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“We Both Cried, but for Completely Different Reasons”

Jeannette Fischer's book with and about performance artist Marina Abramović was recently republished. In a conversation, the Swiss psychoanalyst provides insights into how this extraordinary publication came about

“Jeannette and I are sitting here in the barn of my house in Hudson. It's August 13, 2015. We are wrapping up our four days of conversations, during which we discussed so many topics. We are thinking about the book that will come out of this. I look at my notes and say, 'It's about the triumph of violence.' And Jeannette repeats, 'Yes, really, it's about the triumph over violence.'”

These lines greet the reader upon opening the book Psychoanalyst Meets Marina Abramović, published 2018 in German and English by Scheidegger & Spiess. The tone suggests a deep sense of trust between the two women during the creation of the work, which has recently been republished in a new edition.

But how did the project come about in the first place? And how did this four-day meeting unfold? Did it involve what we laypeople might consider boundary-pushing experiences—after all, the conversation revolved around such topics as violence, power, and powerlessness, which are the specialties of the Zurich-based psychoanalyst. To explore these and other interesting aspects of the “making of” this book, we sat down with Jeannette Fischer for an interview.

Ms. Fischer, since this project is based on a close and quasi-familial relationship between Marina Abramović and yourself, may I ask who took the first step?

(laughs) That was me. But I must preface that with the fact that we had known each other for twenty years by that time. And over this long period, we had repeatedly tried to collaborate on something or other.

Given that it took so long to materialize, I assume you must have devised a precise strategy to finally succeed.

No, not at all. On the contrary, it happened entirely naturally. At some point, I had the idea for this series of conversations about psychoanalysis and art. I spontaneously wrote to her, and she immediately agreed.

Perhaps because there was already a basis of trust?

That certainly helped. The first time I ever noticed Marina’s art was during the 1998 exhibition Artist Body. Public Body at the Kunsthalle Bern. I called her on the spot and asked to speak to her privately. In that conversation, she quickly became interested in psychoanalytic ideas. Since I was equally interested in her psychologically and physically extreme performance art, our first meeting was also the beginning of our friendly relationship. And over the years, many more meetings followed.

However, the one in the summer of 2015 at Abramović's house in Hudson, New York, unquestionably held a special significance. In sports, one prepares for great challenges through targeted physical and mental training. What was your preparation for these conversations?

I must admit: I didn't prepare at all.

Pardon?

(laughs) Actually, my only concern was missing my flight. Apart from that, I was completely relaxed; after all, in all my years of practice, I’ve learned to conduct conversations through free association . . . knowing that this method would cause neither her nor myself any stress.

And it worked?

It did. They were four very intense days . . .

. . . but you weren't together around the clock?

No, we had made a very clear arrangement. We agreed to start our conversation at roughly the same time each morning, always in the same room and on the same chairs. We would have a shared lunch break. But we also agreed that we’d give each other space outside of these times.

Jeannette Fischer

Jeannette Fischer started frequenting Freud’s couch and exploring her unconscious together with her psychoanalyst during her degree in Comparative Religious Studies. This work would prompt her to change careers: from 1986 to 2016, she worked as a Freudian psychoanalyst with her own practice in Zurich., where she extensively explored questions of violence, power, and powerlessness. She curated exhibitions, directed two documentary films, and published the book Angst – vor ihr haben wir uns zu fürchten (Fear—We Have Reason to Fear It; Klostermann Verlag) in 2018. In addition to her book with Abramović, Jeannette Fischer also published Psychoanalyst Meets Helene and Wolfgang Beltracchi in 2022 (Scheidegger & Spiess). In the past year, she has also released the books Hass (Hate) and Was ich begehre ist bei mir – Narziss and Narzissmus (What I Desire Is within Me—Narcissus and Narcissism), both from Klostermann. (tw)

The preface mentions that Ms. Abramović wanted you to explore her soul. As a layperson, I have to ask—how does one do that?

Marina’s hope for these conversations was for her to understand herself. This is because she is purely intuitive when she creates her performances. She has an idea, an inspiration, and she follows through with it—without being able to explain to herself why she does it, and without evaluating or reflecting what she does on an intellectual level. We ultimately achieved this goal.

Marc Philip Seidel was also in the room with you, though. Didn't his presence disturb the intimate setting?

On the contrary, his presence contributed to our relaxation. Firstly, because Marc Philip, who is a good friend of mine, took care of the recording technology, which is something that always throws me off. Secondly, he helped out as a translator—my English isn’t exceptional. I understood Marina quite well, but he was able to add some important nuances. Apart from that, with Marina, everything is public anyway—always, regardless of how intimate it is. That’s part of her art, part of her success. Therefore, his presence didn't matter to her at all.

You mention her art, which—to put it bluntly—often veers into the extreme. Were there any extreme moments during these four days together?

There were hardly any during the conversations themselves. I simply asked her questions and let her talk. After that, I transcribed everything and had it translated. Only then did I start my interpretation of what she had said. Following our agreement, she would then receive the manuscript and give her approval—or not.

“With Marina, everything is public anyway—always, regardless of how intimate it is. That’s part of her art, part of her success.”

“With Marina, everything is public anyway—always, regardless of how intimate it is. That’s part of her art, part of her success.”

Jeannette Fischer

What was her reaction to your interpretations?

I wanted to read them to her in person; it was important to me that she heard these interpretations from me personally. So I traveled to New York once again, we met, she had prepared coffee, tea, and pastries, then she laid back on a sofa and told me we could start. In that moment, I was extremely nervous.

Why?

Because I had worked on it for nine months . . . and if she had rejected it, the project would have been dead, that much was clear to me.

Simply leaving out what she didn't like . . .

. . . wasn't an option for me, no, never. Her rejection would have meant the end, out of respect for her and for our friendship.

How did the reading go?

It was intense. I read and read and read, and apart from two small remarks, she didn't react at all: no comments, no facial expressions, no gestures. Did she like it? Or did she find it terrible? I had no idea. So I read for about three-and-a-half hours straight, with only a ten-minute break in between.

And then?

Nothing, at first. A pause that felt endless. Then she stood up, started crying, and threw herself into my arms. I started crying too. We both cried, but for completely different reasons. For her, it was because she felt completely understood, as she told me . . . and for me, it was a mix of exhaustion and relief, and most of all, joy about Marina's reaction.

If someone were to say that this book is essentially a well-executed baring of the artist’s soul—an exclusive “tell-all,” so to speak—what would you respond?

That the person making that statement doesn't know much about Marina Abramović's art. Because in each and every performance, she reveals her innermost self. And all I did was bring that onto a psychoanalytic level. “Soul-baring” would be fitting if the book contained something shameful or compromising. But that's not the case. It presents what she does or has done translated into psychoanalytic mechanisms. If she had interpreted it as some kind of noxious “tell-all,” she wouldn't have agreed to the book. That’s a concept that doesn’t really exist for her anyway: she is the artwork; everything she does is performance. Therefore—but this is just my assumption—she probably also saw this project as a kind of performance.

Was the project also a risk for your friendship?

There were two possibilities, fundamentally. If she had simply said no to publishing the text, it wouldn't have changed anything in our relationship for me. However, if she had found the content so terrible that she couldn't identify with it or see herself in it, there would have been a risk of her distancing herself from me.

Who is the book intended and made for?

Since I didn't have any intention in mind, I can't really answer that. Fortunately, many people reached out to say that they could identify with the content in many places. So the target audience really emerged through the publication itself (laughs). But primarily the book is our baby, and it brings joy to the both of us.

Interview by Thomas Wyss

Marina Abramović meets Jeannette Fischer

Psychoanalyst meets Marina Abramović

Artist meets Jeannette Fischer