SANATORIUM at the Whitechapel Gallery - 10-07-13
Turning up at 4.15pm at the gold leafed gallery outside Aldgate East tube, two helpers in white lab coats had four 'sessions' still on offer at the 5pm time slot. Two of them were offered as group therapy type affairs,thinking of which afterwards made my blood run cold; it sounded more like 21st century water torture than fun, or art.
So I opted for what sounded like the easy option - goodoo doll! If you don't book a slot for your chosen therapy in advance you have to wait - eventually I was accompanied by a female "lab technician" type, who took me into the small room for human guinea pigs.
I was then given a ten-inch tall fabric doll, [see photo] onto which i was asked to stick five objects, selected from a smorgasbord of mini objects. Tiny mirrors, gold coloured plastic jewelery, guitars, horseshoes, plant pots, etc. Why you chose them, where you put them, how you stuck them on your doll, all was up to you.
Who you want your doll to benefit by your actions was also up to you, as was whether you wanted to talk about it or not.
It seemed churlish in the extreme not to chat while you were going through the process. I felt like I revealed way too much, forming the false impression I needed to dredge up my darkest secrets.
When I explained the symbolism of the guitar - well it meant the liberation of my creative energy - I was told that everyone is an artist!
"Yes " I said, "but some artists are better than others !"
We , the lab tech and I, fell into a lively debate on whether today's world, awash with self proclaimed artists creating on every conceivable platform, is a good thing or not. And why we need more editorial criticism than ever.
I started to wonder whether this was part of the Goodoo Doll process or just a chat for my technician to enliven a day spent endlessly explaining the same things 100 times, so I returned us to the task in hand.
"What happens to it now ?"
"Well..." she seemed slightly nervous. " You can keep it, but it costs £5."
"Err, got no money on me" I honest guv'ed.
"Oh, you can leave it here"
"What happens to it?"
"It will go on display eventually"
"Oh, that's much better " I gushed, relieved to be finally back on terra firma, dealing with the reality of feeling for coins in my pocket as opposed to reaching for philosophical justification for putting a mirror on my doll's head. The 20 minutes of near excruciating "therapy" I had endured was at an end.
But was I to blame for my miserable mental state? Why not stomp on it from the get go, if you don't like it? Why go at all?
Well, it might have been life changingly brilliant. But once you've seen the pic of my completed Goodoo doll,the one in the middle, you might think otherwise.
The other options are Vaccine Against Violence involving blowing up a balloon and drawing the face of the person's who has most hurt you on it, then using it as a punchbag. Cityleaks, confessing a secret in a group setting; Philosophical Casino using dice to answer questions linked to various ancient and modern belief systems; Mudras to do with gestures and brain research; and the most complicated one which can take up to 45 minutes, the Museum of Hypothetical Lifetimes in which you work on a scale model of an imaginary museum.
Remember, you don't need to have problems to take part in this art project, but you might emerge onto Whitechapel High Street with some as a result of venturing inside! Perhaps that's the whole idea.
