with Marcus Young

Although Marcus Young has recently been named artist-in-residence of St. Paul, MN, by the organization Public Art St. Paul, he questions his own role as an artist—as well as the term ‘art’—in his practice. Young’s work takes the form of subtle social interventionism, which he often achieves simply by acting the part of public nonconformist. Whether he’s writing fortunes that will be included in cookies at Chinese restaurants, selling “Big Ideas” for 5¢ apiece, or simply walking at a snail’s pace along busy pedestrian avenues, his work’s simple message—enjoy the little things—is uplifting. Young exchanged a series of emails with NYFA Current editor Nick Stillman to discuss people vs. objects, “strange reality,” and fortune cookies.

Marcus Young Fortune cookie for Break (Photo: Steve Hansen)

Nick Stillman: Let’s begin with Break, your current project. For this, you’ve written “fortunes” for cookies that will be served in seven different Chinese restaurants throughout the greater Twin Cities area. Instead of typical platitudes, your fortunes are poetic enigmas. Could you share a few examples?

Marcus Young: “Buy a door. Sell a door. Open a door. Close a door. Adore a door. Ignore a door.”

“Dream of a place that will never be. Dream of a happiness that will never be. Dream of a peace that will never be.”

“Wait.”

NS: By confronting unsuspecting audiences with these after-dinner riddles, are you intending to overturn their sense of what’s normal, to inject a bit of detournement into everyday life?

MY: Another fortune reads, “Everything is normal.” I guess I’m asking audiences to notice how wonderful normal is, how wonderful much of everyday life can be. It turns out a little confusion helps remind them of this.

NS: Your parents owned a Chinese restaurant in Iowa during your childhood. How did this affect your thinking when conceptualizing Break?

MY: I observed how these funny little cookies carry meaning for customers. Some burned their fortunes to make them come true. I remember customers asking for a new cookie if they didn’t like the first one. Many took those tiny slips of paper home with them. In conceptualizing the project I felt I didn’t want this precious moment of careful reading to go wasted.

Marcus Young Two performance views of Pacific Avenue (both 2005) (Left to right:) Minneapolis (Photo: Willis Bowman) Beijing (Photo: Lizi Hesling)

NS: For the performance Pacific Avenue, you’ve walked along city streets in Beijing, Minneapolis, and New York (scheduled for October, 2005) carrying an umbrella, wearing a long robe, walking extremely slowly, and smiling without speaking. In the bustling and de-personalized environments where you conduct Pacific Avenue, you’re a glaring nonconformist. Has this piece been met with mistrust? Bafflement? Envy, even?

MY: I believe the first response should be bafflement. (I’m a little puzzled by how easy it is to be a nonconformist.) For some, the next feeling is mistrust; for others, cautious delight. It’s hard to say what people’s personal reactions and thoughts are. I haven’t felt envy directed toward me. I was delighted by the man in Minneapolis who whispered “thank you” as he passed by. I also remember the woman in Beijing who tried very hard to get me to walk faster and advised me to wear more casual clothing in public. I worry most about those who choose not even to look at me.

NS: In Pacific Avenue, your mode of communication is non-verbal. For the performance And, you verbally confronted viewers with requests like, “Please touch your nose” and “Don’t watch me.” Are these gestures intended to produce an intimacy between audience and performer? The notion of intimacy between audience and performer also comes across in Pacific Avenue and The Big Idea Store, for which you rented out a storefront in Minneapolis to sell printed “ideas” that read similarly to the Break fortunes for 5¢.

Marcus Young Promotional photo for And (Photo: Dan Katzenberger)

MY: I very much like being personal and personable. If intimacy means being open, being close and quiet, and paying careful attention, then yes, I like being that way with audiences. I don’t prefer the feelings attached to being a traditional stage performer. In And, I try to make the stage and audience spaces equal, my relationship with the audience equal. In Pacific Avenue, I’m out on a stroll among my fellow city dwellers. And in The Big Idea Store, I make ideas—not just mine—affordable and available to everyone. The Big Idea Store was an installation at Intermedia Arts in Minneapolis, but one day I hope to remount it in an actual storefront.

NS: All of your work is a type of interventionism. Your actions quietly disrupt normalcy and social conformism. In many of your actions, you are an agent of communication and confrontation. Do you favor performance over more traditional visual art, and if so, is it because of its active interaction with audiences?

MY: I prefer being with people over being with objects. I know it’s naïve, but I hope being with the most "normal" person in the world is still more interesting than being with the most beautifully made object. I guess this idea is the basis for why, in general, I don’t like performances that behave like objects and why I really like objects that don’t behave like objects.

NS: Could you talk about “strange reality,” a term that you’ve nominated as potentially more appropriate than “art” for describing your work?

MY: “Strange reality” seems too straight a term for what it wants to describe, so I’m open to other ideas. Of course, I’m trying to avoid the limitations of art, and sometimes just thinking something is art limits our appreciation. Sometimes I think being without a term would be best. If someone asks, “What is that?” or, “What’s he doing?” a good reply may be, “That is like everything else.”

Marcus Young will perform Pacific Avenue in New York in October.

For more information on Marcus Young, visit:
www.aapress.com/archive/2005/websep9/h-fortunecookies.htm
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/marcusyoung/my_photos