I was convinced to go to Burning Man (BM) by my sister who had been there before. As a California resident it becomes inevitable not to experience this almost 30 year old festival.
It is something that started as a playful, experimental exercise by a San Francisco artist and with 8 people, where they gathered by the beach and burned an effigy of a man, and got written up in the local newspaper the next day and so kept the 'ritual' for years to come. They grew too big for SF at some point so they moved it to a remote Nevada desert, 3 hours from the Reno airport, and 8-10 hours drive from both SF and Los Angeles. This year 70,000 joined this "ritual" from all over the world. There are burning man alike festivals all over the world, and celebrities such as Susan Sarandon were there this year paying homage to another deceased friend and celebrity, leaving their ashes at the BM temple.
The Stage: a 5 miles by 5 miles desert with harsh conditions. The "playa."
The Actors: people from all walks of life and ages, in costume, goggles, tutus, and fur coats for the desert nights. The "pilgrims."
The Score: best DJs flown from all over the world, mostly techno/psychedelic music.
The Duration: A week leading to the first Monday of September (labor day in US).
The Set Design: International professional and amateur artists.Materials used includes wood, metal, concepts, reused material, fire installations, and more.
Mode of Transport on the Playa: bicycles only. Customized and decorated with light in order to find it among 1000s of other bikes at your points of stop. They look like "Playa Bugs"
Synopsis: an exercise of letting go, connecting, not worrying, belonging, loving, & testing your limits in a harsh environment. Enjoy music, dance, make new friends & learn about community.
Highlight:
BM before anything is about scale. The scale of the desert, the scale of the artworks, the scale of the sleepless night, the scale of no obligations and no limits and the scale of anticipation and excitement.
BM is also similar to many religious rituals. The Shia Ashura for example, where you have ornamentation, music, crowds connecting in tight encounters, and givings: food in Ashura vs. hugs and love at BM. Also there is a rule of no money can be exchanged at the festival. You also have a lot of introspection, mostly aided by drugs (Acid being the drug of choice just like the 1960s) and freedom in expression of how you dress, decorate yourself, and what kind of camp you set up. This freedom has caused a loving and caring community and not a college kind of drunken craziness. This is partly due to the fact that it still is a kind of elite gathering, where you have to know about it, and want to go to it; and partly because it is expensive (tickets are $300/head and it is costly to set up camps and get there and prepare for the harshness of the desert). It is also that the massiveness yet simplicity of the desert as the foreground and the background is humbling and quieting. The harshness of the sand storms and the heat calms and regulates the potential craziness and violence that can be pumped by drugs, alcohol, nudity and absolute freedom.
As a Mexican shaman there told me as he was tossing and turning me in some acrobatic yoga poses there: "We have a lot to learn from the desert people."
The Temple is one of the 2 center pieces of this ritualistic gathering. It sits across from the 'man' (the other center piece). It started with an invited artist to do something like that in the late 1980s. Today it has become a beautiful architectural and artistic production, each year more interesting than the last. Its relationship to the 'pilgrims' is reminiscent of the Muslims' Hajj, or any temple or place of worship, where you have fouls of people pouring their hearts out, meditating, connecting, praying, crying.
The overall scene is one of a community. In a 5 miles by 5 miles radius, camps are set up in an organized and numbered fashion, you immediately have a 'home' and neighbors. You share the public bathroom (no showers) with them, unless you have an RV with one in it. The rules are to help each other out, and to barter things if you need anything without accepting or asking for money. One of the items in the Manifesto is "gifting". Most people plan for this and come with handmade jewelry for example or prepare things to eat/drink or give a service (pop up showers, a massage, singing for you... you name it... ). There are kids, old people, young people, from all walks of life. I met an IBM executive from the US who lives in China now but comes for BM every year. I talked to a monastic yogi who is in the tech world, i met a shaman who is an energy healer, and partied with groups of cool Iranians from LA, SF, Texas and Canada.
You connect and talk to people. There are no boundaries or walls, everyone is at their best, in a sort of utopia where class, gender, status, and race does not matter. these distinctions do not matter, to the point that some adopt a stage name, pen name, pseudo name that expresses their likes and wants and soul, a "playa name." This connecting from the core, clean of titles and names and boxes and frameworks is the essence of BM; the most beautiful part of this gathering and the saddest at the same time: why can't we have this in the larger scale in the world? what happens that when we leave the Playa everyone is back to their boxed ideas, negative feelings and pre-conceptions and violence to whatever extent that a crowed like this is prone to and capable of (honking, road rage, grudges, bitterness... none of this is there o the playa, why can't we keep it that way outside of the playa?)
The second thing is that you are reduced to your childhood form. By that I mean, you ride bicycles (and only that is allowed on the playa), are dressed silly, or funny, or are naked or half naked, as you wish, similar to when you were a toddler and before you subscribed into 'systems' and 'rules' and 'norms'. You have this huge playground. It is filled with inspiration, things to do, huge art carts that go around blasting music, everyone is happy, there are no 'soucis' but only FOMO (a hipster terms for Fear of Missing Out) and dehydration or not finding your friends at the next playground or fun event. This is truly the best part of it: you are void of obligations, time restrictions and judgment. Everyone loves you, cares for you, is nice to you, you are a child again, safe and happy. The environment is filled with grandeur, beauty, and music. Similar to what you thought the world would be when you were a child. I don't think there is any other place or event that creates this kind of a reduction to the basics.
The temple like I said is similar to any Imamzadeh I have been to in Iran, it is humbling to see how this urge to shed suffering and sadness is shared by all humans, and it is sad to see how we could have had the same benefits of such places of worships without them being so manipulated by institutionalized religion. Sitting there meditating, crying or praying, you can only think of how connected all people are to each other. Your sorrows and problems immediately pale to nothing in comparison to others' suffering that are expressed on the walls. The walls inside and outside are COVERED with writings, nick-knacks, wedding gowns, images of family and pets, boxes, drawing, toys, threads etc. They are left there to be cremated on the last day of the festival as the temple burns to ashes. This is the last major event where everyone gathers in silence and cries in a collective sob, with occasional shouts of "Mom I miss you" or "Mary I love you." Again a sort of crowd hysteria that you experience in a concert, in a crowded bazaar, or anywhere where you get a synergy of the human energies.
Someone wrote on its walls: "Like a split in the river, we may end up in different directions, but we will always hare the same water. I will see you in the ocean of love."
The 'man burn' which was done from the early years of BM, was less 'spiritual'. it was more of a fireworks spectacle this year and not as moving as the temple burn or the burning of the artworks.
A lot of the large scale artworks are also burnt, and most are dismantled to be carried back to the studios where they were made. This transience and ephemerality of the artworks is similar to works by land artists. Andy Goldsworthy, for example. The Scottish land and environmental artist who wakes up at 5AM to build a huge ice sculpture from natural materials without using any glue or screws that will be melted by noon as soon as he is done with the work. I have always been extremely touched by artists who do that. Less by those who destroy their works, but more by those who make work that is ephemeral, short lived. To their non-attachment to the work, and the utmost emphasis on the 'process' of creation and keeping the effects of that process internally rather than using the results of the process as an 'object', potentially a commercial one. this is of course a whole different subject, but there is something selfless and ritualistic about it, something similar to the Buddhist Mandalas. At BM you have that where the artist has spent months constructing an amazing work, only to burn it after its one week of viewing.
The art is nothing you would showcase at MoMA or Pompidou in my humble opinion. I saw a lot of imitations and nothing avant-garde or ground breaking. This I think is partly because the 'hippie' art is a retrospective/sharing one that is done with an agenda to fit the concept of this festival. It is not the artworks that will push the discourse in art history forward. This is not the place for that anyway. This is a place where they want to create art that moves, or inspires, or is interactive. Everything I saw was too charged with meaning and descriptions, a bit too easy, which I take as the vernacular of this festival. That said, I am sure that this has to do to some extent with the lack of the white cube. If some of the same works were displayed in the white cube, I wonder if I would be more generous and less critical. For example, Boltanski's work could be something that fits here, while I love his works (not matter how easy it might be, I do connect with his melancholic story telling medium), and so I always love them in the museums, but had I seen them on the playa at BM I would probably say the same thing (that they are pedestrian or easy or not pushing any boundaries).
One of the other rules is to not leave any trace. Similar to the Buddhist Mandalas again, you leave the desert with everything you brought, including your shower water (if you set up a shower) and any trash of any kind. The desert goes back to sleep the way we found it and that is a key and moving aspect of this gathering. (these years with the number of people, there are teams of volunteers that stay back for a week or two cleaning up the desert back to its original state.)
There are a lot of ways to discuss experiencing BM, from what I heard from people who have been back a dozen times, each time your experience is different because each time you are different, your moods, what you are seeking or running fro or to is different.
It is something that started as a playful, experimental exercise by a San Francisco artist and with 8 people, where they gathered by the beach and burned an effigy of a man, and got written up in the local newspaper the next day and so kept the 'ritual' for years to come. They grew too big for SF at some point so they moved it to a remote Nevada desert, 3 hours from the Reno airport, and 8-10 hours drive from both SF and Los Angeles. This year 70,000 joined this "ritual" from all over the world. There are burning man alike festivals all over the world, and celebrities such as Susan Sarandon were there this year paying homage to another deceased friend and celebrity, leaving their ashes at the BM temple.
The Stage: a 5 miles by 5 miles desert with harsh conditions. The "playa."
The Actors: people from all walks of life and ages, in costume, goggles, tutus, and fur coats for the desert nights. The "pilgrims."
The Score: best DJs flown from all over the world, mostly techno/psychedelic music.
The Duration: A week leading to the first Monday of September (labor day in US).
The Set Design: International professional and amateur artists.Materials used includes wood, metal, concepts, reused material, fire installations, and more.
Mode of Transport on the Playa: bicycles only. Customized and decorated with light in order to find it among 1000s of other bikes at your points of stop. They look like "Playa Bugs"
Synopsis: an exercise of letting go, connecting, not worrying, belonging, loving, & testing your limits in a harsh environment. Enjoy music, dance, make new friends & learn about community.
Highlight:
BM before anything is about scale. The scale of the desert, the scale of the artworks, the scale of the sleepless night, the scale of no obligations and no limits and the scale of anticipation and excitement.
BM is also similar to many religious rituals. The Shia Ashura for example, where you have ornamentation, music, crowds connecting in tight encounters, and givings: food in Ashura vs. hugs and love at BM. Also there is a rule of no money can be exchanged at the festival. You also have a lot of introspection, mostly aided by drugs (Acid being the drug of choice just like the 1960s) and freedom in expression of how you dress, decorate yourself, and what kind of camp you set up. This freedom has caused a loving and caring community and not a college kind of drunken craziness. This is partly due to the fact that it still is a kind of elite gathering, where you have to know about it, and want to go to it; and partly because it is expensive (tickets are $300/head and it is costly to set up camps and get there and prepare for the harshness of the desert). It is also that the massiveness yet simplicity of the desert as the foreground and the background is humbling and quieting. The harshness of the sand storms and the heat calms and regulates the potential craziness and violence that can be pumped by drugs, alcohol, nudity and absolute freedom.
As a Mexican shaman there told me as he was tossing and turning me in some acrobatic yoga poses there: "We have a lot to learn from the desert people."
The Temple is one of the 2 center pieces of this ritualistic gathering. It sits across from the 'man' (the other center piece). It started with an invited artist to do something like that in the late 1980s. Today it has become a beautiful architectural and artistic production, each year more interesting than the last. Its relationship to the 'pilgrims' is reminiscent of the Muslims' Hajj, or any temple or place of worship, where you have fouls of people pouring their hearts out, meditating, connecting, praying, crying.
The overall scene is one of a community. In a 5 miles by 5 miles radius, camps are set up in an organized and numbered fashion, you immediately have a 'home' and neighbors. You share the public bathroom (no showers) with them, unless you have an RV with one in it. The rules are to help each other out, and to barter things if you need anything without accepting or asking for money. One of the items in the Manifesto is "gifting". Most people plan for this and come with handmade jewelry for example or prepare things to eat/drink or give a service (pop up showers, a massage, singing for you... you name it... ). There are kids, old people, young people, from all walks of life. I met an IBM executive from the US who lives in China now but comes for BM every year. I talked to a monastic yogi who is in the tech world, i met a shaman who is an energy healer, and partied with groups of cool Iranians from LA, SF, Texas and Canada.
You connect and talk to people. There are no boundaries or walls, everyone is at their best, in a sort of utopia where class, gender, status, and race does not matter. these distinctions do not matter, to the point that some adopt a stage name, pen name, pseudo name that expresses their likes and wants and soul, a "playa name." This connecting from the core, clean of titles and names and boxes and frameworks is the essence of BM; the most beautiful part of this gathering and the saddest at the same time: why can't we have this in the larger scale in the world? what happens that when we leave the Playa everyone is back to their boxed ideas, negative feelings and pre-conceptions and violence to whatever extent that a crowed like this is prone to and capable of (honking, road rage, grudges, bitterness... none of this is there o the playa, why can't we keep it that way outside of the playa?)
The second thing is that you are reduced to your childhood form. By that I mean, you ride bicycles (and only that is allowed on the playa), are dressed silly, or funny, or are naked or half naked, as you wish, similar to when you were a toddler and before you subscribed into 'systems' and 'rules' and 'norms'. You have this huge playground. It is filled with inspiration, things to do, huge art carts that go around blasting music, everyone is happy, there are no 'soucis' but only FOMO (a hipster terms for Fear of Missing Out) and dehydration or not finding your friends at the next playground or fun event. This is truly the best part of it: you are void of obligations, time restrictions and judgment. Everyone loves you, cares for you, is nice to you, you are a child again, safe and happy. The environment is filled with grandeur, beauty, and music. Similar to what you thought the world would be when you were a child. I don't think there is any other place or event that creates this kind of a reduction to the basics.
The temple like I said is similar to any Imamzadeh I have been to in Iran, it is humbling to see how this urge to shed suffering and sadness is shared by all humans, and it is sad to see how we could have had the same benefits of such places of worships without them being so manipulated by institutionalized religion. Sitting there meditating, crying or praying, you can only think of how connected all people are to each other. Your sorrows and problems immediately pale to nothing in comparison to others' suffering that are expressed on the walls. The walls inside and outside are COVERED with writings, nick-knacks, wedding gowns, images of family and pets, boxes, drawing, toys, threads etc. They are left there to be cremated on the last day of the festival as the temple burns to ashes. This is the last major event where everyone gathers in silence and cries in a collective sob, with occasional shouts of "Mom I miss you" or "Mary I love you." Again a sort of crowd hysteria that you experience in a concert, in a crowded bazaar, or anywhere where you get a synergy of the human energies.
Someone wrote on its walls: "Like a split in the river, we may end up in different directions, but we will always hare the same water. I will see you in the ocean of love."
The 'man burn' which was done from the early years of BM, was less 'spiritual'. it was more of a fireworks spectacle this year and not as moving as the temple burn or the burning of the artworks.
A lot of the large scale artworks are also burnt, and most are dismantled to be carried back to the studios where they were made. This transience and ephemerality of the artworks is similar to works by land artists. Andy Goldsworthy, for example. The Scottish land and environmental artist who wakes up at 5AM to build a huge ice sculpture from natural materials without using any glue or screws that will be melted by noon as soon as he is done with the work. I have always been extremely touched by artists who do that. Less by those who destroy their works, but more by those who make work that is ephemeral, short lived. To their non-attachment to the work, and the utmost emphasis on the 'process' of creation and keeping the effects of that process internally rather than using the results of the process as an 'object', potentially a commercial one. this is of course a whole different subject, but there is something selfless and ritualistic about it, something similar to the Buddhist Mandalas. At BM you have that where the artist has spent months constructing an amazing work, only to burn it after its one week of viewing.
The art is nothing you would showcase at MoMA or Pompidou in my humble opinion. I saw a lot of imitations and nothing avant-garde or ground breaking. This I think is partly because the 'hippie' art is a retrospective/sharing one that is done with an agenda to fit the concept of this festival. It is not the artworks that will push the discourse in art history forward. This is not the place for that anyway. This is a place where they want to create art that moves, or inspires, or is interactive. Everything I saw was too charged with meaning and descriptions, a bit too easy, which I take as the vernacular of this festival. That said, I am sure that this has to do to some extent with the lack of the white cube. If some of the same works were displayed in the white cube, I wonder if I would be more generous and less critical. For example, Boltanski's work could be something that fits here, while I love his works (not matter how easy it might be, I do connect with his melancholic story telling medium), and so I always love them in the museums, but had I seen them on the playa at BM I would probably say the same thing (that they are pedestrian or easy or not pushing any boundaries).
One of the other rules is to not leave any trace. Similar to the Buddhist Mandalas again, you leave the desert with everything you brought, including your shower water (if you set up a shower) and any trash of any kind. The desert goes back to sleep the way we found it and that is a key and moving aspect of this gathering. (these years with the number of people, there are teams of volunteers that stay back for a week or two cleaning up the desert back to its original state.)
There are a lot of ways to discuss experiencing BM, from what I heard from people who have been back a dozen times, each time your experience is different because each time you are different, your moods, what you are seeking or running fro or to is different.
