Endurance artist puts body on the line for social justice

Naked, confined and slowly crushed by sand – Cuban artist Carlos Martiel’s Dark Mofo performance aims to expose the violence inflicted on marginalised communities. Warning: Graphic content.

Carlos Martiel performing Monumento II at the Guggenhein in New York.

Endurance artist Carlos Martiel’s performances are not for everyone. He has had skin removed, stitched clothing to himself and pierced himself with nations’ flags in the name of his art.

At Dark Mofo, Cuban-born Martiel’s latest work Custody will see him imprisoned in a glass hourglass structure, naked, as sand slowly rises around him, crushing him, to bring to light police brutality. Also playing at the festival will be a film of his performance, titled Cuerpo, which saw him hung from a noose while volunteers took turns holding him up to save him from strangulation.

It is distressing, bold and loud work. The artist’s message is clear: more must be done to end the ongoing oppression of people of colour.

“Custody reflects on the black and Indigenous bodies that are oppressed and die in custody by the police and immigration security,” he tells ­Review. “This isn’t a problem from today or a year or a decade ago; it’s a problem that has been going on for centuries and needs real attention and a solution.

“We live in a very unjust society that always oppresses the same bodies: Black people, Indigenous people, women, and sexually diverse bodies. History repeats itself over and over again. In a way, my work seeks to transmit knowledge and accomplish poetic justice to the social and political injustice we live in.”

What does he think when the sand rises around him? Martiel says it is essential to enter a “state of deep concentration” before his performance. “Otherwise, I won’t be able to stay locked up for two hours performing it. That’s a question to ask after the piece is over.”

Martiel’s Dark Mofo works, he says, are conceived and performed in the context of necropolitics, which refers to how political power informs who lives and who dies.

“Specifically, police brutality, incarceration, and death in the custody of racialised bodies, including Australian Aboriginals,” he says.

Carlos Martiel performing Tierra de nadie in Paris. Picture: Supplied

The work Cuerpo, which was filmed in Los Angeles, was inspired by Martiel’s reading of a collection of postcards showing pictures of public lynchings in the US.

“Although black people were the primary victims of lynchings, some white people were lynched for helping black people or for opposing the practice,” Martiel says.

“Immigrants from Mexico, China, Australia and other countries were also lynched. I couldn’t put into words everything I thought and felt during the development of the work; it was a very profound and intense experience for me.”

After the performance, when he could finally rest, Martiel cried for 20 minutes: “That had never happened to me before.”

Yet, despite the inherent gloom of his bruising works, Martiel’s decision to have volunteers hold him up was an expression of hope, he says.

“I was interested in capturing the inverse and offering a more humane and supportive view of humanity since,” he says.

“Without the presence of the volunteers who participated, I would have suffocated.”

Dark Mofo, the Tasmanian midwinter festival at which boundary-pushing is the bare minimum, is the optimal space for Martiel’s Australian debut.

“I find it very attractive and exciting to present my work in Australia in the context of a festival as spectacular as Dark Mofo,” he says.

“The people who organise the festival respect and understand my work, making the whole process pleasant.”

Carlos Martiel’s Custody is being performed on June 14 at 7.30pm to 9.30pm at City Hall. Cuerpo is showing from 4pm-10pm on June 14-15 at The Old Bank.