candle performance.
gabrielle narcisse. march 13th, 2024 - march 15th, 2024
“It’s not just a candle.” I said to my friend through sobs, as she held me close on a warm afternoon in central park. my hands were caked in hardened wax was my face covered in tears.
it’s not just a candle.
when i was 18, a version of me died.
the version of me that had any sense of innocence. he took that from me. and since then there have been other instances during my young adulthood that have traumatized me again and again. i am forced to carry this with me 24/7. in big moments i’ve watched it eat me. now i often leave it all unnoticed, unrecognized, uncared for– trapped in a cocoon of numbness resting inside my central nervous system; in the hidden folds of my brain. my therapist says when i tell my stories, i speak as if they happened to another person.
this candle served as a memorial to my young unadulterated self. a girl that wasn’t carrying so many burdens. this candle is a memorial to an adulthood i’ve never known. an adulthood that isn’t ridiculed with constant pain.
by holding this candle i was forced to reckon with my pain. it was impossible for me to ignore. it made every daily action i took a bit more difficult and even in still, mundane, or restful moments – it was lit up right in the palm of my left hand.
the candle was never interrogated by the public. the only people who cared to ask about the candle were via social media. although people clearly took note each day I went out with it, no one dared to ask why I was holding it. except a woman last night who asked if she could light her cigarette with it.
the way trauma lingers is like candle performance:
- quiet
- impossible to ignore
- messy
- drips everywhere
- shines brightest in the dark
- after awhile, it feels completely normal
- can go noticed or unnoticed by others
- no one can take it out of my hands
- it’s strangely beautiful
It is very difficult to clean up a mess when you still are grasping the mess maker. Everywhere I look I’m still finding some of the mess I made. The closer it drew to midnight, I realized I didn’t want to end the performance yet. I wasn’t ready to let go.
excerpt from 11 minute performance: ‘Til Death Do Us Part’ (2022)
Performed in my mother’s wedding dress with my parent’s wedding vhs playing throughout.
video, production design, and performance by me.
performed - 2021
edited in isadora and adobe premiere
images captured on iphone & sourced from google maps
Graduation Performance (6:32), May 2024, NYU Gallatin Bathroom
On my last day of school, in my last class: ‘Performance Art as a Radical Outsider’ instructed by Professor Ayanna Evans, I performed my final performance and thus my exit from the instution. As I reflected upon both my experiences on my experience regarding the past four years I dealt with sickening feelings and remembrance of the tumultuous rises and falls as a student with many adversities, challenges, and obstacles. I remembered the shame and guilt I felt regarding being dysfunctional in my daily life (including difficulties with eating) and how hard I pushed myself through academia. Then I began to question: was it worth it? Was the repeated sacrifice of my health and wellbeing worth this degree? And what is a degree worth?
As I moved closer to graduation I also dealt with the natural stressors and anxieties the oncoming reality of adulthood moves one to face. Questions as: What comes next? Do iIknow my true path? How will ensure security? How will I take care of myself when I’ve continuosly struggled for so long?
I decided to use a scene and action that connotes shame, guilt, and disgust– eating in the bathroom. Not only eating, but binge eating. This scene connotes the same feelings I was reflecting upon: past, present, and future. The cold spaghetti, is an offputting imagery, it appears almost as if I’m eating my own intestines. Instead of rejecting the shame and guilt of my complex emotions I overly embraced vulnerability and disgust, putting it on display for the audience.
The performance also deals with blatant irony in costume and staging: I wore the pink sparkly gown I wore on my 21st birthday, a graduation cap, a shiny sash that reads “sexiest costume alive”, and a sign reading “Congrats Grad”.
- Upon actual graduation ceremonies and celebrations, I was more filled with pride and joy in how I endured and my significant accomplishments despite adversity. However, these themes are still incredibly relevant in my post graduate life.