The South African army marginalized Private Steven Cohen, conscripted into the South African Defence Force in his early twenties in 1985. His peers called him “Princess Menorah” because he was Jewish and homosexual. Further, he consistently refused to handle weapons—a stance that earned him additional contempt.
Born in 1962 in Johannesburg, Cohen completed a bachelor of arts in psychology at the University of the Witwatersrand before his call-up papers arrived. While in the army, he also defied regulations by attending silkscreening classes at the Ruth Prowse School of Art in Cape Town, and started his career as an artist by printing fabrics that juxtaposed pornographic visuals with satirical sociopolitical images.
By 1997 Cohen had begun to try performance art, dressing up in inventive and outrageous costumes, binding his penis, inserting sparkler fireworks in his anus, and staggering on heels constructed from oryx horns. Cohen rapidly became more activist in his approach, bravely carrying his in-your-face creations right into the enemy camp: at macho events like rugby matches, horse races, dog shows, Afrikaans political rallies.
Demonstrating an approach that strikes a dynamically uneasy balance between sensitivity and insensitivity, vulnerability and defiance, Cohen’s performances often provoke heated debates and hostile confrontations.
In the case of Chandelier (2001–02), Cohen opened himself up to accusations of denigration and exploitation by performing in an informal settlement among people who were watching their makeshift homes in downtown Johannesburg be pulled apart by the notorious “red ants,” men in red overalls hired by the municipal government to implement the removal of squatters and their possessions. Cohen was wearing a chandelier adapted into a self-lighting tutu for his visit to the settlement, but he had not known beforehand that the “red ants” were going to be there.
In a more recent work, Cleaning Time . . . a shandeh und a charpeh (a shame and a disgrace) (2007), Cohen performed what was primarily a commemoration to the Jewish people of Vienna who were forced to clean the streets with toothbrushes during the Holocaust. With a Star of David on his chest, a World War II standard-issue gas mask covering his groin, and a diamond-capped dildo held neatly in his anus, the artist scrubbed the streets and pavements of Vienna with a giant red toothbrush until his performance was stopped by a policeman who led the artist away.
Cohen’s selective accessories signified historically stereotypical aspects of “Jewishness”: the horn, the malformation of his feet, and the diamond, a sign of hoarded wealth. Cleaning Time exemplifies the shrewdly backward logic that enables Cohen’s performances to challenge prejudiced or racist fantasies through their enaction.
Cohen leaves his works open to failure and a range of divergent reactions or interpretations: admiration, anger, a transposed humiliation, confusion, wonder, fear, or even the reactionary attempt to censor. Rarely is there the confidence of a mutually conclusive understanding.
Chandelier 2002–04
Performance in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York
Photographer: Mario Todeschini
© Steven Cohen
Cleaning Time (Vienna) . . . a shandeh und a charpeh (a shame and a disgrace) 2007
Three interventions on DVD
Photographer: Marianne Greber
© Steven Cohen
Cleaning Time (Vienna) . . . a shandeh und a charpeh (a shame and a disgrace) 2007
Three interventions on DVD
Photographer: Marianne Greber
© Steven Cohen