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| Non-Fiction | Commissioned by the Office for Contemporary Art, Norway,New Institutionalism, 2003 | |||
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Beginning with a consideration of ‘Life/Live’ and building an overview of subsequent endeavours – together with the stated aims of the organisations – I intend to examine the shifting relationship between artist-led initiatives and the art establishment. This involves a discussion of the broad spectrum of approaches by the artists and, to some extent, the host institutions in order to analyse the results of the process whereby artists are being invited into the museum and examine what each party has to gain – or lose – from their collaborative efforts. In what would seem to be a direct response to these new kind of institutional relationships, there is also clear evidence of smaller publicly-funded European institutions adopting the methods of artists, including local political engagement and process-based strategies – to reshape their own ways of working. While many of the individuals and organisations under discussion here are known to me personally, I shall try to objectively study some examples of this trend and examine the cause and effect in terms of the relationship between artistic practice and the institutions. For the purposes of this text, the artworld may be envisaged as a microcosm of the current world order. By referring to institutions, I mean the museums, galleries, biennales and, to an extent, educational mechanisms that make up the art establishment. Large institutions often function in much the same way as global corporations and one only needs to look at the transnational Guggenheim brand to see that this is the case. One of the greatest risks of global business practice is the impact it has on local communities. Global media corporations buy up small, local television channels in an effort to control local programming by marketing cheaply produced imports while global fast food outlets seek to replace local cuisine to the extent that local restaurants try to ape the imported food to retain their popularity. So, when art institutions begin to behave in this way, we must be vigilant that local culture and funding for small local initiatives is not undermined. * As the majority of the spaces under consideration at the time of ‘Life/Live’ did not survive the gentrification process of the 1990s (in some cases to be replaced by others), this specific period of maverick activity must sadly now largely be referred to in the past tense. Considered retrospectively, the general trend of alternative spaces in the late 1980s and early 1990s in Britain was of an unpaid group of people, surviving on unemployment benefit and part-time work, using every means possible to produce exhibitions. The spaces available to them for low rent were, before the developers moved in, generally those unsuitable for any other purpose. All but the most sophisticated were not in receipt of any public funding and, as a result, only opened their doors to the public over the busy weekend period. The methods by which artists were selected for exhibitions were as diverse as the programmes themselves, which tended towards non-thematic group shows. Often, the original motivation for these ventures was an exercise in self-promotion in the absence of any established galleries offering opportunities for the artists involved. These were avowedly social spaces, centred on the alcohol-fuelled private views and, in the best case scenario, this was complemented by a lively events programme. An informal network was established that often yielded international exchanges of artists between different spaces. This process continues today and, at the time of writing, such an exchange is taking place between Transmission and Signal in the southern Swedish city of Malmö. In 1991, Glasgow-based artist Ross Sinclair noted that
artist-led initiatives defined their own terms for how work should be
made and shown and, particularly when occurring outside London, were most
successful when dealing with a specifically local context rather than
aspiring to adopt the language of the commodified centre: Any retrospective consideration of ‘Life/Live’ usually includes a mention of the young British artist (yBa) phenomenon, whereby a handful of artists participated in creating their own mythology and achieved international attention. The core of the constantly mutating yBa group (most of whom exhibited in ‘Life/Live’) is taken as the graduates from Goldsmith’s College in London who – motivated partly by their predecessor Julian Opie being signed up by the influential Lisson Gallery – organised a series of warehouse exhibitions between 1988 and 1990 (‘Freeze’, ‘Modern Medicine’, ‘Gambler’), together with Carl Freedman and Billee Sellman. I mention this now for two reasons. Firstly, because this do-it-yourself ethos inspired and permeated many of the initiatives that were to follow – the floodgates were opened for recent graduates to organise exhibitions for themselves in the many buildings left vacant by the recession. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, at the time of my research for the ‘Life/Live’ text, Carl Freedman spoke openly about the willingness of sponsors to be part of a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is by now well documented that, far from being innocent, youthful forays into independent exhibition-making, the early yBa projects were supported, both morally and financially, by, among others, Charles Saatchi (who would acquire and popularise much of the work) and Norman Rosenthal (Director of the Royal Academy). The pair would go on to collaborate in 1997 on the blockbuster exhibition ‘Sensation: Young British Artists from the Saatchi Collection’ at the Royal Academy. (3) The start of the tour in London attracted 285,737 visitors paying £7 for a full price ticket, generating more than £2 million in admission fees alone and significantly boosting the provenance and value of the Saatchi collection, thereby adequately consolidating their earlier investment. If we compare the precedent outlined by Ross Sinclair to the approach of the yBa generation, a dialectic for artist-led activity emerges, with total autonomy from institutional hegemony on the one hand and willing collaboration in return for commercial gain on the other. I will use this metaphor throughout this text in order to examine these relationships more closely. * Eight artist-led initiatives were invited to participate in the main part of ‘Life/Live’. They represented a diverse cross-section of the UK scene whose inception, in some cases, pre-dated the yBa phenomenon. BANK began life as a four-person graduate collective (Dave Burrows, John Russell, Simon Bedwell and Milly Thompson) based in London. Peaking in the second half of the 1990s, their collaborative object-making (typified by the papier maché dummies of ‘Zombie Golf’) was inextricably linked with extreme exhibitions, toying with context in a swimming pool or covering everything with fake snow (‘Cocaine Orgasm’), sometimes involving people outside the group. Self-appointed arbiters of the artworld, they parodied its insidious mechanisms, through projects such as ‘Dog-u-Mental’ and ‘Fax-Bak’, a service by which they corrected the hyperbole of press releases and returned them to their authors. Cairn Gallery, perhaps the most obscure of the choices for invitation, was founded by writer Thomas A Clark in Gloucestershire as a space for contemplation. City Racing was run by a committee of artists (John Burgess, Keith Coventry, Matthew Hale, Paul Noble and Peter Owen) in a former betting shop/terraced house in south London between 1988 and 1998. They diversified from showing their own work into offering exhibitions to artists who generally would not have the chance to show their work in London otherwise. Throughout the 1990s, this became the main point of reference to find out about emerging artists in London. In a low-key domestic setting (the building was variously a home to some committee members), typically Sunday evening opening events were populated by dogs and often spilled over into the garden. In keeping with their ethos, for ‘Life/Live’, the City Racers offered first shows to artists and punctuated their works with exposed plumbing to disrupt the slickness. This was accompanied by a running commentary of their history from memory by City Racing devotee Douglas Park. Cubitt Gallery was attached to a studio complex and each of the artists in the studios had an obligation to be involved with running projects for the gallery, although inevitably some were more proactive than others. At the time of ‘Life/Live’, Matthew Higgs was actively involved in Cubitt, and another of his projects, Imprint 93, a photocopy/mailout project, was also selected for inclusion into the exhibition. In the mid 1990s, Max Wigram invited curators to make projects for the ground floor of a family-owned house in one of the most expensive parts of central London just off the King’s Road, which he called the Independent Art Space. For ‘Life/Live’, Wigram commissioned Carl Freedman to undertake a project which became English Rose, a film in which the three main female protagonists of the yBa scene – Tracey Emin, Georgina Starr and Gillian Wearing – pretended to be each other. Newcastle-based organisation Locus+ evolved from a more event-based practice. Their relatively conventional presentations in Paris – by Stefan Gec, Gregory Green, Cornelia Hesse-Honegger and Paul Wong – showcased a number of their recent commissions. Finally, Transmission took the opportunity to exhibit work by five artists – Heather Allen, Martin Boyce, Roderick Buchanan, Sue Tompkins and Richard Wright – who had a close relationship to Transmission at that time. Since mid 1989, Transmission has occupied a roughly square generally white space at the eastern side of Glasgow city centre, the aesthetics of the exhibition programme changing with the committee every two years and this was typical of that period. In reflecting on ‘Life/Live’ seven years after the event, I asked Hans Ulrich Obrist, co-curator (with Laurence Bossé) to explain what motivated their decision to invite artist-run spaces to participate: Our main inspiration to invite Artist Run Spaces in Life/Live was the idea of shows within the show, the Russian Matriuschka kind of thing, it was Hakim Bey’s book on TAZ [the temporary autonomous zone] but also more importantly urbanists like Lucien Kroll, Cedric Price, also de Carlo and Yona Friedman and their ideas of SELF ORGANIZATION, the curator not as a master planner, similar to the urbanist not as a master planner who controls but to trigger complex dynamic systems with feedback loops, it was Heinz von Foerster’s books it was of course the conviction out of many conversation with artists and curators in the UK that these spaces played such a vital role, it was last but not least and most importantly my incredible experience at Transmission in the early 90s. (4) Obviously, this decision was predicated on enthusiasm
and respect but is it entirely genuine to say that the curators are relinquishing
their role as master planner? Admittedly, they could not control what
the individual initiatives chose to present but, by confining their activities
to small, pristine booths, much of the spirit of the original activity
was arguably lost, and the members of City Racing subsequently described
their considerations upon being invited to be involved in the museum element
of ‘Life/Live’ thus: Museums of Modern Art wield huge influence in cultural centres around the world and Paris is no exception. As the feelings of City Racing show, there was a huge disparity in scale between their low-key activities and those of a huge museum. We mustn’t forget that there was much talk about Brit Art in those days and the Paris museum was among the first to present such a huge exhibition in an international context. By including artist-run spaces in their selection alongside a more conventional exhibition of artworks, they could outdo their competitors by presenting a more thorough survey and they were keen to stress in the subtitle of the exhibition that this covered the artistic scene, which gives a bigger picture than just a group of exhibiting artists. Much has changed since ‘Life/Live’ opened
in October 1996. Many of the spaces have closed and the associations dissolved.
BANK, Transmission and City Racing have consolidated their place in history
by archiving their adventures in book form. In his foreword to the 2002
City Racing publication, Andrew Wilson quietly resigned himself to the
assimilation of artist-led initiatives into the establishment, citing
commercial galleries as the first on the scene: * Viewed with hindsight, City Racing can be thought of
as pioneers in embarking on collaborations with established institutions.
In 2001, after their space had closed, a selective history of their activities
was compiled by Associate Director Matthew Higgs at London’s Institute
for Contemporary Arts (ICA),(7) a publicly funded,
ostensibly experimental space where, arguably, artists at the beginning
of their careers should be seen. The related ICA publicity material for
‘CITY RACING 1988-1998: A Partial Account’ discussed recent
history in parallel with the yBa scene. The rhetoric used about the exhibition
is replete with descriptions of the energy around the space during its
ten year history: The starting point for the project was the partiality
of the account, with an outside curator perhaps inevitably being more
partial to some artists than others. According to Paul Noble of City Racing
this project was very much the initiative of Matthew Higgs and the City
Racers were only involved in a couple of meetings at their instigation
to raise concerns that they had: Additionally, the notes related to the project, while attempting to justify the limitations of their survey, elaborated that the exhibition ‘seeks to foreground the notion that any development within any artistic milieu is ultimately reliant upon shared dialogue and mutual exchange.’ (10) It seems, however, that in this case that exchange did not take place. What could those members of the ICA audience not familiar with City Racing and its unique context, dialogue and exchange hope to gain by seeing these works – which were exciting new commissions when first realised – when installed in this way, with the site-specific works necessarily edited out of the selected highlights? Who stands to gain in the process of collaboration – was it a case of the ICA appropriating the research and kudos of City Racing in particular and artist-led initiatives in general? Or had art finally come home to roost, with the artists having been excluded from institutions like the ICA finally being offered a chance to show there? I guess the persuading factor for us to go along
with Matthew's proposition was embarrassingly straightforward. One of
City Racing's simplest goals, to give visibility to unseen work, could
be met. We knew that the multifunctional ICA could never reflect the fragilities
and particularities of City Racing, but I guess we were not expecting
the ICA City Racing to replace the original - which unfortunately did
seem to happen. It was the moment for City Racing to be discussed as a
whole, but the discussion seemed to be defined by Matthew's particular
or 'partial' view. The main motivation would seem to be gaining access to a wider audience when artists participate in this kind of exchange. In the case of City Racing, the benefit of exposure was conferred on the exhibiting artists, albeit those with enough of a reputation to appear in the selective exhibition, rather than the original artist-organisers (some of whom boycotted the exhibition opening). While the ICA could not be described as a huge institution, having just one branch in London, it is nonetheless a faceless operation that increasingly markets itself as the rightful heir of the yBa legacy. ICA director Philip Dodd was recently quoted in The Guardian in an article that reads ‘Charles Saatchi’s huge and much-hyped new art gallery was dismissed yesterday as a ‘monument to the 90s’, hopelessly out of touch with the rising wave of DIY and ‘bedroom’ art’. (12) It would seem that hosting projects like ‘CITY RACING 1988-1998: A Partial Account’ proved an important foundation for the ICA’s vanguard claims. While public institutions did little to support this initiative at the time, the efforts of five artists occupying a house and for a decade inviting their contemporaries to make and show new work, has retrospectively been claimed as the flip side of Cool Britannia and used as part of marketing strategies. The cynical among us may ask why such public institutions didn’t do more to challenge the Saatchi-driven ethos at the time by actively supporting the production of new work and, in turn, why the British government was quite happy to jump on the yBa bandwagon to promote London as a cultural centre and encourage overseas investment in the capital at the expense of any serious investment into the local visual arts scene. * In parallel with City Racing at the ICA, Tate Modern,
hosted ‘Century City’, (13) which ‘explored
the relationship between cultural creativity and the metropolis, by focusing
on nine cities from around the world at specific moments over the previous
hundred years.’ (14) Tate Modern, the new
bastion of the British artistic establishment, is the fourth franchise
in the Tate group (also including Liverpool and St. Ives), its very existence
necessitating a corporate-style rebranding of the organisation to differentiate
the existing London department as Tate Britain. Five years after ‘Life/Live’,
it had become established practice to attempt to represent the independent
arts scene when considering the artistic output of a particular nation
state or city and this was no exception. Included in the portrayal of
London (1990-2001) alongside the yBas was a consideration of artist-led
initiatives: Again, the host institution has done nothing to support indigenous activity but is content to claim the artists’ output as its own, harnessing their means of production. For City Racing, the jump from ICA to Tate takes the discussion into a different league, into the territory of the British cultural superpower. Although they have a more positive memory of their dealings with Tate Modern, as an audience member, my impression was that the attempt to describe a decade of artistic activity in a city like London – with artist-led initiatives being represented by archive material and vitrines – was inadequate So, if the criterion for their inclusion was not to represent their activities in the best possible light, what other motives could there be? Again, the answer for both parties would seem to lie with audiences. For City Racing, the change of venue meant a one hundredfold increase in the size of audience who would become aware of their activities. It is probably a reasonable assumption that the average Tate Modern visitor is unaware of the precedents for this kind of exhibition making, never having visited the ICA, and would greet this as a fresh and interesting approach, with added appeal for younger audiences. As with any large corporation, there is a question of accountability and the Tate machine is notoriously opaque. Official attendance figures (that are not freely available) show that ‘Century City’ attracted 106,067 visitors and that the full price of the adult ticket to the exhibition was £8.50. Assuming that the total value of discounted tickets would have been supplemented many times over by various merchandise around the exhibition and money spent on refreshments within the building, this amounts to almost £1 million in admission fees alone. If we follow the market analogy with this example, it is clear that the commodity for sale is culture, with artist-led initiatives powerless to resist and standing to gain nothing financially. Of course, this is by no means a new phenomenon. As the
preface to a conversation with members of City Racing, BANK and Beaconsfield
in a 1998 issue of the magazine ‘Variant’, Dave Burrows noted: To what extent are the artists complicit in this process?
Does experience suggest that independent organisations only exist because
they aspire to be shown in the museum but don’t have any access?
Are they hoping to replicate the yBa model and, through their complicity,
generate commercial recognition and success? Steven Duval – an active
member of the Edinburgh College of Art branch of the educationally sceptical
protoacademy, (17) initiated by Charles Esche in
1998, which recently hosted a convention of artists’ groups –
has this to say: * The emergence of the artist as curator demystified the
process of exhibition-making to a generation of artists. Moreover, in
addition to developing the practical and organisational skills necessary
to mount an exhibition, these artists had the added benefit of working
with their equals, in a situation without hierarchy. One would presume
that this would lead to some kind of crisis among aspiring and established
curators alike as their inherent worth was called into question. In parallel
with these developments in the artistic community, a new breed of curators
was being born. In 1992, the Royal College of Art initiated a new course
in Visual Arts Administration under the directorship of Teresa Gleadowe,
with a nod to strategies beyond the institution: It is a requirement of the course at the Royal College
of Art that an annual exhibition is planned by the proto-curators for
the in-house galleries. In 2000, the students of the course, under the
tutelage of Matthew Higgs, curated the exhibition ‘democracy!’
and clearly wanted a part of the artist-led action: (20) ‘Contradiction in terms’ it is a somewhat polite way of saying harnessing the means of production of alternative spaces. We can think of this exercise as follows: From their place firmly within the art establishment, Teresa Gleadowe’s protégées invite artists such as Aleksandra Mir, Jeremy Deller and Dave Muller and artists’ groups from Superflex to Minerva Cuevas’ Mejor Vida Corp to exhibit that have adopted strategies to deliberately resist those big institutions. This kind of activity has its parallel in information technology companies hiring computer hackers (in the old sense of the word) to work for them. The question that should be asked, again, is what the artists get out of this exchange. The individuals and groups in question are, more than the initiatives considered so far, supposed to have resisted institutions as a deliberate and conscious part of their practice so they must be considered as willing participants in this game. What makes them want to jump into bed with the establishment? To some extent, this question remains rhetorical as I have not yet received a convincing answer. * The year after the exhibitions at the ICA and Tate Modern,
the 2002 Gwangju Biennale in Korea, (22) curated
by Wan-Kjung Sung, Charles Esche and Hou Hanru was divided into several
different Projects, allowing maximum scope for the incorporation of artist-run
spaces: Content ranged from slick presentations (Signal, Transmission)
to the messier aesthetics we might expect from ‘alternative’
spaces (Artis Pro Active, University Bangsar Utama), that give the impression
of process and dialogue. Somewhere in between, Project 304’s Mosquitoooo
Net was typical. A square painted on the floor, a corresponding mosquito
net hung from the ceiling and the Project 304 graphic identity demarcates
the territory for action. This then allowed a loose configuration of video
monitors and benches, a contemporary re-working of a Dan Graham Design
for Showing Videos. The installation conferred a freedom through stylistic
choices that perhaps the curators did not feel able to take themselves.
In an attempt to foreground the inclusion in the biennale of 26 artist-run
spaces from Asia, Europe and beyond, Hou Hanru championed artist-led activity
as a counterpoint to pervasive Empire, the local influencing the global: Despite the fact that intercontinental networks of spaces
already exist, the inclusion of artist-run spaces into the biennale was
predicated on networking: As we have already seen and as is acknowledged here, exchanges between artist-led initiatives have consistently taken place without any outside intervention. Perhaps what was on offer on the part of the biennale was increased mobility, providing the opportunity for even more groups to come together in one place. Significantly, Hou acknowledges the continued dominance of the art institutions and finds in their relationship to artist-led initiatives a parallel with that between multi-national corporations and non-governmental organisations (NGOs). It is interesting that he chooses NGOs – special interest groups with little power or inclination to disrupt the status quo – as a model for artist-led initiatives. If the hegemony of the big institutions is to be held to account, artist-led initiatives around the world would need to be thought of in the same terms as members of what has come to be known as the Global Justice Movement. The British writer George Monbiot makes a compelling case for global democracy on the basis of people around the world coming together to put pressure on organisations – from the World Bank to the United Nations Security Council, which effectively protect the interests of the most powerful nation states – and corporations that operate on a non-democratic basis.(26) By this rationale, the small groups of artists under discussion are relatively democratic and could collectively lobby for a fairer system, including at the very least increased investment in developing their work, more control over the dissemination of their efforts and a share of the profits when their output is sold to audiences. * Following the Gwangju experience, Charles Esche organised
a project called Baltic Babel under his directorship at Rooseum in Malmö27
Eight cities (all capitals, with the exception of St Petersburg) around
the Baltic sea were represented in Malmö (itself not a capital, situated
just across the water from Copenhagen) through their artist-led initiatives.
This project was accompanied by the most explicit understanding yet of
the role of artist-led initiatives in local communities and their political
potential: The subtext of the statement would seem to be that Rooseum should not be viewed as one of the ‘central institutions’ and it is fair to say that institutions like this are more benign than the Tate. Thus, they attempt to differentiate their approach from previous invitations for artist-run spaces to enter other institutions. In the publicity material surrounding the exhibition, attention was paid to geopolitics as an attempt to situate Malmö in the centre of a network, with Rooseum as the portal to other, nearby worlds so perhaps this should be viewed more as an attempt to replicate an internationally established practice in a small town. Less is said about ways in which the artists’ groups
might benefit from such an association. What could these organisations
gain from an institution like Rooseum harvesting the results of their
labour? Jakob Jakobsen, co-founder of the Copenhagen Free University justifies
their participation on the grounds of dissemination of information: As we have seen, a desire to reach a wider audience on
the part of the artists has been exploited by institutions in the past
so how does this experience differ? For the purpose of this study, it
is important to view an exhibition like ‘Baltic Babel’ in
the broader context of the remit at Rooseum. Learning from the models
of the past, Rooseum has clearly articulated an aim to re-think the institution: Here we have the crux of a new institutionalism of which Charles Esche is a proponent. What we see happening – with the institution aspiring to be ‘part community centre, part laboratory and part academy’ – is essentially a response to the working practices of artists and the energy of artist-led initiatives in determining the way in which an established, publicly-funded institution functions. There is a certain freneticism associated with this way of working, an urge to keep moving; the opposite of the old-school contemplative role for museums would seem to be never to stand still. What impact has this way of thinking had on the cultural life of the city? Speaking anecdotally to artists in Malmö, the initial response is that the new Rooseum is a positive development, playing as it does one side of the institutional triangle with Malmö Konsthall (currently without a director) and Malmö Art Museum (noted for its strong collection of contemporary art primarily from the Nordic region). If they succeed in their secondary aims, Rooseum may help to educate local funding bodies and make it easier for other initiatives to apply for money. The existence of what seems to be considered a relevant institution may also encourage graduates from Malmö Art Academy to remain in the city after graduation in a similar way to Transmission in Glasgow in its formative years. The connection between Rooseum and the Academy is being strongly developed through the Protoacademy. A note of caution, based on the experience of 1990s London which I have tried to describe and some knowledge of the Malmö scene in which one institution can easily assume dominance. The fact that Charles Saatchi was known to buy work from degree shows according to his particular aesthetic arguably influenced the work that was being made at London art schools in the 1990s so one pitfall Rooseum must avoid is becoming the only viable mainstream contemporary institution whose ethos influences work being made in the art academy and beyond. Furthermore, by playing host to small, fast projects and situating themselves at the centre of an artists’ network, Rooseum can be seen as having usurped some of the traditional territory of artist-led initiatives. In programming terms, artist-led initiatives will be forced to re-evaluate their role and take more risks. * Another main advocate of incorporating the ways of working
favoured by artists into the institutional framework is Maria Lind who,
for five years, was a curator at Stockholm’s Moderna Museet. There
she initiated the Moderna Museet Projekt (MMP), using the old vicarage
in the museum grounds as a base from which to develop a series of solo
projects with artists, moving beyond a fixed space to permeate the city
and other parts of the museum. Lind has spoken of her interest in the
kind of artistic practice that goes beyond the gallery to engage with
everyday life, sometimes process-based and ephemeral and the need for
institutions to change in response to this, moving away from being a static
repository: Like Esche, Maria Lind also poses questions about the
validity of the museum’s existence: * In these new models, a conscious effort is being made to move away from the monolithic institutions of old – with long lead-in times and established artists – which is a noble enough intention, no doubt shared by many of the artists agreeing to exhibit. The exhibitions coming out of this new way of working could perhaps best be summarised as a tendency towards showing works in progress in a move away from object-based practice. But, does it go far enough? For mainly pragmatic reasons, young directors have decided to take on small institutions which are easier to turn around, rather than raise the funds to start something new. Inevitably, with small institutions, there are budget shortages, with much money being diverted into the overheads of maintaining a building at the expense of artistic production. How successful the re-orientation of existing structures will be in generating extra funding remains to be seen. At the moment, invited artists are generally expected to produce and install new work for little more than the sums involved in artist-run spaces. Eventually, the artists may be able to use this experience as one more notch on their curriculum vitae in order to lever more funding from other sources, but, in the current situation, the institution itself stands to gain much more from the association. Maximum kudos for minimum investment. As we see, the kind of dynamic we are experiencing at
the moment relies heavily on the goodwill of participating artists. Comparing
the current generation of artists with their predecessors, the proponents
of institutional critique Hans Haacke, Andrea Fraser et al., Maria Lind
distinguishes thus: * Having opened the door to artists and artist-led initiatives
that may have been previously reluctant to enter the institutions, Maria
Lind has continued to develop this practice in her post as director of
Kunstverein München since 2002. There, she has established a system
of ‘Sputniks’ – taken from the Russian meaning of ‘partner’
or ‘travelling companion’ –long-term collaborators who
may realise or propose projects at the Kunstverein at any given moment.
The group is comprised of artists such as Liam Gillick, Nathan Coley and
Carey Young and curators like Lynn Cooke. At the time of writing, the
current exhibition is called ‘Totally Motivated: A socio-cultural
manoeuver [sic]’ (34) and included, among
others, the two Norwegian artists Gardar Eide Einarsson and Matias Faldbakken.
While studying in Bergen, this pair collaborated to run a space, a parody
of a museum, called the Bergen Museum for Samtidskunst [contemporary art].
The Museum was a mobile concept, also used as a banner for various publishing
activities including, in 2000, a pocket-sized anthology of texts called
Controlling the Means of Production. Citing technology and a
new way of artistic thinking as factors in an increasingly fluid situation,
potentially liberating artists from institutions and dismissing the blatant
careerism of certain artists they suggested: Einarsson, who has exhibited at both Kunstverein München
and the new Rooseum says: But I do hope that the idea of going into an already existing institution does not become the only possible trajectory for ‘alternatively-orientated’ people. I sincerely believe that new forms of institutions also need to be constructed more or less from scratch – institutions that also function long term and which are not simply thought of as transitional. (36) * Following a gradual acceptance by artists and audiences of artist-led initiatives being absorbed into public institutions during the 1990s, organisations like Rooseum and Kunstverein München are attempting to reinvent themselves by adopting the methodologies of such initiatives, including a tendency to show process-based work, retaining an ability to react quickly to developments in the art world and consolidating artists’ networks with the institution at the centre. What all of these activities have in common is that they take the existing institutional framework – complete with brand identity, audiences and expectations – as the starting point and it remains to be seen how far they will look beyond that. One of the main pitfalls with this way of working is that artists and their activities are forced into a construct defined by the institutions that generally serves to flatter the institution and disempower the artists. Another crucial question is an economic one as, in many cases, the institutions are only too happy to reap the rewards of work that has been developed by the artists at the expense of time and money. At present, there is little institutional support for developing new work and creating a viable economic framework for emerging artists. While any attempts to democratise our cultural institutions
are to be encouraged, and I would certainly not advocate a return to a
more conventional approach, I do have some concerns about the scope of
this new way of working. On a political level, with reference to exhibitions
like ‘Baltic Babel’, simply being aware of the local social
significance of artist-led initiatives and inviting them into the institution
does not make it ethically sound. Herein lies an important point: the
explicit consideration by the institution of the activity being undertaken
by the artists as synonymous with a political act. Their very decision
to organise themselves outside the officially-sanctioned institutions
could indeed be perceived as so and their incorporation into the institution
as a (deliberate or otherwise) act to undermine it. In more general terms,
absorbing activist politics into the museum runs the severe risk of disarming
the radical potential of the work. As the artist Colin Darke has commented: The current state of affairs seems far removed from Ross Sinclair’s vision of a social function for art. I would suggest that, to function more democratically, a progressive institution needs to engender more of a reciprocal exchange. There is a very real danger of speaking the language of local democracy but subscribing to the NGO model which – in most cases – doesn’t change anything in the bigger picture. If, as Rooseum states, they are to ‘be political in a direct way, thinking through the consequences of our extreme free market policies’, they must go further in their democratic mission and work together with artists to lobby for change. As artists have consistently found their own ways to
produce and distribute their work, surely institutions should be asking
themselves what they can offer the artists, beyond access to audiences
and networking opportunities during a one-off event. To close the gap
that persists between artistic and institutional practice, maybe a new
model needs to be born, from the ground up rather than the top down, which
can respond more effectively to the needs of artists. Less money should
be poured into infrastructure and funding bodies need to be convinced
that artistic production should be more actively developed and sustained.
There needs to be a focus on new research and production and a new way
to mediate projects to the public, with an emphasis on the artists’
original intentions and perhaps this is best achieved beyond the influence
of the museum brand. |
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