There was, and is, a distinction between ego-attached “look-at-me” hijinks and the performance, or placement, or identification of art. Art for no sake other than its own. Ephemeral. Left to experience. Left to memory. Gone.
We remember Fluxus, a precursor to the fountain of conceptual art, and “happenings” to follow. Yoko Ono, Nam June Paik, LaMonte Young, Joseph Beuys, Dick Higgins…musicians, painters, sculptors, writers…following the lead of George Maciunas’ 1963 manifesto. Different from but influenced by Marcel Duchamp & John Cage and elements of Black Mountain College relocating to New York & San Francisco.
Consider Larry Marotta’s contribution- God, Lipgloss and Meat.
So, what, where, and when Fluxus now?
Whatever event inspires, whenever, from the banal to leap through a wall of consciousness and softly whisper…