08 May 2026

Translation: Performance in Contemporary Art

Yoko Ono, Cut Piece 1964

Is performance essential to our understanding of contemporary art?

Link to original article in French: https://www.bonart.cat/fr/n/46537/la-performativite-est-elle-essentielle-a-la-comprehension-de-l39art-contemporain

Translated from French into English by Bora Mici

Contemporary art often makes us uncomfortable because it no longer suffices for it to reflect reality like a mirror. In many cases, it intervenes in the world and modifies certain things: it creates situations, influences behaviors and creates new perspectives for relating to others. In this sense, the notion of performance becomes central. It is however important to specify that we are not talking about the same thing as the performing arts, which can be understood as simple “performances” in front of an audience. Here, the main idea is different: the work of art does not only create, but it encourages others to create too. As part of a constitutive logic, it functions like an apparatus that puts into motion the actions, decisions and relationships between people and which creates the conditions that favor the emergence of these phenomena.

Therefore, a work of art is performative when it mobilizes another’s actions and decisions, when it generates unexpected audiences, when it turns spectators into participants, and when it redefines what it means to be a creator, a work of art and a community. This point of view helps us understand that the way a work of art functions does not only depend on the artist because the audience and its degree of involvement, an institution and its norms, a space and its apparatuses, as well as the protocols and languages that assign roles and orient possible actions, also play a role. In the same way, the sociopolitical context with its material and emotional tensions shapes its effects.

However, there are no neutral actors. Performative art, in as far as it involves people and generates relationships and situations, cannot ignore the consequences of its implementation: it has to accept its responsibility. It is precisely for this reason that it becomes necessary to monitor its application and the conditions under which it is produced because performance can degenerate when it becomes stereotypical through eventification, instrumentalized participation or predictable and domesticated transgression.

It is why we must redefine our concept of its effectiveness, no longer to be seen as an immediate impact or a mediatic buzz, but as the ability to mobilize learning processes, to create relationships and modify habits, while leaving a mark as a process and not as an object. At a time when everything tends to devolve into quick consumption and fleeting attention spans, the crux of the matter shifts elsewhere: we no longer ought to ask “what this work is about?” but rather what it activates, what it transforms, how it affects us and what it encourages us to do. In this sense, we can perhaps understand performativity as a poetics of consequence: a way of articulating forms and situations that not only have meaning but also produce effects and leave a mark on our way of perceiving the world, our way of interacting with it and acting within it.

26 April 2026

Translation: Nathalie Sarraute Tropisms I

Gustav Klimt, The Sunflower, 1907

This is Bora Mici's original French to Albanian translation of the first tropism in Nathalie Sarraute's French language collection Tropismes, an array of very short fiction pieces that acutely zoom into a given mind space that is turning, like plants do toward light - hence the title Tropisms - toward an outside stimulus and interacting with it. This particular one describes a crowd of people looking at shop windows in an anonymous town by focusing on their physical movements in space as a group as well as the psychology of their temperament. My father Sokol Mici also contributed to this translation. 

Tropisms, I translated from French into Albanian by Bora Mici

Dukej sikur buronin ngado, sikur mugullonin në ajrin e vakët paksa të lagësht. Derdheshin ngadalë, sikur po rridhnin nga muret, pemët e rrethuara me gjerdhe, stolat, trotuarët e ndotur, sheshet.

Shtriheshin në grumbuj të gjatë dhe të errët midis fasadave të pajeta të shtëpive. Herë pas herë, përpara vitrinave të dyqaneve formonin bërthama më të dendura, të palëvizshme që dridheshin, duke të krijuar përshtypjen e mpiksjeve të vogla.

Rrezatonin një qetësi të çuditshme, një kënaqësi të pashpresë. Sodisnin me kujdes pirgjet e ndërresave në Ekspozimin e të Bardhave, që imitonin bukur malet e mbuluara me dëborë, ose ndonjë kukull, dhëmbët dhe sytë e së cilës ndizeshin në intervale të rregullta. Ndizeshin dhe shuheshin, ndizeshin, shuheshin, ndizeshin, shuheshin, gjithnjë në intervale identike, ndizeshin dhe shuheshin përsëri.

Vështronin për një kohë të gjatë pa lëvizur. Rrinin aty, duke ofruar veten përpara vitrinave të qyqaneve. Shtynin gjithnjë largimin e tyre deri në intervalin tjetër. Ndërsa fëmijët e vegjël të heshtur që i mbanin nga dora, prisnin me durim pranë tyre, të lodhur nga soditja dhe të shpërqendruar.

31 March 2026

Translation: Gianni Rodari, A King without a Crown

Kazimir Malevich, Supremus 55, 1917

This is Bora Mici's original Italian to English translation of the very short story A Re without a Corona, or A King without a Crown, in the children's collection Il libro degli errori, or The Book of Errors, by the 20th-century Italian author Gianni Rodari. In this book, Rodari creates playful poems and little stories, which remain very relevant to this day, and gently mock society through fun plays on words. I know I had promised you another entry from André Gide's journal, but Gide was too serious in tone for today, so I chose something lighter and which is probably on everyone's minds lately. 

A Re without a Corona or A King without a Crown — Gianni Rodari, translated into English by Bora Mici

Nota bene: Re means both the musical note D or Re and king in Italian, so keep that in mind when you are reading the translation. And a corona is a form of musical notation that can be translated as fermata or corona in English. Its function is explained in the story.

Once upon a time there was a Re without a corona.

He was the second note on the musical scale. He lived just under the staff, and so above him, he could see a Mi that had a huge corona, like this. As you know, musicians put a notation called a “corona” above certain notes, in order to let the performer know: — You can hold this note with a corona as long as you wish, as long as you have enough breath…

And so, it can happen that a Mi has a corona, and it’s fine. It can also happen that a Sol has it, but this is understandable, because it is the fifth note on the musical scale, and the fifth note is also called the “dominant” one. And it can happen that a “Re” does not have it at all. Most of the musical “Re’s” have never had a corona and they never complained about it to anyone.

But this Re kept complaining, and he did not want to hear otherwise.

“The author” — he said, “has unfairly ignored me. I will resign.” And in fact, he resigned and went away. The musician had to put the pause sign in his place, which was now left vacant.

Now when I play that piece on my violin, when I get to that spot, I have to observe a moment of silence in memory of the discontented Re.

30 March 2026

Translation: André Gide Journal 4

Jean-Honoré Fragonard, Les hasards heureux de l'escarpolette, 1767-1769

Today's quote from the journal of André Gide dates from August 3, 1935. Tomorrow I will publish a longer entry on the same subject, written the following day, which delves deeper into the question of social class, poverty and the lust for life. As perhaps you have already understood from the entries I have published thus far that André Gide defied social categories and refused to align himself with any ideology other than that of pure creativity.   

"It would be good for the voice of the poor, which has been silenced much too long, to manage to be heard. But I cannot admit to only hearing this one voice. Man does not cease to be of interest to me when he stops being wretched: on the contrary. It goes without saying that it is important to help him, just like we first must water a plant; but in order to obtain the flower, and that is my concern." - André Gide  

29 March 2026

Translation: André Gide Journal 3

Frank Stella, The Mat-Maker, 1990

Today's entry from André Gide's journal dates from Monday, May 7th, 1906. It is quite poignant and raises questions about the utility of art and literature, as well as the concept of art for art's sake. It reminds me of what Kant said about aesthetic contemplation: beauty is a disinterested form of purpose in itself through the free play of the imagination. Throughout his journal, Gide brings up Communism and Christianity often and seems to vacillate between a fascination and a rejection of their principles. He also is interested by the idea of objectification, which relates directly to the human need for rationalization and purpose. Whenever we interpret a work of art, we try to come up with a hidden structure or meaning it represents, no matter how abstract it is. And I believe that speaks to art's inherent purpose as a means of communication, but we can also contemplate it in silence and enjoy it sensorially. I invite all readers today to contemplate what honesty means to them and whether only purely aesthetic feelings are honest.  

"I doubt the honesty of a feeling as soon as it can be useful to me. I must meditate on this need for self-mortification." - André Gide