YAFIT TARANTO

FUN FATALE AND OTHER AGENTS OF CHANGE FROM VJ-ING TO CINEMA AND OUT OF THE CINEMA AGAIN

Yafit Taranto works with video material ripped from personal archives, television, films - weaving a tapestry of images, sounds and stories to reflect upon society. Her work revolves around personal forms of subversion and individual emancipation from the dominant power structures in society.

She meets with the spectator in the context of expanded cinema and performance. Her background in VJ-ing and volunteer work at elderly homes are now merged into a new practice in which she facilitates transformational processes.

She exhibited her work in the Van Gogh Museum, the Jewish Historical Museum, Frascati Theater and many other festivals, theatres and cultural events.

Yafit Taranto is part of WIP (Work in Progress), a collective of multimedia makers such as artist and audio designer Yehudit Mizrachi and the choreographer and poet Branka Zgonjanin.

www.yafittaranto.com

We are all connected by rarely visible, transparent silver strings. You can catch a glimpse of this web, mostly on sunny days. I have seen it myself, but only for a fraction of a second when I looked from the right angle. Those strings bind us together like a butterfly flapping its wings, affecting a storm in some faraway place.

As a VJ, I was sewing images during long nights. I rearranged stolen moving images I ripped from my favourite films and TV shows and stitched them to the rhythm of the music. I wove a tapestry from visuals that were not meant to belong to each other, projecting this collage live in a club setting.

When I came across the phenomenon of vidding I recognized a method of appropriation and self-empowerment that inspired my research

“Vidding is an art form that happens through editing - a field historically open to women, as it was thought to be related to sewing. In the case of vidding, editing is not just about bringing images together; it is also about taking mass-media images apart. A vidder learns to watch television and movies fetishistically, for parts; to look for patterns against the flow of narrative structure; to slice desired images out of the larger whole”.

An Editing Room of One’s Own: Vidding as Women’s Work - Francesca Coppa, 124 Camera Obscura 26:2 (#77), Duke University Press

Just like a generation of female vidders before me, I edit existing material to create new narratives and more specifically I want to reveal the hidden constructions of society by repositioning and juxtaposing images.

During my years as a VJ I worked in isolation, I hardly had any contact with the DJ or the public at the club. My VJ station was on a balcony above the dance hall, away from the dancing crowd. I decided to leave the nightlife in favour of the daytime, so I could finally encounter other makers, the spectator and the world.

During my Master’s research, I investigated my working conditions and process. What do I daily need as an artist to flourish? My previous working conditions as a VJ were rather radical: I was gathering materials on my own, and then later, I would operate at night, equally alone. What are the working conditions I want to design for myself in my new practice?

‘Working conditions’ are important components of my research. From my experience during the Master, I learned that where you work, when, how and with whom makes a huge difference on both a professional level and a personal level. Part of my practice during the Master was therefore to experiment with working conditions and the principles of creating a community.

I discovered the power of working together and developed a workflow that includes long-term collaborations, co-creation and encounters. This workflow is an open-ended process; the outcome depends on the encounter I aim to achieve with the spectator. Another essential part of my new workflow is inviting my collaborators and the audience to get out of the traditional cinema settings and meet.

The ‘now-ness’ and ‘live-ness’ of a performance grant the possibility of having a dialogue with the spectator. Performance is a transient form of art; it can evolve and progress. Each performance lays a foundation for the next one, resembling the workflow of a VJ. The conversation I evoke with the public is part of the work process.

The project Fun Fatale revolves around modes of female emancipation from the patriarchal order. The possibility of liberation that exists in every situation by a change of

perspective, small actions or grand decisions. Fun Fatales operate within society, bending the existing structures to claim their freedom.

The same strategy is used in the project Through the Eye of the Needle. A group of women is brought together in a performance around sewing machines. At first glance it may appear to be a sweatshop in which women are bound by classic roles and professions, but behind their machines their separate voices, sounds and materials become an orchestra of united movement. The traditional cinematic experience is challenged and bent as images, stories, perspectives and sounds are woven together and projected. Set as a performance in a non-cinematic location, actors, creators and spectators are invited to meet and interact to create the outcome together.

LAST KISS OF THE TARANTULA SHORT STORY

“For she who lives more lives than one more deaths than one must die.” Oscar Wilde

My surname is shared with a place, a spider, a dance and a Hollywood director that almost killed his muse in a car while shooting a trilogy.

My VJ name was VJ Tarantula, as my surname is Taranto. It is also a gulf in southern Italy where the Tarantela is originated. The Tarantela (the dance of the spider) was traced back to the 14th and 15th century where the epidemic of ‘tantaism’ broke throughout the region of Taranto and slowly spread to other parts of Italy.

According to legend, once bitten by a tarantula, the victim, referred to as the tarantata — who was almost always a woman of lower status — would fall into a fit in which she was plagued by heightened excitability and restlessness. Eventually, she would succumb to the condition and die.

The only cure, it seemed, was to engage in the frenzied dancing ritual of the Tarantella. Townspeople would surround the tarantata while musicians would play instruments such as mandolins, guitars, and tambourines in different tempos in search of the correct healing rhythm. Each varied beat would affect the tarantata, leading her to move in erratic ways in line with the tempo. Once the correct rhythm was found, the victim — dancing the Tarantella until exhausted — was thought to be cured, having ‘sweated out’ the venom!”

It is curious to notice, that the Tarantula spider miraculously attacked only women of the lower class (mind you, during the middle ages), and the only remedy for this dangerous situation was to gather musicians with the rest of the village and to dance ecstatically. I dare to conclude that the ‘Tantaism’ was merely a medical excuse for legitimising women to dance their happiness and sorrow away.