In this performance, "Building the future is performing the present," I aimed to confront the challenges I encountered while researching retinal frustration in Marcel Duchamp’s work and how those challenges relate to the broader landscape of contemporary art. This performance was a way to process and reinterpret my academic journey, translating it from a purely theoretical investigation into something more immediate and experiential. By performing this in Brussels in 2020, I wasn’t just presenting a synthesis of ideas, but sharing the strategies I’ve come to develop in order to survive and thrive within the world of contemporary art.

The title itself—"Building the future is performing the present"—captures my belief that the future is not something distant or abstract; it’s actively constructed by how we perform and embody the present moment. The lecture-style setup of this particular performance was deliberate, blending the traditional academic environment with performative elements to critique the way knowledge is typically transmitted in art education and theory. Here, I am both the lecturer and the performer, collapsing the boundaries between intellectual discourse and lived experience. This blurring of roles reflects the internal tensions I often feel between the rigid demands of academia and the fluid, intuitive nature of artistic practice.

The projection behind me, featuring a mountain range, represented the idea that we are constantly trying to build towards an unseen, aspirational future, but often struggle with the weight of the present. Duchamp’s retinal frustration challenges the primacy of the visual in art, advocating for works that provoke the mind over the eye. Through this performance, I sought to embody that very tension—between what can be intellectually understood and what is experienced viscerally, in real time, as a human being navigating the art world.

What made this performance different from a typical lecture was the deliberate performance of vulnerability. While I presented my research and thoughts on Duchamp, I was also performing a kind of personal exposure—sharing how these ideas have shaped my understanding of contemporary art, but also how they have frustrated and challenged me. I wanted the audience to feel the tension of existing within an art world that demands both intellectual sophistication and emotional resilience. At moments, the performance became almost a survival guide—an honest sharing of how I’ve learned to navigate these dual demands.

For me, this performance was about process over product, much like Duchamp’s own approach. I wasn’t delivering a final, polished conclusion, but rather inviting the audience to witness the ongoing process of questioning, learning, and adapting. In some ways, it was an act of defiance against the expectation that artists and scholars must always present neatly packaged ideas or perfect forms. By performing my present—my grappling with theory, my struggles with the demands of contemporary art—I was advocating for a more open-ended and authentic way of being an artist, one that accepts messiness and uncertainty as integral parts of the creative process.

In the end, "Building the future is performing the present" was my way of saying that the future we aspire to build as artists can only be shaped by how we exist in the present moment. It was about acknowledging that survival in contemporary art isn’t just about theory or intellect—it’s about adaptability, resilience, and the willingness to lay bare the complexities of that journey. Through this sensitive reinterpretation of my academic journey, I was able to share not just knowledge, but my own evolving survival strategies for navigating the ever-changing landscape of contemporary art.