SCUM MANIFESTO Echoes 70
ed like a little girl’s high-pitched voice, bursting in laughter, trans-ported in hysteria, and saying: “He’s just a machine, a walking Dildo”. Isn’t it also the approach of Angela Marzullo (Performing S.C.U.M., 2005), filming her two, 6 and 10-year-old daughters in a mise-en-scène that is similar to Carole and Delphine’s, but with the girls’ own objects (children-size chair, table and typewriter models), and their images showing on the monitor (Japanese cartoons in which we can recognise scenes of space conquest and interplanetary im-perialism with dominant male figures as well as mutant ones)? The emancipation is here even stronger since the youngest girl hard-ly types anything on the typewriter in the beginning (her sister re-minds her with a gesture that she has to “play dictation”) and the re-petitive, post-synchronized sound is always the same, without any rhythmic or tonal modulations, and thus independent from the words and actions. The young girl’s reading is as halting and repet-
Ever Is Over All, 1997, video installation of Pipilotti Rist, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth and Luhring Augustine.