The Three Faces of Marina Abramovic: Artist, Spiritualist and Egomaniac

 

 

Marina Abramović, often hailed as the "grandmother of performance art," is as renowned for her artistic innovations as she is for the controversies that have surrounded her career. Over more than five decades, she has carved out an indelible place in contemporary art, testing the boundaries between artist and audience, between body and spirit. Yet, Abramović remains a polarizing figure — revered by some, reviled by others and misunderstood by many. Her legacy stands at the crossroads of brilliance, scandal and an intense preoccupation with self, creating three distinct faces that frame her public persona: the artist, the spiritual mystic, and the egoist — each defining a different aspect of her legacy.

Born in Belgrade, Yugoslavia (now Serbia) in 1946, Marina Abramović's formative years were shaped by the socio-political landscape of post-World War II Europe. The body has always been both her subject and medium. Exploring the physical and mental limits of her being, she has withstood pain, exhaustion and danger in the quest for emotional and spiritual transformation. This particular blend of epic struggle and self-inflicted violence was born out of the contradictions of her childhood: both parents were high-ranking officials in the socialist government, while her grandmother, with whom she had lived, was devoutly Serbian Orthodox. Though personal in origin, the explosive force of Abramović’s art spoke to a generation in Yugoslavia undergoing the tightening control of communist rule.

The Artist: Redefining the Limits of Performance

Her journey as a performance artist began in the 1970s, where she quickly established herself as one of the most radical and fearless figures in performance art. Her work is defined by endurance, vulnerability, and a raw emotional intensity that often puts her body at the centre of the performance.

The tensions between abandonment and control are at the heart of her series of performances known as Rhythms (1973–74). In Rhythm 10 (1973), she plunged a knife between the spread fingers of one hand, stopping only after she had cut herself 20 times. Having made an audio recording of the action, she then played back the sound while repeating the movements—this time trying to coordinate the new gashes with the old. Using her dialogue with an audience as a source of energy. In Rhythm 5 (1974), Abramović lay down inside the blazing frame of a wooden star. With her oxygen supply depleted by the fire, she lost consciousness and had to be rescued by concerned onlookers. In Rhythm 0 (1974), she invited audience members to do whatever they wanted to her using any of the 72 items she provided: feather, rose, honey, pen, scissors, chains, axe, loaded pistol, and others. The performance lasted for 6 hours in which she assumed full responsibility for whatever happened. It began tamely, but by hour 4, her clothes had been cut away, someone pushed pins into her skin, another person cut her throat to drink her blood, various minor sexual assaults were carried out on her body. The performance ended in near disaster when one audience member pointed the loaded gun at Abramović’s head and her own finger was worked around the trigger, a fight broke out between the audience members who intervened ultimately preventing her death. As Abramović described it later: “what I learned was that…if you leave it up to the audience, they can kill you.”

"Rythmn 0" (1974)

 

Her work with Ulay, her artistic and romantic partner for over a decade, also remains iconic. Together, they performed a number of pieces including Relation in Space (1976) where, naked, they ran into each other separately for an hour increasing speed each time - mixing male and female energy into the third component called “that self”. Breathing In/Breathing Out  (1977) For this performance the two artists blocked their nostrils with cigarette filters and pressed their mouths together, so that one couldn’t inhale anything else but the exhalation of the other. As the carbon dioxide filled their lungs, they began to sweat, move vehemently and wear themselves out; the viewers could sense their agony through the projected sound of breathing, which was augmented via microphones attached to their chests. It took them 19 minutes to consume all the oxygen in that one breath and reach the verge of passing out. Rest Energy (1980), a piece where both artists balanced each other on opposite sides of a drawn bow and arrow, with the arrow pointed at Abramović's heart for 4 minutes and 10 seconds, symbolising trust and tension in their relationship. Their dramatic parting in The Lovers (1988), where the two walked from opposite ends of the Great Wall of China to meet in the middle only to break up, solidified their place in art history.

"Rest Energy" (1980)

 

The Mystic: A Journey into Spirituality

After her split from Ulay, Abramović embarked on solo travels to cultures and landscapes she felt were charged with spiritual energy. She trained with Tibetan monks in Nepal, participated in Indigenous rituals in Australia, and spent time with shamans in the Brazilian rainforest. In Brazil, her encounter with Ayahuasca introduced her to a profound connection between the body and the spirit. Through these experiences, Abramović honed an understanding of ritual as a way to transcend the self and access deeper truths.

"Cleaning the Mirror" (1995)

 

Abramović's solo work took on a markedly spiritual dimension. In Cleaning the Mirror (1995), she spent three hours in a meditative ritual, scrubbing a human skeleton in her lap, a symbolic cleansing of mortality. In The House with the Ocean View (2002), she lived in isolation on a platform for 12 days, fasting and meditating, while being observed by the public. For Abramović, this was about purification and transformation — an act of self-discipline meant to transcend the boundaries of the physical self. The Artist Is Present (2010), Abramović’s monumental performance at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, that cemented her status as a living legend. Sitting silently for 736 hours, locking eyes with each visitor who sat before her, she created an intimate, wordless connection with thousands of people. The piece became a cultural phenomenon, a meditation on presence and human connection that resonated far beyond the art world where participants reported feeling as though they were in a spiritual encounter, a powerful testament to Abramović’s ability to transform the mundane into the transcendent. 

"The Artist is Present" (2010)

 

Her mystical influences culminated in her 2015 project, the Marina Abramović Institute (MAI), a space dedicated to exploring the boundaries of human consciousness through long-durational work and meditative exercises. The institute was designed to help others access the kind of spiritual transformation that Abramović herself had pursued. In MAI, Abramović introduced participants to the “Abramović Method,” a series of endurance exercises—walking slowly, counting grains of rice, and experiencing prolonged silence—that mimic her own training in patience, focus, and presence.

The mystical themes that underpin Abramović’s work challenge traditional ideas about art. For her, the act of creating is no longer simply about producing something external, but about fostering an inner transformation. Her spiritual pursuits have given her work a new focus: the dissolution of ego, the confrontation with fear, and the search for meaning beyond the material. “Real art,” Abramović has often said, “is immaterial. It is about understanding the self, the spirit, and the energy around us.”

Marina Abramović on the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury festival 2024

 

Abramović’s spiritual explorations have, however, not been without controversy. Critics have questioned the sincerity of her mystical journey, often seeing it as a calculated aesthetic choice rather than an authentic transformation. Her public embrace of spirituality has led some to accuse her of commodifying sacred traditions for personal fame and financial gain. For example, in The Spirit Cooking (1996), Abramović created a cookbook of symbolic recipes that critics interpreted as cryptic rituals. The work drew fire, especially from conservative groups, who saw it as occult or exploitative. Nonetheless, Abramović maintains that her explorations are genuine attempts to grapple with life's mysteries. She insists that her art stems from a sincere desire to experience and share her personal journey. She has often addressed these critiques head-on, asserting that the backlash only strengthens her resolve to continue pushing the limits of understanding and perception.

The Egoist: A Cult of Personality

Over the course of her career, Abramović has cultivated an identity that blurs the lines between artist and celebrity, positioning herself not only as an innovator in the art world but as a cultural icon. With her characteristic black clothing, severe gaze, and proclamations about the role of the artist as a “sacrifice,” Abramović has leveraged her image to captivate audiences far beyond the typical boundaries of the art world. The carefully constructed persona became an integral part of her performances, creating a kind of “cult of Marina” where the artist’s personality was as crucial to the work as the work itself. Abramović has long been accused of indulging in self-mythologizing, a critique that casts her as an egoist obsessed with her image. Her ability to transform herself into a cultural icon — equal parts artist, guru, and celebrity — has both fascinated and alienated parts of the public.

The very nature of her work, which centres on her own body and experiences, fuels this perception. Whether sitting motionless in a museum or walking across the Great Wall of China, Abramović has placed herself at the heart of her art. Critics argue that this unrelenting focus on the self, even in pieces that claim to transcend ego, suggests a paradox: the performance of ego-dissolution often elevates her persona to new heights. Her autobiography Walk Through Walls (2016), in which she describes her life and work in often dramatic, sometimes self-aggrandizing terms, reinforced this view. She recounts her sacrifices, including multiple abortions to prioritize art, with a certain detachment that left some questioning whether her commitment to her work overshadowed her responsibility to others.

 

Moreover, her frequent collaborations with celebrities — from Lady Gaga to Jay-Z — and her forays into fashion and pop culture have led some to see Abramović not just as an artist but as a brand. This blending of high art with mainstream culture has expanded her reach but has also invited accusations that she is more interested in self-promotion than in creating meaningful work. For her detractors, Abramović’s public persona has become a distraction, overshadowing the art itself. 

 

Legacy: A Complicated Masterpiece

Abramović’s influence on contemporary art is undeniable. Her willingness to embrace her ego, to revel in her own identity as both medium and message, has brought performance art into mainstream consciousness and opened new dialogues about the role of the artist in society. But the cult of Marina Abramović has also raised uncomfortable questions about the nature of artistic fame, the risks of self-centered art, and the lasting impact of a persona-driven career.

As she continues to break boundaries, the line between Abramović’s art and her ego remains tantalizingly indistinct, leaving us to wonder whether her performances are indeed the pure expressions of universal themes or, ultimately, testaments to the power—and peril—of an artist who made herself her greatest subject. The three faces of Marina Abramović — the boundary-breaking artist, the spiritual guru, and the self-obsessed narcissist — form an intricate and often contradictory portrait. Her admirers see her as a visionary who has expanded the very definition of art, bringing profound and challenging experiences to the public. Her detractors view her as a manipulator, someone whose relentless self-promotion undermines the integrity of her work.

But perhaps this complexity is the point. Abramović has always embraced paradox, pushing both herself and her audiences to confront the messy, often uncomfortable realities of human existence. Whether revered or reviled, her place in the art world is secure. As she enters the twilight of her career, it is clear that Marina Abramović’s legacy will continue to provoke, inspire, and incite for generations to come — a testament to her unflinching commitment to art, and to herself. Whether that is a testament to her brilliance or her ego depends on who’s watching.

And perhaps, in the end, that is the ultimate performance.

 

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