Allan Kaprow, in his 1966 book Assemblages, Environments, and Happenings, argued that "the most forward looking" art is transient, ephemeral and resists objectification and commodification. "There is no fundamental reason," he wrote, "why it should be a fixed, enduring object to be placed in a locked case… If one cannot pass this work on to his children in the form of a piece of ‘property,’ the attitudes and values it embodies surely can be transmitted."[1] Kaprow’s stance toward the art object came to be seen as emblematic in the realm of performance art as evidenced by the continued insistence that ephemerality is a defining characteristic of performance.[2] RoseLee Goldberg summarizes the essential points by saying of performance that "although [it was] visible, it was intangible, it left no traces and it could not be bought and sold."[3] Over time, and until the recent past, this perspective, which sets performance against the art object and all of the things that go along with objectification—including commodification and musealization—has become the dominant way of understanding the historical emplacement of performance art and the impulses behind it.[4]
But what if, rather than defining performance as a form that is ineluctably opposed to the object, we instead considered performance art as an artistic genre that necessarily includes and engages with objects and objecthood? What if we viewed performance, not from the perspective of the impossibility of its institutionalization and, specifically, musealization, but accepted it as just another form entering the institution of memory and becoming an "object" of collection, conservation and display? What if performance, by manifesting duration and materiality, cannot be divorced from the object or conceptualized apart from it? What if it is through duration, repetition and repeatability that performance takes on the aura of an object that can be encountered repeatedly at different times and in different places?