Conversation with Democracy by Nikusha (Nikoloz) Chkaidze
This essay was written as a reflection of the writer’s participation in the Making of the New Silk Roads summit hosted by Arthub in Bangkok.
The origin for this performance was the November 2007 demonstrations in Tbilisi. These were the first political demonstrations where Georgia’s ‘democratic’ government used water cannons against protestors. The water cannons and the trucks on which they were mounted had both been imported from European Union. The government had therefore introduced, along with the institutions and practices of western democracy, its methods of repression as well.
The setting for the performance was a courtyard outside the main entrance to Bangkok University, which was open air with a concrete floor. The audience watched from the edges of the yard. The main prop used in the performance was a hose connected to the water mains. The Dutch artist Onno Dirker participated by holding the hose and directing the jet of water.
The performance began with Onno and I standing about 30 metres apart. I started to walk towards him as if to talk to him. At this point he turned on the hose and directed it at me. The power of the jet of water was strong enough to prevent me from getting any closer.
Onno held the hose on me, changing the part of my body it was aimed at: sometimes he directed it at my chest, sometimes at my legs, sometimes my head. The effect was both disorientating and extremely painful. The force of the water battered my body; when directed at my chest, I found it difficult to breathe.
While it was impossible to get nearer Onno, it was also very hard to keep my balance. At one point I slipped and fell, and the pressure of the water carried me back across the concrete floor. Onno then lost control of the hose, which began to thrash about in his hands. However, by the time I managed to get back on my feet again, he had regained control and I was unable to take advantage of this.
I continued trying to walk towards Onno against the jet of water. Still unable to make any progress, I eventually found myself completely exhausted. At this point I simply lay down. Onno then turned off the hose, and the performance concluded.
Exchanging opinions, sharing views about life, getting to know each other better, learning about what excites and what troubles us, of showing solidarity, and of getting a wider picture of the world – what might be a first step towards this? Perhaps taking risks. Taking the risk, for example, of leaving our false, private paradises, and assuming some responsibility for what’s going on outside them; taking the risk of at least thinking about human potential, and of asking whether we really are in solidarity with each other; and taking the risk of showing solidarity, if we are not.
The natural resistance offered by the water is here used as a means of enforcing inertia and stasis, of resisting risk itself. It is aimed against the risk of imagining something different, of refusing to be burdened with the past. I believe that today the only alternative left us to be to be absolutely different.
Throughout the performance, the audience watched passively. When it concluded, several people immediately approached to ask if I was all right and help me up.
It is very difficult to describe the most memorable event from the symposium: there were so many. In a way, the symposium itself was the most memorable event for me.
The performance is conceived as part of a series aimed at trying to find new perspectives on democracy. In it, I will try to pose the question of where I can stand as an artist in this context.
In retrospect I feel the performance could have been done better. But I’m glad I did it, and in particular that I had the chance to do it in Thailand, a “parallel reality” that left made a big impression on me
