Exploring dark twists of supposed love songs
Women’s performances in S.F. art installation illuminate misogyny
The Police’s hit single “Every Breath You Take” was lauded as a love song in the ’80s. Sung by Sting, it won Grammy Awards and is ranked among the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s 500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll.
But since then, as local singer Laurie Lewis’ rendition emphasized, the lyrics — “Every move you make/ Every bond you break /Every step you take/ I’ll be watching you” — have taken on a whole new meaning.
“It felt like she was singing that she’d be watching me,” audience member Eirik Johnson said with an uncomfortable shrug.
Johnson’s experience was just one effect of “Romantic Songs of the Patriarchy,” an immersive exhibition that featured 30 female Bay Area artists singing songs about women for three hours on end over three days.
Icelandic artist Ragnar Kjartansson debuted the piece Friday, Nov. 9, at the
Women’s Building in San Francisco, as the inaugural exhibition for C Project, a new organization that plans to bring more original performance art to nontraditional venues throughout the city.
Walking into the Women’s Building, guests were greeted by a tide of female voices. From there, they were able to wander the four floors of the space. No schedule was given, there was no tour guide, and no matter where they went — stairwell, bathroom, or conference room — they were surrounded by song.
“I know you want me/ You’re a good girl/ Can’t let it get past me,” Bianka Alloyn drawled from behind a desk on the first floor. Wearing black coveralls and combat boots, she performed Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” with defiance and, as she saw her mother watching in the doorway, surprising joy.
Across the hall, Lilie Bytheway-Hoy, perched above post office boxes, cradled her guitar and sang, “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss),” the 1962 song produced by Phil Spector for the girl group the Crystals.
“He hit me/ And I knew he loved me/ If he didn’t care for me/ I could have never made him mad …”
Without the aid of the bass or harmony, her voice was haunting, and the narrative felt like her own. A few audience members teared up as the song ended, and then — inevitably — began again.
“It’s more sculptural than musical,” said Kjartansson, who is known for his durational pieces. When a song is repeated, he explained, it takes on a physical quality. The more you listen the more you can see the song; and the more you see, the more disconcerting it becomes.
“We take the lyrics for granted, but these songs have dark underbellies,” said Carla Emil, founder of C Project, whose mission is to increase free, nonmuseum art performances in the city.
Last fall, she didn’t foresee that the C Project’s first program was going to be so politically charged. But a lot changed in a year.
The week after Kjartansson proposed “Romantic Songs of the Patriarchy,” the Harvey Weinstein scandal broke. As the year went on, and more stories of sexual assault surfaced everywhere from Hollywood to the White House, the project “took on more and more depth,” Emil said.
Above the “Trust Women” poster, Gracia Logue-Sargeant’s rendition of Cat Stevens’ “Wild World” spilled over the fourthfloor banister, mingling with ballads and odes, in both English and Spanish, for a veritable cacophony of female voices that felt all the more powerful in the #MeToo era.
“I can hear seven women singing,” Adjoa M. Stack marveled, from the third floor atrium. “They’re owning these misogynistic songs.”
While Kjartansson’s exhibition wrapped up Sunday, Nov. 11, C Project hopes to commission more thought-provoking art.
“Fifty years ago, this is the place where the freaks came, and they made things and they reacted to the tumultuous state of the world. And we all know there is plenty to react to if you watch the news,” said Kendra McKinley, performer and cocomposer of the project.
“Thank God for people like Carla Emil who are committed to keeping San Francisco on the map as an epicenter for the arts.”