
Dennis Oppenheim moved away from performance and body artworks in the mid-1970s toward contraptions, machines, and installations. In Attempt to Raise Hell, he replaces the performing persona of earlier body and action pieces with a puppet figure clothed in a dark suit. Its silvery head with closed eyes and upturned palms protrude from the limply hung clothing, but otherwise its body seems to have withered and disappeared. With a spasmodic jerk the motorized marionette lurches forward, ringing a bell suspended in front of its forehead. The resultant peal is sharper and fuller than we might expect from a mechanism initially so innocuous and toy-like.
In other related works from the mid-1970s, puppet figures dance or lecture, or are victims of mysterious crimes. The activities of these miniaturized persons occur in our world; they are extensions of the artist’s and our own experiences. But the seated figure in Attempt to Raise Hell performs an act that has no parallel in real life. The puppet is not a surrogate. It takes on a will of its own, not unlike an arcade automaton that can write a text or play an instrument. It is less an echo of the artist/performer or his persona than a distinct other who feels no pain and has infinite patience.