Retaining Regional
Differences
Viera Jancekova
While I was preparing this lecture in our garden,
my neighbor was whistling as he put in his roof. Always just
a few notes
of the song, starting with the Soviet national anthem, then
fluidly switching to some pop song. There are probably cultural
influences that we cannot see, or somehow do not wish to see.
On the one hand, it is exotic to know the Soviet anthem,
and we can have fun at parties trying to remember the words,
which
emphasize how the country will stay united forever. On the
other hand, we feel ashamed, as our parents lost the possibility
to be proud on their past, except of the private family sphere.
One could easily be successful by producing art with images
of Lenin, but given the skepticism inherited from the late
regime, one might be hard pressed to really appreciate it.
I will provide further examples from my curatorial praxis
later.
How much art in Slovakia, perceptions of it from within
and expectations from without, is influenced by our Communist
past and capitalist future? What does cultural hegemony mean
in
a small country that is hardly recognized internationally
as an independent republic, even after more than ten years
of
separation from the Czech Republic, and even after joining
the European Union? How can we understand our identity, preserve
it, and still be able to compete with other countries, especially
those from the 'West,' without becoming an specimen
from some folkloric or post-Communist zoo?
I remember one 'Western' curator saying of the
international position of Slovak art, 'It is a pity
you don't have a war; that would bring you more interest.'
'Unfortunately' we
had no war, but at least the political changes associated
with the extension of the European Union caused interest
to temporarily
increase, so that usually under-represented Eastern European
artists without stronger economic support from local foundations
(as is typical of the British Council or Pro Helvetia) had
the temporary opportunity to be in fashion.
It is challenging
to think what we might bring to global art spheres from our
local experience. But, to be honest,
could
Andrej Varhola, the son of a mother who left our republic
before the Second World War, have succeeded without having
changed
his name to Andy Warhol? Should we change our identity in
order to have success in an imagined Western world? Could
an institution
with a name like Galeria Jána Koniarka from a town
called Trnava from a country called the Slovak Republic be
an equal
partner for established international art centers or artists?
I
would like to introduce an example of a type of collaboration
that dealt with regional differences, even as it unifies with
an international community, without big words about helping
the 'integration of New Europe.' It is a cultural
collaboration between art centers from seven different countries
and disparate artistic circumstances, within a network called
Art Centres of Europe. Re:Location 1–7 / Shake is
a three-year project between very different European institutions
based
on respect of local differences: Casino Luxembourg–Forum
d'art contemporain, Luxembourg; Centrul International
pentru Arta Contemporana, Muzeul National de Arta Contemporana,
Bucharest and Fundatia ArtStudio, Cluj, Romania; Centrum
Sztuki Wspólczesnej Laznia, Gdansk, Poland; migros
museum für
gegenwartskunst, Zurich, Switzerland and Halle für Kunst,
Lüneburg, Germany; O. K Centrum für Gegenwartskunst,
Linz, Austria; and Villa Arson–Centre National d’Art
Contemporain, Nice, France.
The principle overcame limitations
on artistic exchange between countries, and was usually implemented
on a simple administrative
basis. The project tried not to impose any particular standpoint
on participants, but rather enrich their diverse circumstances
by introducing them into each other's specific situation.
During a process of close collaboration, paved by the gradual
expansion of the European community, universal Internet access,
and increasing language readiness, new experiences emerged
amidst issues of hegemony, common narratives and individual
differences. It became clear very early on that our curatorial
group needed to try and combine several existing models:
exchanging artists for a long residency, naturally, during
which the conception
and realization of an exhibition in which all the artists
would take part would be encouraged, and initiating a dialogue
that
once started, should be ongoing. This meant, from the very
beginning and before any selection process, paying particular
attention on both sides to the respective cultural contexts
of each institution. Therefore, during seven bi-lateral projects
between the centers mentioned above, not only did each curator
visit the other's institution, but also met with the artists,
examined dossiers, spoke with various members of the art
scene, so as to grasp what was happening beneath the visible
surface.
We thus confronted and compared our respective situations,
our possibilities, our working tools, our difficulties, and
our financial means, in order to better understand the specifics
of each other's contexts. Finally, for our project
we chose artists who we felt would display a maximum of energy
in this framework, and whose approach would be enhanced by
such an experience.
Re:Location 1 between Galeria Jána
Koniarka in Trnava and the Casino Luxembourg–Forum
d'art contemporain
in 2001 marked the beginning of a 3-year collaboration. Initially,
the specific goals of the project were unclear. However,
we knew that we wanted to create a dialogue reflecting the
diverse
influences to which we were all subject, and the efforts we
were willing to make in the mutual exploration of new possibilities.
Our success in this endeavor would depend, we felt, upon
our ability to listen to other perspectives while being comfortable
enough to articulate our own. In many ways the collaborative
model was new to both institutions, neither of which had
any
experience with an artist-in-residence program or the infrastructure
to support one.
Trnava, once an important medieval town and
later a significant Baroque and university center with an
important Catholic
church, is not a typical example of a contemporary-art Mecca.
While
there is a strong literary and theatrical tradition, the
visual arts in Trnava are typified by the Baroque. Despite
being the
capital of Trnava District, with an important economic and
administrative history, Trnava is not a tourist destination.
On the contrary, running into a foreigner there is quite
rare, although this is gradually changing. Trnava has at
times a
dual nature: on the one hand, it is a highly competitive
town, and on the other, like the Slovak nation in general,
it tends
to have a rather passive approach to its relationship with
the rest of the world. Occupation by successive empires (Austro-Hungarian,
Fascist, Communist) has always made it difficult to find
an authentic national voice. This uncertain identity also
applies
to the
Slovak art scene. The concern of the Art Centres of Europe
network, originally Centres des Marges, to respect
and take into account art scenes located on the periphery,
sits comfortably
with the state of contemporary art in Trnava, itself on the
periphery of Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia. Even though
the term 'periphery' is highly problematic in
itself, we cannot deny its influence on the perception of
those who
produce and observe art.
Unlike Trnava, Luxembourg is a cosmopolitan
city where you never know whether a waiter in a restaurant
will speak French,
German or Letzeburgesch. The population is similar to that
of Trnava, approximately 80,000, with an equal number of
people commuting in daily to work. The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg
has
its own independent history as well as its own pride, despite
being one of the few countries in Europe smaller than Slovakia.
It is not possible to pin down a particular art scene or
typical features of Luxembourg art.
Slovakia, on the other
hand, has its own art scene, although one primarily linked
to the capital, Bratislava, situated
50 kilometers from Trnava. The natural focus of the Bratislava
art scene is the Academy of Fine Arts and Design. After the
so-called Velvet Revolution of 1989, visual artists from
Slovakia
(Czechoslovakia until 1993) awaited the arrival of curators
from the West who would discover the intrinsic qualities
of their work, which had developed in isolation from any
influence
or collaboration with Western Europe. The short period of
enthusiasm sparked by the fall of the Iron Curtain was followed
by a time
of disillusionment. Suddenly, one needed to know how to sell
oneself rather than wait for discovery, and there was a need
to know languages other than the until then compulsory Russian,
and formerly praised character traits like self-restraint
and humility became old-fashioned.
Re:Location 1 brought together
two institutions, along with their backgrounds and contexts.
This intense collaboration
helped each art center to define its respective strengths
and weaknesses. At the same time it allowed the curators
to explore
another country's art scene. Discovering artists who
demonstrated an ability to work collaboratively within another
social context guaranteed a process of cross-fertilization.
Keeping in mind the original idea of 'de-centralisation,'
the curators were not necessarily looking for 'stars,' but
for artists whose work would be most likely to benefit from
the experience.
Luxembourg artists Jerry Frantz and Dany Prum collaborated
on a project intended as an intermediary between the world
of art and that of everyday life. Lisie, a 'newborn' doll
representing an actual child born in Luxembourg in January
2002, was at the center of the project. The doll, which traveled
from Luxembourg to Slovakia and then on to the United States
and Iceland, passed from one 'adoptive' parent
to the next. It was like a blank canvas onto which visitors
could project themselves, and with which they could share
their own daily lives. Documented with video and photography
Lisie's
travels became a window into many worlds. Jerry Frantz, who
traveled with the doll to Slovakia, also became an actor
in this created stage of cross-cultural interaction: first-grade
children sang them a winter song, and while the eighth-graders
were more skeptical, some embraced Lisie despite themselves.
During
his stay in Trnava, Jerry Frantz took part in a birthday
celebration, visited local pubs, and attended art openings,
quickly integrating into the social life of Trnava. Coming
from a country with a long-term commitment to capitalism,
he was very interested in Slovakia’s recent Communist
past. Seeking out relics and artifacts from the period prior
to the
Velvet Revolution, Frantz documented some of the architectural
'wounds' inflicted
by overly zealous and arrogant Communist planners, as well
simpler stories from everyday life. This footage, filmed
by Frantz and edited by Dany Prum, was shown at the Casino
Luxembourg
in the installation entitled Who is Lisie? The living
room represented a typical interior from the socialist era.
Ultimately,
Frantz's collaboration with the Galéria
Jána Koniarka developed into an exploration of distance
and of politics. Intrigued by 'ostalgia' for
remnants of socialist aesthetics, his discovery of an image
of Lenin
in a pile of garbage became a lesson on how the same image
can be seen from different historical perspectives. For Frantz,
Lenin's image was a quaint reminder of a Cold War enemy
now long gone and rendered toothless. For Slovaks, who experienced
life under socialism, the picture triggered shame and embarrassment,
and the memory of a time filled with political repression
and personal and artistic caution. However, as time passed,
and
as Frantz came to understand the meaning of Lenin's
picture from the Slovak point of view, Slovaks used Jerry's
perspective to become more detached from their own negative
feelings. By
gaining some distance from the pain of life under the previous
regime, Slovaks were able to experience some of the '(n)ostalgia'
for socialist æsthetics so ‘fashionable,’ for
example, in East Berlin.
Like the majority of Slovaks, the
Slovak artist Juraj Dudás
does not make any effort to seek out his roots. He is a child
of the globalized world and its media, filled with noisy
television jingles, information and capitalist strategies.
The figure of
DJ Giorgio, a fictitious pop star admired by celebrities
all over the world, is one of his strategies. On one side,
there
is a wide-open 'Western world,' with its temptations,
speed, and ambitions, while on the other, Dudas seems perfectly
aware of how tiny we are in this world. In his Cubes,
he works with the aesthetics of minimal art and combines
it
with the
world of the media. In fact, those works represent enlarged
parts of microphones, specifically the parts carrying the
logos of television channels. At the time, the logo of the
Al-Jazeera
channel was particularly evocative, especially in relation
to the better-known logos of the BBC, CNN, ARTE, RTL, or
the former logo of the Slovak television channel. His quotation
of minimal art, a movement often described as quintessentially
Western, seems paradoxical, but it reminds us of our own
carnality
through the change of scale in the installation. Indeed,
the size of the piece played an important role. In Slovakia,
where
the production of large works of art is financially quite
difficult, Dudas' work could be regarded a shy comment.
Despite obvious differences (for instance, the admission
fee for the exhibition in Luxembourg was 4€, whereas
in Slovakia it was only 10 Slovak crowns or 0.46€),
the project proved that collaboration on an equal footing
can successfully
be
achieved, and that this form of collaboration can lead to
more than simply a work of art.
This year, the collective
art exhibition prepared by the seven art centers set out
to create a large-scale European
art show,
Re:Location Shake, with no centralist hierarchy and characterized
by equal relationships based on the abilities of every curator,
artist or art center. Parallel shows were organized throughout
Europe. In Trnava, the topic of the show dealt with public
taste and its expectations of art.
As part of our effort to
counteract the usual apathy of ordinary people in Trnava
and the lack of interest in contemporary
art, we included Eva and Adele, 'hermaphrodite twins
from the future,' in Re:Location Shake in Trnava. In
addition to their installation at the gallery interior, these
two artists,
walked the streets of the town, thus creating a public art
space. As they themselves put it, "Wherever we are
is a museum." The appearance of these Berlin-based
artists in the center of culturally homogenous Trnava certainly
attracted
attention and provoked reactions. However, sheer provocation
was not our goal. We felt that having two self-consciously
'different' individuals
interacting with our citizenry will stimulate discussion
about gender and identity issues. We hope that with this
import from
the West, positively seen, we can get attention more like
the events that Eva and Adele usually visit, such as the
Venice
Biennale.
In fact, our aim was to be equal, that is, to be
voluntarily globalized. Did we succeed? |