Dying on stage is performance’s failure: a mute space where lines are forgotten and the performer crumbles. What if I die (on stage) by accident, but also on purpose (after the accident)? How can the stage be a (sacred) place where “nothing” happens except for the simple holding of space? What happens in that space of “nothing?”
[Feature photo: Henry Chan]
Photo: Alignments
Sharpshooter [top five hits: 6 years later] (May 2019)
Fonderie Darling, RIPA – rencontre interuniversitaire de performance actuelle, Montreal, QC
Six years after the first Sharpshooter, I was invited as the RIPA mentor, which had me reflect on those who mentored me: specifically artists who had died (most quite recently). RIP: Etienne Espinet (1970-1995); Pierre Allard (1964-2018); Dorothy Deschamps (1953-2019); Lee Wen (1975-2019); Carolee Schneemann (1939-2019). 
Photo: Henry Chan
Sharpshooter [top five hits: 3.33 RPH version] (Feb 2014)
Hub 14, Link & Pin Series, Toronto, ON
Following up from the first Sharpshooter, this three-hour performance was another invitation to listen to nothing really slowly build and when the cycle ended it started again and “nothing” really happened — except the sharing of space (and tears) with the soundtrack of my life in song (5 x 3 minute pop x 3.33 per hour x 3 hours).
Photo: Christian Bujold
Sharpshooter [top five hits: lesson #2] (Oct 2013)
Bain Saint-Michel, VIVA! Art action Festival, Montreal, QC
My most colossal failure “on stage” turned into the most important turning point in my performance practice. The thing that was supposed to happen didn’t. But the thing that did — this space of “nothing” — inadvertently embodied fundamental notions that have since defined and refined my values and priorities as an artist. 
Photo: Gerry Lauzon
Sharpshooter [top five hits: lesson #1] (Sept 2013)
Club de Tir Ville St-Pierre, VIVA! Art action Festival, Montreal, QC
As post-Mexico-residence research (and in a gesture of integration), my first visit to a firing range doubled as initial preparation for lesson #2 (during which I did end up “dying on stage”): actively contemplating the relationship between performance and death, from the safety of my Canadian (and white-passing situated) reality.
Victoria Stanton 