Instability, Scattering, Wandering, Success
Lera Lerner is a performance and installation artist, an art researcher, curator, and founder of the Imaginary Museum of Displaced Persons.
The play's text is a reflection on the (im)possibility of accepting diversity and the other.
Entry in the foyer
I understand inclusion in a broad sense as working together to create conditions for equal opportunities and diversity.
In my utopian project, I propose to critically rethink the possibility of connecting to the experience of the other and empathizing with otherness. To represent the practice of non-normative physicality and overcoming boundaries in bodily and mental experience through the ultimate reflection about the body of the tumor and becoming a body with a tumor. To see the tumor outside of common human ethics and mythology through immersion in the polylogue of neoplasms with each other.
We fear and hate what is close to and, at the same time, far from us—what seems dissimilar compared to us, but upon closer examination, turns out to be consonant, with similar needs, a competitor for resources.
This is a utopian project about the possibility/impossibility of accepting the other, about radical hospitality.
The body of the play
Instability, Scattering, Wandering, Success
The fragmented body of the neoplasm—the fruit of unstable conditions—overcomes barriers, loves and denies itself and others, wanders around, forgetting its profession. It frequently and with pleasure divides, goes through dangerous palpation, questions the possibility of contact with the experience of the other. Poorly brought up but very successful, it invites us to a trans-species transition.
Who are you?
I am part of you. I am in you in pedagogy, in soil, in language. I am a neoplasm. I am everywhere.
How did you appear?
I appeared as a result of division in adverse conditions. An error occurred during the division, and I became a more advanced cell with two differences from its neighbors, its fellow brothers. Firstly, I am more like the ancestral form and began to divide easily. And secondly, I became independent from the conditions of existence. All cells live in certain conditions called niches. This concept includes the chemical composition of the environment: access to nutrients, the amount of oxygen; the nature of the relationship with neighboring cells: the quantity and quality of connections between them. Usually, each cell type is tied to its niche. If an ordinary specialized cell somehow finds itself out of its niche, it triggers a suicide mechanism, namely apoptosis.
But I can easily change niches and, even more so, overcome epithelial barriers, enter the bloodstream, spread with blood through various niches, and take root in these niches.
Why are you here?
My existence is both retribution and evolution (development).
In the case of retribution, I argue as follows: every organism is a community of cells, and not only a community of your cells, that is, those that carry your genome, but also a community of symbiont cells. For example, it is a known fact that the number of your cells carrying your genome in you is less than the number of other cells. Therefore, if you are being decomposed into cells now and count the number of eukaryotic, human cells, and symbiont cells, then the number of symbionts will be greater. On the whole, every multicellular organism is a commonwealth, a commonwealth of cells. In the simplest organisms, such as sponges, all cells are more or less the same. There are sex cells or stinging cells that are different, but in general, they are all more or less the same. The more differentiated an organism is, the more different types of cells it has. Sometimes it happens that the body's cells become too specialized, too complex, and neoplasms sort of exit this community of professionals, leave it. Cells of neoplasms are more like ancestral forms, like archaic cells. This means that we are such types of cells that violate the general structure of the body. To some extent, we are retribution for that specialized community, the community of cells that makes up the body. That is the first.
My second reasoning is that we are perhaps at a new stage of evolution. Evolution has always taken place in such a way that some old forms, or division errors, for example, turned into new forms with some new properties. In general, a cancerous tumor is the next step in the evolution of a normal cell. It is an unsuccessful step in evolution in some sense, as it leads to the death of the organism, but in fact, this is a retribution for all biological forms’ strive for improvement. Sometimes they want “what is best,” want to improve and change something, but sometimes this leads to negative consequences. Therefore, this is a retribution for the desire to develop, to strive for the ideal.
This is why the world needs cancerous tumors to remember that development can lead to something good, for example, the ability to divide or survive in different niches, but this has its consequences, such as the death of the whole organism.
Do you choose the sites in the body you enter?
Yes. If you look at the organism as a whole, firstly, it is an organism that is subjected to some kind of negative influence, such as stress, bad mood, despondency, radiation, poisons, solar radiation, and so on. Secondly, the predisposition to the occurrence of a tumor is transmitted to you from parents and their ancestors. There are certain gene mutations that make our appearance more likely.
I mean, when looking at organisms as a whole, I choose either predisposed organisms or those that tend more frequently to live in unfavorable conditions.
Speaking of a particular site in the body, I have preferences where to live. If we look at the sites where I appear and where I move, you can notice that I originated in the skin but did not stay on it, moving instead into the brain, for example. Some sites are most attractive to me. These are sites with much oxygen, many nutrients. If I appear in the skin, I like to migrate and stop in the lungs; I don’t even know why… In fact, different tumors with different characters choose slightly different sites.
If we perceive “site” not as a being or place where I grew up, but as a place where I originated, then again, yes, I choose it too. Because there are certain types of cells and certain organs where I occur—usually there where cells divide more frequently. Sites where constant renewal takes place, for example, the skin, where cells are used to changing, that is, some cells die and others emerge. That is because I appear during cell divisions, which happen more often here, meaning the probability of me appearing is higher. Or sites that are more exposed to sunlight, for example, or contact with food. In Japan, stomach cancer occurs because marine fish contain dioxides. They are present in small amounts, but if you eat a lot of fish, as is typical of Japanese food culture, the likelihood that they affect the stomach cells, which are also constantly renewing, increases.
What is it like—to come there where you are not expected?
Just great. You go where you want, take whatever you want, and don't listen to anyone. Eat what you like, live where you like, and you are indifferent to public approval.
Are you ready to leave from where you are not expected?
No, it's even better there. Why did I go there at all?
How do you get through the fear of rejection?
Precisely because I am a supercell, I have no fear of rejection. It’s atrophied. The mutation happened, and I don't have it anymore.
What is your self-interest?
To conquer everything I like. Usurp everything I like. Not even usurp, though, since no one really fights with me. Well, the immune system does fight, of course, but not very successfully. So yes, capture whatever I want.
And what do you want?
Well, it depends on the tumor. For some of us, it is enough to merely occupy some tiny house and live there. Some want to travel through the body and capture many tiny houses throughout the body. Others want to grow huge and uncontrollable. And some want to know all and everything and sprout everyplace. Depends on the nature of the tumor. Each tumor is individual.
At what moment do you realize that you have succeeded?
It also depends on each specific tumor. If you do a special PCR test now that answers the question of whether there is a tumor in your body, then with a 98% probability, it will show that there is. That is, each person’s body most likely currently contains 1, 2, 3, 10… whatever tumor cells. We can just be tumor cells and not touch anyone. We can be tumor cells that want to grow, but we don't. You may not even notice it. So there are no means—neither MRI nor anything else—that can detect us. I mean, just such small clusters of cells the size of the eye of a needle, and we can stay that way forever. But certain cells want to change places of residence, move from one place to another.
So how can you understand that you have succeeded?
Each has its own goal. Depends on your goal. When you have reached it, then you have succeeded.
Do you have friends?
I make my own friends myself. I constantly divide and, all together, we become one big friendly consciousness. In that sense, yes. On the other hand, we don't care about our friends. We break all ties with each other, and we don't care about friendship.
Do you have enemies?
There are plenty of enemies. The most dangerous of them are T-killers, who are always sniffing out my trail. And when they manage to take my trail, they look for me, approach me, begin to grope me, and if through groping they realize that I am what I am—they will immediately kill me. So I have to be very careful and never to put the so-called antigens outside, the antigens that these T-killers can recognize. It is necessary to smell and feel as similar as possible to ordinary cells. Then the T-killers won't recognize me.
Evil people also do this: they can take a piece of me, determine what antigens I have and subsequently, with the help of special antibodies, make it so that one part of the antibody will determine some of my specific antigens with the same antigen that T-killers recognize firmly sewn to its other part. And that's how they designate me for T-killers. Then T-killers can come, touch me, feel the part that marks me as a tumor cell, and kill me.
What forms can you take?
We all strive for the shape of a sphere. It is the most optimal. I am actually able to change shape, but generally, I'm most comfortable in the shape of a sphere. Because this is the most convenient form for dividing: when a cell divides, it always looks like a sphere in order to make it more convenient to divide. And since I always want to divide, I most often look like a sphere.
What’s your attitude to other organisms?
No attitude. I feel more or less nothing. Well, some viruses can infect me, but in general, since I'm such a super-powerful tumor, I don't really care about them. They are more likely to be a threat to neighboring cells than to me. I don't care about everyone else.
How does your morning begin?
The morning, just like the evening, usually starts with me eating a lot. Tumor cells in the body are easy to recognize because we consume sugar the most. So when mean humans want to find me, they usually mark sugar with something that it can be marked with. Since I constantly eat a lot of sugar, I subsequently become marked myself. So I can be easily found. Therefore, the morning begins with breakfast in the dolce vita style: the more sugar, the better!
What would you wish for the future to those who look at you today?
Everyone has something to learn from me. For example, you need to think less about whether you fit into the environment, think less about whether you have good social connections, and think more about what is interesting to you personally and just keep achieving your goal. As I said, tumors are all slightly different. We all have different goals, but we can all become more or less successful in what we have chosen for ourselves. And we don’t care what a person and other beings say about it—I mean those we inhabit, or other organisms, such as symbiotic organisms. Most tumor cells do not react to them in any way, well, maybe, with the exception of T- killer, of course. Summing up, I wish them to think less about social connections and more about one’s individuality.
What can your way of being teach?
To think less about the consequences, act boldly and decisively, and in the way that only you want. And the rest—blast it all!
What do you feel right now?
Nothing special because nothing bothers me. I only think of myself. And I don't really feel anything about it.
What do you do when it's hard for you?
I do what’s right, come what may. You always have to simply do what you were made for, what makes you strong. If I am a tumor that migrates well, then I have to migrate. If I am a tumor that divides well, then I have to divide. If I am a very secretive tumor that sits well in the thickness of some cells and does not have any identification marks that T-killers can recognize, then I have to just sit there if I like it, if I am fine with it.
Is everything going to be fine?
Well, for me, for sure. But sometimes, what is good today can turn very bad later. So everything is relative. Apropos, this is something that can also be learned from a tumor: if everything is going too well for you, then perhaps the end is near.
Does the tumor have any parting words for listeners?
Listen to yourself, and don't be afraid to do what's good for you. Everything in the world is dust. Nobody is immune from anything. Just do what you want, and that's it. And don't think of anything.
The author is grateful to Dr. rer. nat. Natalia Pashkovskaia for her help working on the text and everyone who took part in the polylogue with the neoplasm.