Anxiety & Persona: The Deaths You Keep On Dying
Mortimer, Be Quiet's Close Quarters
written by _feature_creep_team_


_Close Quarters is from the 2018 debut album Dandelion by Mortimer, Be Quiet. For this essay, I’ll be looking specifically at the music video, released in late 2020. Given this timeline, the song itself (written in 2016 / 2017) is obviously not directly referencing the Covid 19 pandemic. I cannot say for certain that the music video, which features the artist alone inside of a carefully decorated but otherwise empty home, does so either. I can say however, that in the ongoing aftermath of the pandemic it’s nearly impossible (for me at least) to view the work outside of that context.

_To see the artist, sitting alone at home, peering out though curtained windows, while simultaneously singing about the oppressive weight of a crowd of people, leading eventually to the statement “I’m panicking,” is a potent metaphor for lockdown isolation and the anxieties which it instills. The title alone, Close Quarters, which bears the double meaning of both a crowd of people and a claustrophobically small interior space, almost perfectly encapsulates many peoples changed relationships to both personal and social spaces over the last several years. Little touches within the work, such as a dried out plant in an ornate pot steadily dropping leaves onto a carpeted floor, or the white cotton gloves worn by the artist, (simultaneously evoking vintage fashion and sterile medical gear) also point towards something a little bit harder to pin down.

_The song itself describes an oncoming (and eventually fully realized) panic attack striking while one is surrounded by a raucous crowd. As someone who has had this exact experience, I can tell you that it hits completely differently than a panic attack experienced in the privacy of one’s own home. A profound tension sets in, compelling you to maintain a semblance of normalcy and togetherness, (to “pass,” essentially) in a way that feels almost primal, but which simultaneously relies on the use of intricately socialized behaviours and appearances. Not to make light of an experience which I have thankfully never had, the only useful parallel I can think of to describe it would be the way that hostages must sometimes force themselves to act complicit with their captors, under the threat of death or harm. It’s the sublimation of the fight or flight reflex into a mask of not only calm, but often outward enjoyment or excitement. It’s smiling and laughing while your brain and body tell you you’re literally dying.

_In other words, it is a violent break between internal experience and outward persona; something which far too many of us have come to know over the course of the pandemic. Of course, the many causes for anxiety during this time have already been thoroughly discussed. What has not been as discussed however, is the equally many causes we have all had for adopting new, and sometimes unsettling, personas. A prime example of this is the further breakdown of work / life separation which many experienced, in the form of countless all-hours emails and Zoom meetings. The line between one’s work persona (something which neoliberalism has already sadly normalized) and one’s actual self was blurred even further as many lost the ability to ever truly say that they weren’t working; as their work and co-workers and bosses were brought digitally into their homes on a daily basis.

_Another example is the ways in which we had to re-examine and re-invent how we navigated public spaces. Not only were protective measures such as masks and social distancing now necessary, but (those of us with even a basic sense of social responsibility or communality) also had to learn to project our adoption of these measures to those around us; to signal to both strangers and acquaintances that their health and safety mattered to us. These are of course, especially under the circumstances, good things, but they also meant integrating both conscious and unconscious personas into even the smallest moments of our daily lives.

_The contrast between the desperate anxiety of Close Quarters’ music and the almost painfully deliberate and understated gestures of the artist within the video perfectly capture this tension. As we have been overwhelmed by panic and depression, we have simultaneously found ourselves both always and never-quite alone. The already strained personas which we create to protect ourselves in such moments have been stretched past the breaking point, just as the moments themselves have. While our brains and bodies shout at us that we’re dying we find yet further ways to sublimate those deaths into new personas, new anxieties. Fight or Flight becomes Song and Dance, and the music is stuck on repeat.

_Apologies for not delving much into the particulars of the work itself. Partly this is because I am utterly devoid of musical knowledge, but mostly it’s because this work struck me very strongly and very personally as soon as I encountered it, and over many subsequent viewings these (hopefully at least somewhat coherent) thoughts about it have steadily come into focus. Close Quarters speaks to something that has always been relevant (at least within any of our lifetimes) and which is especially relevant now. It’s also an absolute bop, (an expression which will date this article even more than the Covid references) so really what more could you ask for?