Rhythm 0 |link| May 2026

Drawing from Abramović’s retrospective accounts (notably her memoir Walk Through Walls ) and contemporary documentation, the performance unfolded in three distinct psychological acts.

Critics (such as art historian Thomas McEvilley) argue that Abramović did not, in fact, have the right to abdicate responsibility. The sign said “I take full responsibility,” but a person under psychological duress cannot give informed consent. Once the crowd turned violent, her ability to withdraw consent (by saying “stop”) was functionally impossible—she was pinned by social pressure and physical intimidation. Furthermore, the presence of a loaded pistol meant a single mistake could have ended her life. Many argue that the artistic statement was not worth the risk of actual death. rhythm 0

Abramović’s refusal to react—no flinch, no scream, no plea—created a terrifying cognitive dissonance. Humans rely on feedback loops to regulate aggression. When a child cries, we stop. When an animal whimpers, we pause. Abramović broke the loop. By remaining a “thing,” she inadvertently invited the audience to treat her as a thing. The tears in her eyes were real, but without a movement to escape, the audience rationalized: She must want this. Once the crowd turned violent, her ability to

The studio environment provided what social psychologists call deindividuation . In a crowd, individual conscience is submerged. The men who cut her clothing would never do so alone. The group provided moral absolution: “I didn’t do it; we did it.” Abramović’s refusal to react—no flinch, no scream, no

Because the sign said “I take full responsibility,” the audience interpreted this as a legal and ethical release. Each act of violence was small, incremental. Cutting a button off a shirt is not murder. Holding a rose is not violence. But over six hours, the accumulation of small cruelties produced a catastrophic whole. No single person felt responsible for the final state of her body.