By Josh Inocéncio
Situated next to Inversion Coffee in Montrose, Art League Houston is now presenting Muscle Panic, an interdisciplinary piece developed by Toronto-based artist Hazel Meyer. “I make installations that performance happens in and, within these installations, there are sculptures that also function as tools and as props,” says Meyer, describing her work. “I’m interested in the slipperiness of these objects, and in the tools that extend us.”
While blending both performance and visual art elements, the themes of Meyer’s piece are also intersectional: Muscle Panic focuses on the convergence of athleticism, feminism, and queerness. Drawing from personal experience, Meyer is intrigued by binding rituals involved in sports. “[Muscle Panic] is looking at sports as a place in which queer desires can be met,” relates Meyer. “Sports can be very polarizing at times. And my interest in sports is very much about the different rituals and camaraderie that we have with teammates and the kind of choreographies that develop in the movements of various sports.”
In Art League Houston’s gallery, viewers can see a giant scaffold (rented in Houston, Meyer notes) with clumps of 170 red workout t-shirts, workout gloves decorated with pom-poms, an orange water cooler, a banner, as well as other objects across the space—such as a piece of scaffolding holding photographs from seminal moments in sports history and culture. Several of these items—including the sweaty, cast-aside uniforms—are remnants from the exhibition’s opening night performance, in which a troupe of local women, trans, and non-binary artists, athletes, and activists entered the space and performed athletic drills, pregame rituals, teammate dynamics, and workouts. Leading up to their entrance, these performers embarked on a 5k run that culminated with their arrival at the gallery space. “The audience doesn’t see the 5k run because it’s not for them,” Meyer explains. “For us, the performance starts when we leave for the 5k run. And for the audience, it starts when we come through these [doors].”
As with any place Meyer develops an iteration of Muscle Panic, she adapts it to the local environment. Rather than bringing actors with her, she recruits local folks to participate in the piece—preferably those who are not performers by trade. Instead, she seeks fellow women and queer people who are athletes and activists themselves. “I knew I didn’t want to work with performers, but I also didn’t want people to feel uncomfortable,” says Meyer, who is interested in the similarities between preparing for sports and for performances. “But after exercise, endorphins are flowing and one feels very different. We get to that state by going for a run. So, we have six bodies, running through the gallery, breathing heavily. The smell changes, the sound changes. It activates the ideas.”
Originally, Meyer developed this piece in a smaller town outside Toronto called Warkworth. Instead of an art gallery, she developed this first iteration in a barn. Influenced by the concept of “world-making” in queer theory, Meyer envisioned a space away from mainstream society where queer bodies could be liberated through sport. “I kinda imagined the barn as this world we could populate, and for one night, [as] this amazing tender, sweaty, queer gym,” recalls Meyer. “Something that didn’t actually exist. Never in the performances are any of the drills we do recognized as sport. Instead, we look at what it’s like to watch your teammates stretch, to get ready for something. But that something never comes.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s anticlimactic, but it’s about what happens on the periphery,” adds Meyer.
The themes of Meyer’s piece are also intersectional: Muscle Panic focuses on the convergence of athleticism, feminism, and queerness. Photo by Alex Barber.
Rooted in her youthful experiences with sport, Meyer also infuses politics and queer theory into her work. Her partner, Cait McKinney, is a writer who often contributes passages to Meyer’s pieces, including Muscle Panic. “The name of the project is borrowed from Stanley Cohen who coined the term ‘moral panic,’” explains Meyer. “And it was used to describe what was happening to society in relationship to the mods and punks. Similarly, with Muscle Panic, I’m looking at what it means to be strong-willed as a woman, a trans person, a non-binary person, a queer. And not just strong-willed, but to literally be strong and show muscle.”
What: Muscle Panic
When: Now through March 10, 2018
Where: Art League Houston, 1953 Montrose Blvd.
Details: artleaguehouston.org/on-view
