotonously on their own tambourine-like drum. The woman stands up to them, and she can see that the guard is no longer the weapons men's own men – now the London police are in charge of the area. The woman asks the monks if they want to join her in a ring around the police. They do not stop drumming, but respond quietly that they do not demonstrate, they are here to pray. The woman finds security and increased strength in the monks, and walks as slowly as she can around and around until 17 o'clock and the fair closes for the day. She gets on the train with the exhibitors, and gets a seat next to American Lockheed Martin and Norwegian Nammo. She gets off the train at Whitechapel and we decide to go back the next day.
Graffiti activist Banksy has also created art about the fair, but it doesn't seem that many people care or see the connection between Syrian refugees and the weapons fair taking place in the heart of London. Oddly enough, considering that the same day is written about Putin's arming of Assad's forces and the indenture of Russian soldiers. Nor does it cause any of the Norwegian newspapers to write about this arena, where Norway, Saudi Arabia, Israel, Russia, USA, Korea with countless more nations are out shopping.
Sætre is an artist and activist. gittesatre@gmail.com
