A flickering black-and-white projection at The Broad museum in Los Angeles captures a landmark moment in performance art history.
In the 1964 footage, a 31-year-old Yoko Ono sits motionless on the Carnegie Hall stage while strangers approach her with scissors, cutting away pieces of her clothing.
The work, an emblem of the Fluxus tradition, relies entirely on the audience's actions, leaving the artist's body vulnerable to unpredictable whims.
"It is a frightening piece to perform," Ono said.
Museum curators felt that viewing the historical footage second-hand removes the audience from its true impact.
To bring raw vulnerability to a contemporary audience, The Broad organized two live presentations at Redcat theater featuring Los Angeles-based artist MPA.
A New Interpretation
MPA accepted the invitation from Ono's studio with pride and apprehension.
Known for her own durational and political works, she wondered how such a legendary piece could retain its sharpness today.
"Can it still have that sting?" she asked.
Since its 1964 debut, Cut Piece has been performed by various artists, including musician Peaches, while Ono performed it six times between 1964 and 2003.
However, those close to the work caution against viewing these upcoming dates as mere re-enactments.
"Every presentation of Cut Piece is a new performance," said Connor Monahan, Director of Yoko Ono's Studio.
The performance is shaped by its specific context of audience, time, and place, meaning the work never produces a fixed outcome.
Emotional Evolution
During her research, MPA discovered that Ono's relationship with the piece shifted over decades. Early photographs show anxious vulnerability that gave way to composure in later years.
Initial performances were fueled by anger over societal treatment of women's bodies, but the act transformed into a gesture of peace and love.
"When I first performed this work, in 1964, I did it with some anger and turbulence in my heart.
This time I do it with love for you, for me, and for the world," Ono said.
This evolution resonates with MPA, whose own early work includes standing motionless for hours or lying nude on broken glass.
She recognizes a shared history of processing trauma and political struggle through physical endurance.
"I was really working out the anger in my own heart.
I had been raped and violated, and as a young queer person, I felt there were things that we had to fight for to exist," MPA said.
With time, both artists found a more balanced emotional space.
To honor Ono's tradition of offering her best attire, MPA selected garments by designers Victor Barragán and Aliona Kononova, whose work is informed by state-sanctioned violence and war.
She prepared through walking, meditating, and drawing on her experience as a figure model.
"I think still the act of having kind of cool cold scissors on me is going to feel provocative for me, and what that does for the audience, we will have to live and see how it feels," MPA said.
While she harbors minor worries about an overzealous audience member clipping her hair, MPA feels grounded by the quiet authority Ono maintained.
The ability to command a room without speaking remains a testament to the enduring power of live, minimalist performance art.
