Porn in the focus of art

A piece about our porn consumption

Fernando Sanchez: Ausschnitt aus "Me and my girlfriend"Still from “Me and my girl­fri­end”, © Fer­nando Sanchez

The ques­tion about the dif­fe­rence bet­ween por­no­gra­phy and art is pro­bably as old as por­no­gra­phy self. And is cer­tainly not nearly to get cla­ri­fied – pro­vi­ded we nowa­days even care about it. Whe­ther porn rep­res­ents an uni­que art form is not what I am inte­res­ted right now, it seems much more inte­res­ting to me, how artists deal with porn in their works, how they con­sci­ently use it and make it as a focal topic of their pieces.

One of these artists is Fer­nando San­chez, being alre­ady nota­ble for his other works, who made por­no­gra­phy a sub­ject of his piece “Me and my girl­fri­end” in a feli­ci­tous way.

(Oh – and who would’ve thought it? –, it’s going to get even more full-frontal after the click.)

Fernando Sanchez: Ausschnitt aus "Me and my girlfriend"Still from “Me and my girl­fri­end”, © Fer­nando Sanchez

Por­no­gra­phy rests on a cer­tain fond­ness for voy­eu­rism: watch and hug the wall. Camera offer the advan­tage that one can be unno­ti­ce­ably pre­sent wit­hout actually being per­so­nally there. The viewer is only pas­si­vely invol­ved. But what if he beco­mes part of it against any expectations?

Per­haps, this was what Fer­nando San­chez thought as he collec­ted bits of ama­teur porn sce­nes where the actors watch directly in the camera and in that way, esta­blish a con­nec­tion with the viewer. San­chez collect a fis­t­ful of such sce­nes and arran­ged them in the eight minute las­ting video “Me and my girl­fri­end”. The viewer feels some­what con­fron­ted with this unex­pec­ted situa­tion, now it is him who is wat­ched, it is him who is caught in an inti­mate, some­what embar­ras­sing moment.

Fur­ther­more, these sce­nes tell some­thing about the taped cou­ples, too. Many of the actors seem to be con­cer­ned of some­thing (Am I good enough? Am I in the shot?), some even to be preoc­cu­p­ied in thoughts. Some seem to be anxious about who is watching, others appear patently dull. A meta­phor for the porn indus­try? The alle­gory of the sad clown?

It is an allu­sion on the gro­wing mar­ket of por­no­gra­phy, too. US-american com­pa­nies make 13 bil­lion dol­lars per year, that is one per­cent of the USA’s gross domestic pro­duct. Porn alre­ady is esta­blis­hed, the con­su­mer doesn’t think about it as much as about his favou­rite yogurt. As a con­se­quence, the viewer adopts a cer­tain atti­tude of con­sump­tion and degra­des to a mere reci­pi­ent; the rela­tion gets strictly unilateral.

In “Me and my girl­fri­end”, this prin­ciple is rever­sed into its oppo­site: The ama­teur actors, who have no finan­cial inte­rest, chal­lenge the viewer to over­come his con­su­mer beha­viour and – if even for a brief moment – to reflect the situa­tion. Sud­denly the pro­duct oppo­ses the con­su­mer, cau­ses con­fu­sion and is cer­tainly a com­plete sur­prise. It forces the viewer to do some­thing, he does not want to do: contemplation.

 

On balance, sce­nes such as in “Me and my girl­fri­end” surely spoil every porn experience…