Insecurity is a performance in which two security guards sleep on the floor in a dimly lit room, during the opening hours of the exhibition. There is a projection on the wall of a tree that was cut down to a stump after the 1998 Montreal ice storm, but sprouted many new branches, apparently not understanding that it was supposed to stop being a tree.
The performance took place in the context of the exhibition 48 hours / 48 rooms. A rooming house had been emptied out and was waiting to be transformed into a residential condo project.
Positioning figures of authority as vulnerable goes against the grain. The security agents are not just nodding off in a chair while on the job, they are sleeping on mats on the floor, and have left the door open. The world is free to do as it likes while the agents of control are taking a break. Where does our sense of security lie? Perhaps they are the security guards of sleep, making sure that the dreams don’t get out of hand.
The presence of the tree problematizes the tendency of voyeurism on the part of the viewer, and thus a simple inversion of power relations. It stands as a silent witness to the relationship between the viewers and the performers and is a direct metaphor for resistance.