You Were Not Just Another Visitor, You Were My Life

Photo from lousiana.channel.dk

In 2010, artist Marina Abramović held a retrospective called “The Artist is Present,” in which she sat at a table at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York for two and a half months, silently. “The Artist is Present” invited viewers to sit opposite her and engage in a silent conversation, surrounded by an audience waiting their turn.

The performance was meant to explore conversation without words – to convey everything with just the body and the face. As part of the rules, the participants were not allowed to touch Marina.

On one of those days, Marina’s past lover came to the table. His name was Ulay, and they hadn’t seen each other in 22 years.

When Ulay entered, Marina did not see him at first, as she was looking down. She looked up and barely contained the surprise on her face. A moment passed, and she smiled a sad smile. Both of their eyes gleamed with tears as he sat down.

They stared at each other for a few moments, heavy emotion filling the air. She broke her rule of no-contact and reached across the table, inviting him to grasp her hand. He did. 

Before he got up to leave the table, he leaned in and whispered, “You were not just another visitor. You were my life.”

Their Story

Marina and Ulay first met in 1975. Both of them studied and worked as artists in Amsterdam, and soon, they began making art together, focusing on themes of ego and identity. Most of their collaborations were performance art. Their work was visceral and in many cases, uncomfortable. They tested emotional strength, trust, endurance, the concept of “oneness” and vulnerability through their collective performances.

“Rest Energy” (1980) is one of their most recognizable pieces. Together, they hold both sides of a bow and arrow, with the arrow pointed directly at Marina’s chest. At any moment, Ulay holds the power to shoot – a symbol of unwavering trust. Other performances they did include “Relation in Time” (1977), in which the two tied their hair together into a ponytail and sat there for 17 hours, “Breathing In/Breathing Out” (1977-78), in which they connected their mouths with a device and plugged their noses so that they can only breathe through each others mouths, breathing into each others lungs over and over until they both passed out, and “Imponderabilia” (1977), in which they both stood nude on opposite sides of a doorway, wanting to test if people who pass through the doorway will choose to face Marina or Ulay. 

Photo from MoMA.org

In 1980, Ulay and Marina got married. In a gesture of grandeur, they had planned to walk the opposite sides of the Great Wall of China and meet in the middle as a part of a piece called “The Lovers.” The Chinese government granted them permission to do this seven years later, in 1987, after many denied visas. However, by this point, the two were separated. Instead of celebrating their marriage, they were walking to say their final goodbye. 

In the years waiting for permission from the Chinese government to complete this piece, their work became famous internationally. Stuck at two crossroads, Marina embraced the opportunities and success, while Ulay resented it. Infidelity occurred, on both sides, and their relationship crumbled. Still, they both decided to partake on the walk. 

The walk took three months and 13,170 miles. Marina had hopes and thoughts of reconciliation – not just as partners, but as artists together, feeling the weight of knowing this would be their last artistic collaboration. It was revealed that at some point in the journey, Ulay had impregnated his Chinese translator who was accompanying him. Heartbroken, she still completed the walk. 

That was the last time they saw each other. For 22 years, the pair didn’t speak or see each other. That is, until “The Artist is Present.”

They never got back together, but remained in each other’s lives on and off until Ulay’s death in 2020.

“It was very emotional. Entire life of our twelve years together went like a fast forward film. These moments of intensity were very important for me,” she said about the experience.

No matter how much time has passed – no matter the circumstances, the heartache, the ending – the feelings had never changed. Maybe as he grasped her hand, as he whispered words only meant for her — like a prayer that needed to be extinguished – it proved the love will always be there. The love you have for someone else; it might remain dormant until it gets the chance to be awake, once again.

Let @VALLEYmag know via Instagram your thoughts on this bittersweet story.

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