At a young age, I began creating and sharing my life through videos I posted, all inspired by what I was consuming online. My internet access altered my perception of what I should create and the video content I produced. I was conditioned to crave something with no real outcome in return: fame and attention.
SUGARCOAT approaches how we can change ourselves for an audience and if we can fully understand the relationship between actuality and staged performance about the internet; sweetening the truth when we want to share and put our lives on public display.
The tendencies I hold to perform and share my life are unclear, I continue to sugarcoat this fact.
If I am creating to impress people as a way of proving my life, will this count if no one is watching?
Obsession is easy when life seems sweet.
In 1840, Hippolyte Bayard created his piece Self-Portrait as a Drowned Man. It is one of the first examples of photography and performance that was a response and critique to an event in his personal life. It had been created not only as a response but also as an artistic declaration of where photography in the contemporary world was heading. This photograph was created through his frustrations with not being taken seriously and his printing process was swept under the rug of Louis Daguerre during this time. He only wished to be seen as an equal to Daguerre and his photographic work to be taken just as seriously. This is one of the first cases in photography’s history that directly raises awareness of an issue through staged dramatic gestures. He pretends to show a version of himself lost to suicide, alongside a suicide note featured on the back of this print. Seeing Bayard directly confronting this theme of death with the use of fictional performances based on real events, my relationship with this piece sparked. This performance only acts as a representation of reality, not truly depicting this. His gesture is not lying to the camera but is lying about his suicide through the context of his performance. He is performing in a way that makes the audience understand where he pulling his emotions from, even if he is not committing any real harm to himself. Not only had he pioneered this then-contemporary way of addressing an issue or dilemma he believed in, but using art as a means of indirect expression, allowing a user to conclude information, rather than it being laid out for them to understand. Circling back to truth within photography, Bayard has allowed for this to be further expanded upon and my recreation of this pays homage to his attempt. He was frustrated to the point that he had resorted to a fictional representation of the worst outcome possible. The camera was rarely seen as a tool of self-expression during this time. Bayard was highlighting possibility rather than truth in a world that was so set as photography only being able to depict reality. Not everything that is performed for the lens is real, yet it truly happens for the image to be produced. Is truth then subjective of what an individual chooses to believe?
Performance has played a critical role in my adolescence and young adult life. At 12 years old, I began creating and sharing my life in a format that became increasingly more public without my child-self understanding. I was growing up in the era of social media influencers and stars being born through sharing video content online, and of course, I was inspired to do a similar thing. How could you not? I watched people in bedrooms similar to mine, getting sponsorships to be themselves for anyone who cared. I saw this as my dream job and learned to edit down my life to just a spectacle, with a sliver of hope that people would pay attention to me.
I ultimately realized I was making videos for myself, but with the underlying notes of clickbait, visual gags, and staples in YouTube editing culture, I had altered my outgoing perception to match one of the changing internet. I craved that attention to get something with no real back in return: fame and attention. I don’t know how I thought my middle school vlogs would get me 100,000 fans, but I put in my all like it was possible at only 12 years old.
I worked and worked at this for 4 years, constantly shoving my iPod camera in the faces of anyone near and willing to cooperate. Learning how to edit, add music, make thumbnails, hyperlinks in the comment section, and the whole influencer package. The gesture alone of having a camera shoved into your face is a loud one, and I was never silent about this fact either. I filmed myself in school, I filmed at home, I filmed on the bus, I filmed at family events. Honestly, no place or person was safe from being uploaded to my 169 subscribers.
I reflect upon this time in my life almost 10 years later and can’t believe that this was my first relationship with both the camera and how I believed I should be performing to an audience. I have to admit it was what I wanted to do then, but why? I understand that I did not know any better as I was being influenced more than I was trying to be an influence. It is bittersweet that I have my life documented to look back on, but at what cost is it worth it when you are filling a mold that was made to be enjoyable, not authentic?
Since then, I have focused on how we can change ourselves for the camera and if we can fully understand the relationship between actuality and performance. Can we ever stop sugarcoating the truth when we want to put our lives on public display?
On October 6th, 2024, I ate as many peanut M&M’s as I possibly could during one sitting and with zero distractions. I fucking love peanut M&M’s with my whole heart. I eat them almost every single day without any second thought. The idea of taking something that you love and displaying it to a viewer can be a vulnerable action. It requires you to let down your guard and invite a viewer to a shared experience. This experience seems simple at its beginning, but the longer I eat, the more uncomfortable this piece becomes for all parties involved. I start struggling to swallow, sweating, and gaps of time to digest are soon required. As I grow more uncomfortable, so does a viewer, now sharing a mutual discomfort for the situation and addressing what this means to physically show overconsumption. I give up at 112 peanut M&Ms.
What started as a personal favorite snack, has developed into an unhealthy consumption, as seen in my performance piece (I fucking love Peanut M&M’s so I ate as many as I could in one sitting (112)) where I push this to an extreme. In conjunction with this video, I began processing my relationship to this specific candy. Only 24 hours after I recorded this piece, I was at the deli yet again buying more stupid peanut M&M’s. From the crunch and the candy coating to the sneaky grin of their big yellow peanut mascot welcoming me at every purchase, I knew I was addicted even with just a thought of them on my mind.
I have outside addictions in my life and honestly began seeing ties between struggles I know are serious and this newfound joke that, in reality, has gone too far. How could I seriously be struggling to quit them, it was like an over-the-counter drug that I could guarantee would make me happy and be at every store on earth.
I then created my M&M Beer Bottles as an iconographical nod to how we view alcohol and drug consumption in conversation with my recent struggle with candy (which is not a drug or a comparable struggle by any grand means). Inspired by this type of social culture in general, beer bottles feel right as they present a shape well known for this conversation, while the packaging reflects an overly commercialized and beloved piece of chocolate. Creating identities to sell this point and gain people, like myself, to form a cult around a simple product. The obsession isn’t because I love chocolate, rather it lies in the fact that this is a part of who I identify as. What I’m addicted to becomes a part of me, I am a Peanut M&M supporter down to my core whether I continue to enjoy it or hate it.
Growing up, all my brothers were addicted to video games and would share a mutual bond over screen time. I would constantly give them shit for using more the one electronic device at a time, a term our household described as “double dipping.” Their approach made no sense as I always would wonder how they could be watching TV and beating a video game campaign simultaneously. Were they absorbing both, or was one simply standing in as filler for when the other would become more boring? I think about this particular relationship in a similar way we have been sharing content online for a vertical format in recent years. We have gone from full-length videos and snippets being sped up for faster consumption, to now two or more videos playing at the same time, all on the same screen. This would seem like it can be a benefit, but with the now popular scrolling format of video platforms, it practically is infinite with can be shown to you. The split screen format has been popularized on TikTok as it allows people to consume this “filler content,” while also possibly absorbing “something educational.” Common examples of what is shown can be seen in the form of TV show plots, ASMR, and even cropped mobile phone video games; always set above the video of what the viewer is “supposed” to learn. This format has become another example of education while it also promotes an unnatural understanding that this type of content will automatically gain you something knowledgeable, whether it’s the top video or the bottom. I have made the piece
Double Dipping (Peter Griffin roundhouse kicking Brian in the face above some of my favorite pieces I have made this year) as a way to directly confront this relationship.
I have been creating new work every week without feeling the urgent need to share this online or keep up on posting my most current projects. Coming out of the frustration of how we share art with an online audience, I use an image from a favorite critique of mine, paired with a family guy clip to “farm” a reaction from those who view the piece. Would people look if it was just an image of my art on the wall or would people simply look at Brian getting roundhoused by Peter over something that I made? I can only hope that is not the case, but at least I got them to possibly pay attention to all my hard work.
What if I invited a viewer into my shoes, will that keep their attention span? I am drawn to physically showcasing how we can view this relationship of viewership and artistry when it comes to performance. What it means to be a performer or a secondary reaction to a performance. What it means to perform for the camera and have an outcome that grants participation without ever needing physical confrontation from that performer.
IPRACTICEADJSETSOYOUCANDANCEANDWILLDANCEFORYOUWHILEYOUPRACTICEADJSET confronts the stability of a recorded performance as both an action and reaction to an assumption of performance.
What does this mean?
If I perform a DJ Set for myself without recording, I am the only person to hear this exact performance that will never be recreated the same again. When I introduce a camera to this as my audience, I now create this new parallel where anyone may view this and cement this performance to be repeated and re-lived more than once when this is shared. With this same mentality I also “perform” a dance for the same amount of time, this being a reaction to listening to music instead of performing a DJ set myself. Through visual clues of unmatched syncopation, a viewer can tell that these are not the same, left with the assumption that these two are separated reactions from each other, but both share the common variable they are cemented in a video to be relived.
From this viewpoint of being in this installation, all parties involved (PERRIN AS DJ, VIEWER AS DJ, PERRIN AS DANCER, and VIEWER AS DANCER) are completely isolated from each other through sound within this piece and are physically brought together through visual recordings of the performance. By eliminating outside distractions with the use of headphones, this sonically places a viewer by themselves within the piece, while still being able to visually watch the side-by-side video pieces and a person standing at the other station. This contrasting absorption creates a false narrative of authentic reaction and action.
INSTRUCTIONS FOR IPRACTICEADJSETSOYOUCANDANCEANDWILLDANCEFORYOUWHILEYOUPRACTICEADJSET:
PERRIN AS DJ cannot see or react to the VIEWER AS DANCER as they are encouraged to dance, but without the gratification of their performer’s reaction. VIEWER AS DJ is invited to DJ and practice for PERRIN AS DANCER but is confronted with the exact reverse feeling as they are showing a fake reaction to their DJ practice.
In the modern day where I view more concerts on my toilet than I do in real life has to be a bad sign. Are we losing what it means to perform to the safety and comfort of knowing that we can look back on this later on? I feel very similarly about this when people record at concerts. They pay money and time to view an artist, only to get to the front of a crowd and shove their phone camera right in the way of anyone standing behind. Besides the obvious disrespect of this gesture as a visual disturbance, it speaks of why concertgoers are not present to their performers. By putting recording and preserving a performance first, how is the viewer to fully pay attention to the performer and how is the performer supposed to appreciate a wave of iPhone flashes and cameras? I’m mad. Even when I DJ, I’m not even an acclaimed one and I still see people dance more for their Snapchat memories than for the way I play my music. To record is a wonderful thing, but we must never forget that live performance came before the creation of the camera.
I truly fear that we are losing what it means to perform with how our cameras come first before our own eyes and how we treat the physical presence of an experience.
Experience can be altered through any medium. Take advice for example. Just because a source online tells you to do something, it doesn’t mean that this is true or correct 100% of the time, we have to use our existing judgment and biases to choose what we take as truth.
A current relatable format throughout the modern internet is the idea of a theme followed by the suffix ‘core’ to describe a certain kind of style, developed further by meme culture and internet showcases. In a more recent development, the example of “Hopecore” has been created to stand for actively seeking out the joys of the world and seeing the better light of the internet.
RELAYING FATHERLY ADVICE (SPONGEBOBHOPECOREPANELS) is based on this meme format of SpongeBob promoting positive or inspirational quotes, formatted through an iMessage bubble. These clip art graphics are placed overtop beautiful scenery to reflect the calming nature of inspirational design. Still, through the altered words and out-of-context cartoon characters, the impact of these quotes loses their traditional meaning, yet wildly understood by younger generations. This has been duplicated and altered over and over again while comments and likes flood these posts, people relate to this icon and treat these posts as if SpongeBob is stating this himself. Despite losing its context, his impact as an icon stretches farther than the part of this piece that “makes it inspirational.”
I find wisdom in my Dad. I find that he might not always know what to say, but as I grow I see that this is not about knowing, but the act of showing up to say something. He preaches what he practices within himself and I have admired that about him since I was a kid. He is known to lean on the motivational speaker side of being a parent, but this is his everyday approach to anything he does. Every single morning he sends or posts a quote of reflection and positivity to bring and share a message he feels strongly about each day. This is genuinely beautiful to me and I would never change this for the world.
I then see this format in which he is creating. He means and has the best of intentions, but the direct act of telling this to someone (which he does often) and posting it to your Instagram story changes the meaning of how one perceives advice. I personally find the truth in his words, but who is to say anyone else will react as similar as mine? This format deconstructs what it means to be genuine, without any action by the user to do so. Does “just because it’s online, doesn’t make it true” even apply to my harmless father posting his inspirations online? That messed up but I can’t help but use his case to question this format.
The messages I choose for SpongeBob and Patrick to be saying are ones from my Dad, text messages of advice he has sent me throughout the past couple of months. I choose to use my own father’s quotes in replace of a preexisting SpongeBob Hopecore example to showcase that authorship is overpowered by format. His words which he meant so much value are overshadowed by familiar patterns and recognizable figures.
As much as my Dad’s advice helps me in my life, I also don’t think I could do this without Spongebob and Patrick too. Those two fucking lil guys run laps around my mind. The major influence of this show can be studied as an entirely separate project. Where I go with this is that SpongeBob is one of the most iconic and recognizable figures to ever be illustrated. He is easy to remember, and knowing the joy this show brings people is unbeatable. They will be remembered for future generations and have made many people my age content with the world. I cannot stress this enough.
As I do stress this enough, my dad’s words are suddenly left behind. It’s what scares me about format trends, words without their meaning to more recognizable things. Is it just because I see SpongeBob bringing me hope that I will then start to incorporate this into my life? I guess I did not listen when my dad said it the first time then.
During the creation of RELAYING FATHERLY ADVICE (SPONGEBOBHOPECOREPANELS), I found these two wooden panels, alongside a frame with glass half sticking out in the trash. Before having an idea of what this would be, I grabbed the materials and hauled them to my dorm. Within this process, I had put so much strain on taking it all in one trip, that I had cut my wrist open without realizing due to the weight. When I arrived at my door, I instantly grabbed the nearest piece of cloth, one that was bought the same day, and covered my wound. Left to the mess of entering the door and blood on my new canvas, I realized at that moment that I wanted to frame this as a gesture to the frame cutting me in the first place. I knew that the time and effort of acquiring this frame had already not been worth what blood was drawn. This duck-taped and half-broken frame was a meer chance at making a print of mine elevated but subjected to its journey of cutting myself after being taken for the trash. I presented this piece, THE COST OF FRAMING ART, with a vision of changing it eventually but leaving it as its performance to remember the reason why I obtained this in the first place.
I think that there lies deep-set roots of this impact, beyond my current comprehension. The compulsions to share my life are unknown to me. Why do my vision and my presence matter in the eyes of others? Do I impress people as a way of setting my existence within my time being alive? I grew up to be a gay musical theatre nerd with a dream to make my life a spectacle. I openly shared a 1/4th of my life to a YouTube audience of 100 people. I swapped my life choices to pursue photography as my career path. This idea surrounds me and I am fortunate enough to be in a position that allows this to be addressed, rather than pushed off.
It was finally in this moment, bleeding out in my art school dorm, that I remembered how much performance warped my life.
PERRiN RiENERT, 2025