She did this every day, for hours on end, day after day, week after week, month after month while her exhibit was up.

For 736 hours and 30 minutes.

She never left the chair while the museum was open, and seldom moved more than her neck as she raised her head to look at the person opposite her, then lowering it when they left.

Thousands lined up for the chance to be a part of the performance. Some smile. Some cry. Some stare. Some look away.

Others sit and view the performance for hours on end, transfixed by what is taking place.

"It really resonates how the public completes her work," Akers said.

One of the documentary's most powerful scenes is when her ex-husband, Uwe Laysiepen, takes the seat across from Abramovic.

As she raises her head and recognizes her husband from 25 years ago, it is fascinating to try to read both his face - he, too, was a performance artist who went by "Ulay" - and hers.

But there is unmistakable warmth there.

***

Hers is a strikingly beautiful face, and seems 20 to 30 years younger than her age.