How to Art

How to Art is a much-needed mockery of high art performed by three virtuosic physical theatre performers. The show is a playful satire inspired by the inconceivable BS surrounding Maurizio Cattelan’s artwork ‘Comedian’, in which he duct taped a banana to a wall and called it art. It sold to a cryptocurrency tech jock for $US6.2 million in 2024. Personally, I get so damn delighted to see fringe artists responding to real life events like this. This Maurizio Cattelan debacle was so grotesque, I am stoked that these New Zealand performers chose to push against it. I love when art inspires art.

The audience walks in and we know exactly where we are. The set is a white-walled art gallery with various artworks on display, one of them being the two human size bananas that are taped to the wall. The design is clear and cohesive; pop artish. The gallery attendant ushers us in then leaves. The bananas unstick themselves from the wall and run amok in the gallery. The comedy trope of ‘what happens when the boss leaves the room’ is a wonderful, archetypal setup that will forever be enjoyable. The boss is uptight, the bananas are silly and loveable mischief makers. Classic! I feel sure that these makers have Commedia dell’arte training behind them, their wicked playfulness reminds me of two Arlecchini or zanni.

The blurb describes this show as clown however I see it as closer to a bouffon show. In the Jacques Lecoq lineage of physical theatre training the bouffon are creatures oriented towards mockery and satire. Bouffon are highly observant characters who delight in poking fun at humans. To become the bananas is a very bouffonesque writing choice. True to this style of physical comedy How to Art is puerile, non-linear and relies on extreme gestures, postures and vocal treatment. The bananas get lost in their own comedic flow of self-entertainment and whacky play.

The banana duo are to be congratulated for their masterful stage complicity and timing. They demonstrate virtuosic physicality through movement and acrobatic sequences. These performers display multiple skills by combining acting, bouffon-clowning and circus. It is so exciting to see them play. Their audience connection is palpable but safe, we are not alienated or scared because the actors work generously to build an inviting world to participate in. The audience becomes cheekily complicit in wanting to have a bit of fun revolting against the boss and broader art world. The gallery attendant plays her overbearing, uptight role very well and provides a necessary counter-mask to these hare-brained bananas.

The writing is clever. I do wonder if it could go a little further in attacking their targeted theme and I understand the choice to keep it light and accessible. We have fringe artists making a comment on the preposterous, inane, facetious art world. Particularly, referencing an artwork in which the artist himself was commenting on the preposterous, inane, facetious art world. It’s just a damn banana right? Who cares about a banana? And yet I spend one hour of my life in a room being thoroughly entertained by two damn bananas. And I spent countless hours as a child being captivated by two bananas wearing pyjamas who were chasing teddy bears down the stairs. Does the banana itself really contain such vital poetic power? Or is the power found in the human instinct toward imagination; our ability to imbue life into something; sense the anima; find little gods in everything that exists? In my humble opinion Maurizio Cattelan would love this show and I fully support it being programmed at the Venice Biennale.

Kimberley Twiner

Image by Leilani Heather