It’s warm and sticky; it must be time for Hazard. The biennial day out for performance artist in Manchester.
Through the mugginess, through the crowds to the area (ST Anne’s Sq) defined by A Boards and yellow Tees. My companions and I gravities towards one of the black marquees in the middle in the hopes of orientation and free badges! While we do this we bump into Top Joe a cheerful man in a hi-viz jacket who is here today to make contact we as many people as possible.
As Top Joe goes about his business it’s unclear whether he is very friendly or very lonely. No time to think as we fall into Le Bistroquet a chance for a bite to eat, but also a chance share. We each give a recipe and therefore a little about ourselves, in an oblique way.
We wonder around passing the spinning hammock boat of ICD and have a chat with Bingo Meg and Disco Jazz who are readying their spangly car boot disco. Somehow we get on board with Stephen Donnelly’s Driftmob, a socialist game of follow the leader.
Every member of the group gets to be leader and with very little inhibition everybody is soon crawling, jumping, rolling around on the floor (not me, not in my good trousers) and generally annoying shop staff. I guess there is something about group dynamics and the removing of responsibilities; mostly it’s silly and fun.
We drift off to find Antje Hildebrant and are caught by a fox (Savages, Hidden Track) the fox gives us a brief story and enrols us in his struggle against the badgers by making the territory with balloons. A little bit of whimsy there.
We manage to find Antje Hildebrant’s You Make Me Want to Lose You, which consist of two boiler suited dancers both have box covered in black and yellow hazard tape. Blindly and gracefully they move through this public space as if from an overlapping universe at a pace that is meditative. Even the lady sat next to me on the bench on her lunch break agrees remarking on how relaxing it is.
When the two are taken away, I make my way to Nicola Canavan’s Milk set within the window of an empty shop. After a few moments of preparation Nicola appears glamourous in a red evening dress and with a bouquet for a head. She takes her place on a gilded seat and takes out a breast pump and begins to milk herself.
At this point I become nervous, apprehensive about the reaction to this, will there be a extreme reaction. Reactions to similar acts have been, well mystifying. The reactions are varied some are surprised, some are offended. What they take offence at is unclear, is it the slight exposure of breast, a reaction to the vaguely mechanical nature of the breast pump. A few question whether if it’s a real person under the flowers connected to the pump.
One little girl gets very close, looking into the window with great curiosity. Curiosity (both negative and positive) seems to be the main reaction. What is it? Why would anyone do that? While not giving any answers MILK does ask those questions around the collective squeamishness regarding breastfeeding.
Is it a violation of a joint privacy? Is it the suggestion of society’s Oedipal issues? Its is an complex issues and Nicola Canavan has begun an elegant dialogue.
I leave Canavan, to join my friends who have been earning prizes with fanct footwork at the Car Boot Disco. This marks the end of my engagement with Hazard 2014, its felt brief but not unfulfilling, showing work that ranged from flippant to thoughtful.
I just hope our annoyance of shop and bank staff doesn’t affect Hazard 2016.