Tony Jones
INT. Detroit – Sunrise: Day 10
6:12am: I was awoken by the noise of sirens. The sound appeared to be coming from several blocks away. I’ve noticed that sirens are a regular facet of the soundscape. Due to the operation of the nearby hospital, I am not surprised by the presence of sirens. The sound actually sends me into a dreamlike state. With each instance, I realize that there is a new narrative at play. I begin to wonder what human circumstance is attached to the sound. What is the severity of this emergency and how will it affect members of the passenger’s immediate family?
7:58am: Breakfast was eaten. I ate an English muffin and baked beans. This may be the last time I get to eat bread. Slight discolorations are beginning to appear on most of my bread products. The cans from the beans are starting to pile up. I’m thinking of doing something sculptural with them.
8:34am: Randy didn’t make it back to the house last night. According to his account, there are four different sites where he maintains residence. Around this time, I heard a voice projecting from outside. On the front porch, a disheveled looking man was calling for Randy. He continued calling until I was able to respond. I stuck my head out of an upstairs window and the following conversation transpired:
Man: Randy? Randy? Come on Randy! You home?
Me: Randy’s not here.
Man: Who the fuck are you?
Me: I’m Tony.
Man: Who the fuck is Tony?
Me: I’m Tony. I’m an artist.
Man: What about Randy?
Me: Randy hasn’t been here for days. I don’t know where he is.
Man: Does Randy know you’re staying here?
Me: Of course. I’ve met Randy. He knows I’m here.
Man: Does Randy know why you’re staying here?
Me: Yes, he does.
Man: Why are you staying here?
Me: I’m performing.
Man: Performing?
Me: I’m performing…I’m making art.
Man: Randy doesn’t like performing. He don’t like art neither! (Silence)
Alright, tell Randy that Webb came to see him.
9:44am: I sat out on the porch. During this time, I heard the passing of three separate sirens.
Detroit proved to be an ideal studio space. As a humble unknown artist, I enjoyed the opportunities and energy that the city provided. For the first time in my career, I felt a harmony between Detroit’s plight in relation to my own struggles as an artist. I decided to expand my works in a bolder direction.
I was interested in completing a performative work that evolved over the course of a year. Taking a cue from the One-Year Performances of Tehching Hsieh, I began a series titled INTERIOR/EXTERIOR-Detroit. This series would take place in two phases. During the first phase, titled INT. Detroit – Sunrise, I chose an abandoned building within the city of Detroit. For the period of one month I maintained residence within the interior space. For the next phase, titled EXT. Detroit – Sunset, I did not enter any sort of interior or enclosed space. The only condition for the performance required that I remain within the demarcated limits of the city. Over this period, I managed to transform Detroit (both inside and out) into a vibrant and functioning studio space.
As with my other Detroit works, INTERIOR/EXTERIOR explored the concept of human presence. By definition, the city is a setting that requires occupancy. Human corporality, first and foremost, is a fundamental necessity for the urban landscape. In addition, housing, retail spaces, parks, and transportation systems act as additional city-based essentials. However, you never arrive at these secondary elements without the initial presence of people.
One of my fascinations with Detroit is inspired by the absence of people. At one point, Detroit was the fourth largest city in the United States. Nonetheless, with each passing decade, the residents continued to flee the cityscape. There is something to be said about the allure of any specific city. There are magnetic components, within a city space, that compel humans to inhabit these boundaries. When did the magnetism of Detroit begin to diminish? What is the source of this magnetism? How can a community guarantee the persistence of urban allure? People? Business? Culture? Arts? Entertainment?
This is a work of presence embedded within absence! If Detroit has lost its urban allure, would it be possible for an artist to generate an impression of the magnetic? Furthermore, do artists have a responsibility to manufacture this aura of corporal presence? In order to explore this possibility, I maintained occupancy in an abandoned building for the period of one month. I did not leave the space at any point during the performance. Also, I did not make use of any objects that established domestic comfort (Television, Radio, etc). The presence of the artist was essential. How could one define a space as abandoned if it remained continuously occupied?
During my time inside the house, I made friends with a man named Randy. Although most of my time within the house was spent in solitude, he proved to be a gracious host and was generally interested in hearing about my calling as an artist. Randy shared his presence and also provided a comprehensive history of his Detroit experience. It was no mystery to learn that his fortunes coincided with those of the city. In contrast, the many conversations that we shared were proof of urban magnetism. For the duration of the performance there existed two people, within an inhabitable domicile, sharing life experience. Such is the functional microcosm of a nascent city space.
Behold the potential of the unknown artist!