Sit With Me
“What I liked was chunks of time all together, every real moment… I only wanted to find great people and let them be themselves… and I’d film them for a certain length of time and that would be the movie.” — Andy Warhol
We all use a “game face.” We hide our emotions, fears, and joys for all kinds of reasons, from proving ourselves to masking our opinions. We physically and emotionally change to avoid the knowing glare of those around us. Where science tells us
that eye contact promotes intimacy and closeness, we hope to avoid that very intimacy through the same strategies that make us feel strong.
Drawing inspiration from Andy Warhol’s Screen Tests and Marina Abramovic’s more recent piece The Artist is Present, we challenged six women of different ages and backgrounds to discuss their game faces and when the discussion was over, sit with the camera.
Alicia, Managing Director of a non-profit, spoke about a recent trauma. Always a “girly-girl,” she often relies heavily on clothes and make-up to feel and look like everything is under control. Just a little lip gloss brings the power.
Sonia, soon-to-be-graduate and entrepreneur, spoke about the brave face we put on for friends when our emotions get the better of us. We don’t break down.
Kay-Anne, 20-year-old hapa, optimist, and nomadic spirit with a deep love for bluegrass, green tea, and national parks grew up in the Midwest, spent her high school years in China, and now attends Georgetown University. She spoke about music being more important than appearance and having confidence in a perfect performance.
Nancy, student leader, talked about the power that dance has given her to escape her everyday and take on another attitude – just for a moment.
Erica, entrepreneur and strategist, talked about the power of performance. She told a story about how one poem (and sharing that poem) gave her a whole new game face. That, and red lipstick.
Emilia, student, talked about the power of beauty, beauty as perceived by the male gaze, and regaining that toughness, that feeling of yourself, with something as simple as a pair of clogs.