Tammy Honey, Threesome (2006) video still, HDV as single channel DVD, colour, sound, 5mins.
This video composites three versions of myself singing along to the Kylie Minogue song ‘Come Into my World’ and is visually based on the effects used in the music video clip of the same name which features several different versions of the singer performing in synchronisation.
In this, I wanted to take on these elements of parody yet place these in the context of the home where the isolated performer can be sheltered from the fears and anxieties of public ridicule.
The work will be screened as two versions in the exhibition Australian Gothic: Video Art, Now, curated by Shaun Wilson, at Project Space/Spare Room, Melbourne (version 1) and the Directors Lounge, Berlin (version 2) in Feb 2007. In the catalogue essay ‘Hearts of Darkness in the Australian Gothic’, Doug Church describes Threesome as:
Honey brings to life three versions of herself in the one frame singing along to a headphones track with a nail biting, tone-deaf performance. It is hard to decide whether ‘Threesome’ is a music video clip or a video clip about
music. Either way it provokes a deeper level of examination into the reasons why some obsess with the desire for
fame through pop music as evidenced in reality-television programs such as Australian Idol, and Pop Star. Honey brings to our attention through these pop desires that an uneasy tension is created by these noted dissatisfactions of the every day life by dreams and delusions of chart-climbing fame and fortune.
Further, Honey carefully involves the idea of ridicule. Perhaps one of the most entertaining parts of reality TV pop music programs is the inability for talent-challenged contestants to recognised they cannot sing when in fact they believe without question their ‘talent’ has promise. Indeed, with quotes such as American Idol’s Simon Cowell ‘If your lifeguard duties were as good as your singing, a lot of people would be drowning’ it is hard not to see why
‘Threesom’e places this performance brutality on screen. The viewer cannot help but to assume the preconditioned
role of a judge in grading the performance we see projected in front of us. Yet this conceptual role forced onto the
viewer, perhaps without himself or herself knowing that they are no longer a spectator or an observer but rather,
now, a judge, demonstrates how a darker role of condemnation can be effectively used and, consequently,
integrated through video art. One might argue that from this, other video work that uses parody and ridicule can
also be closely liked to ‘Threesome’, in particularly Chris Cunningham’s ‘commentary on sex, cars and cellulite in
hip-hop clips for Aphex Twin’s Windowlicker.’ (Weir, 39)
References:
Kathryn Weir, ‘Jump Cut: Music Video Aesthetics’, in Video Hits: Art & Music Video, Queensland Art Gallery,
2004.
