Jinker

by Robyn Love
Part of Sound Symposium XXI – July 16-24

Reviewed by Than Brown

Art has a peculiar ability – it imparts meaning that cannot be articulated with words. Jinker, by Robyn Love, is a fine example of this. As a work of performance art that incorporates audio-visual design, costuming, and sculptural elements, Jinker is something experienced, not said. 

In the performance description, Love defines “jinker” as a “Newfoundland term for the age-old patriarchal story blaming a woman for the world’s misery.” This is a role that stigmatizes and outcasts women. A role that the artist takes on and takes over.

My curiosity piqued, I called up a friend and together we went down to the LSPU Hall, where the performance was being held in the Cox & Palmer Second Space. The room was dim, bathed in blue and amber light. Video projections showed images of the ocean and of the artist in costume walking through a rural seaside community. On one wall, in the light of the projector, was a tangled web of what seemed to be washed up excess from the fishing industry. The Second Space was aptly named on this occasion, feeling like another world.

With a chiming sound, Love stepped into the room, resplendent in pale blue tulle, small plastic objects hanging from the hoops of her skirt. “Those were shotgun shells,” I heard someone say after the show, “that the artist collected from the beach.” I recognized the design of the outfit. In the video projected on the wall, Love had been wearing the same thing in solid black. In particular I was drawn to the circular mirror covering her face, leaving only her eyes uncovered.

As the artist rocked and swayed in circles, I was given the impression of the ocean as it meets the land. Between the prerecorded sound art, which enmeshed with the clacking of the shotgun shells and the swishing of the dress, it felt like we were gathered on a windy shore, watching the waves break. As the performance escalated, crashing upon the audience, I found myself drawn to the jinker, yet somehow afraid to even make eye contact.

The whole experience took about ten minutes. “Is… it over?” my friend asked in disappointment. Left wanting more, we crossed the street to The Ship to discuss the show over a beverage. There at the pub I ran into a friend who asked about the performance. “I don’t really know how to describe it,” I replied, knowing I would struggle to impart the impact in a short review, let alone a quick chat while waiting for my drink.

My show-going companion and I were left with a peculiar feeling. We were also jinkers in a sense, experiencing our own forms of stigmatized femininity. I suppose there was something of ourselves in the strange, mirror-faced woman. Behind the “madwoman walking in circles,” to quote the artist’s mid-performance self declaration, was also an inexplicable immensity. It felt like a performance of power, love, danger, and longing. Robyn Love had delivered a call to action in a language we could feel, but not understand. We were glad we met the jinker.

Than Brown is a musician and academic based in St. John’s, NL. They are a masters student at MUN, and are currently finishing a folklore thesis on traditional music and social media. She also plays mandolin, and is involved in widening space for marginalized identities in the folk scene.