The climate emergency, the condition of women and contemporary forms of expression. A unique conversation with artist Laurie Anderson, on the occasion of the Terraforma festival.
Around the antique table, on a sweltering July afternoon, Laurie Anderson strides about in her cowgirl ankle boots. She advances slowly, with a smile, through one of the rooms of the eighteenth-century Villa Arconati, on the outskirts of Milan — the little Versailles hidden in the untamed countryside of the Parco delle Groane. At 72, the multifaceted artist born in a small town in Illinois, who has lived through half a century of American and international avant-garde, has the ability to draw you into an indefinite time. Her hair is still cropped short, as it was when she was young. Her facial features retain the delicate quality of the 1970s, when — after studying violin and sculpture — she began to express herself in the performing arts with her installations and musical, written, visual and digital compositions.
The following day, Anderson would perform in the historic gardens on a stage "under the night sky", born out of a collaboration between two festivals: the younger and more sustainable Terraforma and the thirty-year-old Villa Arconati music festival. "I'm happy to be at Terraforma," she says, removing her small mirrored glasses. "A festival where you can express yourself through music and at the same time talk about ecology. The earth is collapsing. A global mobilisation is needed. We're heading towards a 'war' — we have to prepare, but almost no one is doing so."
With its sixth edition, the founders of Terraforma continued their project to regenerate the woodland of Villa Arconati-FAR, interspersing concerts and DJ sets with debates on climate change. Anderson's words grow at times harsh, dark, like the (cathartic) walls of sound she would deliver the following day on stage — by way of her signature tape-bow violin, which she invented herself, a keyboard, and the accompaniment of Albanian-born cellist Rubin Kodheli. "History is probably heading towards extinction. The future looks terrifying. We have never been forced to think about the end of life — now we are. That is why I want to help young people working on the environment. That is why I am here."
Laurie Anderson has publicly stated that Greta Thunberg, the young Swedish activist fighting climate change, is one of her current heroines: "She has the merit of looking reality in the face, even when it looks very painful. She is trying to get the attention of people who would rather look the other way, and she does so in a very positive way. She knows how to convey complex concepts in direct language, including through social media."
Anderson, an icon of technological and linguistic experimentation who has managed to tune in to very different eras, admits: "I would like to learn to use Twitter in a smarter way." Neurobiologist and plant scientist Stefano Mancuso would also return at Terraforma to the theme of extinction and how to resist it by making better use — we human beings — of our brains.
Inevitably, the conversation shifts to the condition of women. She has not seen the documentary Femministe: Ritratti di un'Epoca (Feminists: What Were They Thinking?), in which she herself appears alongside actress Jane Fonda and many other feminists, streaming on Netflix — but that hardly matters: "We women are still considered inferior beings," she says, going straight to the heart of the matter. What can we do in the face of discrimination and abuse? The answer comes from her decades-long study of Buddhism, but also from the tai chi she practised with her husband and rock legend Lou Reed, who died in 2013. "We have to learn to annihilate others' violence by transforming it into something positive for ourselves," she replies, miming an act of aggression and how to escape it.
The following evening, at the close of her Terraforma show The language of the future — a format she has been reinventing since 1977 — she would take on, to considerable surprise, several minutes of dance and martial meditation. The love of her life, Lou Reed, seems to be transfigured in her, as she does in the interview that follows, always managing to maintain a composure on the edge of the abyss: a balance between gentleness and resolve, a centre gravitating between detachment and engagement, a subtle and never flaunted connection between art and politics.
In the show you explore language and time. How do you assess this eternal present to which chats, social networks and even political propaganda — increasingly expressed through posts — keep us anchored?
We can look at the present from different perspectives. For Buddhists it is the only temporal dimension. "Don't go back to the past, don't go into the future. Train your mind to stay in the now." I began studying this profound vision of existence in the 1970s and I still put it into practice today. My show for Terraforma takes place in an absolute present. I opened the door to the here and now, improvising and creating something that cannot be repeated twice. In music too, no performance is ever the same as another.
Can the instant language of social media be profound?
I would like to find a way to use Twitter in a more positive and interesting way. Not for gossip or other pointless things — we should think of social media as tools to be handled better.
How important to you are the past — that is, your roots — and the future, as an imagining of an alternative?
I have always loved history. I have been inspired by artists of the past. I have tried to understand the cultural context in which they lived. As for the future, perhaps we are among the last human beings able to think about it, to live it. History is probably heading towards extinction. The future looks terrifying. A few days ago it was 49 degrees in Paris. Sixty per cent of insects could be extinct in fifty years. If that happens, the entire ecosystem of the planet will collapse. Perhaps that is also why so many people use social media compulsively and focus on the instant — because they are afraid. The truth about what awaits us is very painful. We have never been forced to think about the end of life on Earth — now we are. And yet catastrophe is not inevitable. We human beings have an incredible responsibility, but it is not through technology alone that we will save ourselves. First and foremost, we must understand who we are.
You said that Greta Thunberg is one of your current heroines. Why?
Because she is working hard to get people's attention. She looks at the future with courage. She knows what awaits her, that her generation will suffer enormously, but she doesn't back down. She has a very positive attitude. And she tweets constantly, but for a good reason. She uses language very well, getting difficult concepts across in a direct way. I hope Greta makes it. A global mobilisation is needed. We're heading towards a "war" — we have to prepare, but no one is doing so. That is why I came to Terraforma.
Can you tell us more?
I support people working on ecology, who are trying to draw attention to the environment, who are finally talking about extinction. I want to help those who claim to believe in their own illusions.
As adults, do we have a responsibility to support young people?
We need to teach them something they can love. To speak to them in a positive way, but also a realistic one. It isn't right to let them grow up in a fairy tale. Only then can we help them find their own paths. I would tell young mothers not to be too rigid. Children are open, curious. I hope the new generations will be freer.
Greta has been attacked because she is a girl who breaks the mould. Are times still hard for women and girls?
Yes, in the United States I still see very few women in Congress, very few running companies, in positions of power. Something important and special no longer seems to matter: women are naturally different. They don't tend to pick up a weapon and kill. Their nature is unique, because it is peacemaking, generally non-violent. We must remember that violence is always, always, without exception, unacceptable — even if someone comes at you with a knife. If I pretend to stab you, what do you do?
[Anderson mimes the gesture, Ed.]
You pull back, you try to get away. Good. Now try to stab me.
[She takes my arm firmly and brings it down, Ed.]
I used your force to neutralise it. I didn't try to resist you. Fleeing from violence, getting yourself to safety, is the best choice. But if you can't do that, you have to turn the worst thing that can happen to you into something good for you. Women need to analyse situations and learn to use them in a more effective way.
