In
the late 1970s, cultural theorist Michel de Certeau wrote
an essay, "Walking in the City," that begins
with the author standing at the top of the World Trade
Center looking out over Manhattan. From this vantage
point, the city is offered up as a whole, graspable image,
in contrast with the messy, meandering city that one
moves through down below. "Down below" is the
realm of lived experience, inhabited by walkers, Wandersmanner,
who use and transform space, defying the geometrical
discipline imposed by urban development, of which the
World Trade Center stood as the most monumental of figures.
This is an exhibition
about walking in the city. But not all of the artists included
here engage in walking; some squat, some stand still, one
awkwardly attempts to scale buildings. "Walking" is
an ordinary but transformative way of using space, for
which we might substitute any number of other spatial practices.
The works gathered here are first and foremost acts of
spatial appropriation. For de Certeau, walking is a form
of enunciation, akin to a speech act. Like figurative language,
which strays from literal meaning, walking, squatting,
or scaling stray from proper places, introducing new significations,
ambiguities, and voices into an existing spatial system.
The spatial practices
represented here reference a long legacy of avant-garde
wandering, from that paradig- matically modern figure,
the 19th-century flaneur, to the aleatory drifting
of the Surrealists and Situationists. But if these earlier
moments in the (art) history of walking evince an easy
spatial and social mobility or a sense of touristic privilege,
the more contemporary works point to the heterogeneity
of lived experience, a global unevenness articulated locally
through the stubborn insistence of the body.
For artists working
in the charged social climate of the late 60s and 70s,
urban space signified revolutionary possibilities. Such
was the context for many of Yayoi Kusama's highly publicized
and politicized happenings. In 1966, the artist performed Walking
Piece, a work that enigmatically raises questions about
the status of the immigrant or stranger, and the city as
a space of difference. Theatrically deploying a stereotype
of exotic femininity, Kusama wandered the industrial outskirts
of Manhattan dressed in a kimono, sheltering herself beneath
a flowery parasol. One image depicts the artist encountering
a sleeping homeless man. Walking in the city here finds
a troubling cognate in homelessness, a different kind of
migratory practice that eludes attachment.
Adrian Piper's
video, Mythic Being (1973), negotiates the permeable
division between public and private realms, as it intersects
with race and gender. Dressing herself as a socially threatening
black male, wearing a moustache and afro wig, Piper moves
slowly down the street, repeating a line from her personal
diary like a mantra. A group of passers-by gathers behind
her--kids make faces at the camera, adults stare perplexedly.
Piper's work thus refuses the dignity accorded the autonomous,
discrete work of art, instead taking its place on the street,
existing in frictional relationship to the people encountered
there. In her Body Configurations series (1972-76),
Valie Export repeatedly photographed herself amidst the
architectural monuments that encircle Vienna, frozen in
contorted poses. These photographs stage a different kind
of masquerade than Piper's. Here the body appears vulnerable,
in danger of being engulfed or petrified by the city. Export's
performance/photography critically negotiates the psychically
fraught relationship of the female body to the city. Ultimately
the body remains resistant, unable to conform to its surroundings,
challenging the assumed rationality of architectural planning.
De Certeau tells
us that walking is sometimes like dreaming. In Arthur
Rimbaud in New York (1978-79), David Wojnarowicz photographed
his friend and lover, Brian Butterick, disguised as the
French Symbolist poet. Wearing a mask, a facsimile of Rimbaud's
face, this figure appears as a phantom, haunting the city's
deviant spaces: underneath bridges, piers, red light districts,
run-down apartments. Like the return of repressed, the
emergence of this phantasmatic figure asserts a right to
a public life for marginalized groups and their refusal
to be removed from urban reality.
For these artists
of the 1960s and 70s, the city emerged as an arena in which
art might begin to confront publicly the radical differences
of lived experiences. The more contemporary works featured
here reference this history self-consciously, engaging
the strategies of Export, Kusama, Piper, and Wojnarowicz
as models for working through and re-imagining politics
and poetics within the everyday. Displaying a more tempered
optimism toward the public sphere than their predecessors,
these artists engage in what might be called ethnographic
investigations into the individual resistances of everyday
space. They examine our tenuous sense of community as it
is mediated by real estate interests,planning and zoning
laws, and the desire for a unified public.(1) Rather than
seeking to transform the uncertain, unruly urban terrain
into something readable, these contemporary artists negotiate
the profound disorder and fragmentation that city bureaucracy
and community interests work to deny. Their efforts reveal
not so much an attempt to make their socio-political identities
stand out from the fabric of the city, as to direct attention
to the global realignment of borders and redistributions
of capital that produce this urban fabric.
Simon Leung's Squatting
Project/Berlin was conceived to comment on the expulsion
of Germany's immigrant Vietnamese population in 1992.
Developed as posters for bus stops throughout Berlin,
Leung took his visual cues from the squatting position
assumed by people in Asian and other non-western populations,
as well as the notion of claiming residency in an unoccupied
building. Echoing Export's (non-) conformist postures,
Leung's squatting also recalls Wojnarowicz's masked Rimbaud,
inhabiting improper places. Leung's project makes visible
a population that had not been allowed to squat, and
was instead quietly being exiled from both the cultural
habits of the body and a chosen place of refuge.
In Upward Mobility,
Alex Villar incorporates his body into urban architecture
in unexpected ways. Challenging the means by which city
planning forces our movement in a particular trajectory,
Villar explores the terrains of New York and London architecture
by attempting to traverse buildings vertically. At once
a futile gesture and a grasping for freedom, Villar climbs
bus stops, buildings, scaffolding, and railings. Throughout
his work, Villar, like Export, insinuates his body into
the small spaces that remain unused by most city inhabitants. Upward
Mobility pushes this notion further as it reveals the
restrictions that are placed on our freedom of movement
by the built environment and the regulation of city planning.
In the video installation, A
Needle Woman, Kim Sooja is seen from the back, standing
motionless facing a bustling urban street. These scenes
are set off against serene images of the artist lying
on a rock. In the city, her stillness emphasizes the
urban chaos and distances her from the constant stream
of people. By the rock, however, Kim's quietude takes
on a contemplative, even spiritual aspect, suggesting
that the source of her reserve within the city is strength
rather than catatonia. In both Kim's video and Kusama's
slides, the figure stands out against an urban background.
While Kusama foregrounds the uncertain place of foreignness
within an indifferent city, Kim contrasts the verticality
of her body with the constantly fluctuating shapes and
colors of the anonymous crowd, suggesting a more internal
articulation of space.
Valerie Tevere's
interactive DVD project, A Preliminary Guide to Public
and Private Space in Amsterdam, is an idiosyncratic
mapping of Amsterdam based on citizens' perceptions of
private and public space. Through interviews with residents,
Tevere creates a map determined by (seemingly) arbitrarily
chosen public and private spots, delimiting various alternative
routes through the city based on the practices of individual
walkers. Like Piper, Tevere explores the interpenetration
of public and private spheres, emphasizing as well chance
encounters and the creative appropriation of space by its
users. For the work's audience, navigating the interactive
format of Tevere's DVD project mirrors the actual walking
in the city.
Like her colleagues
in this exhibition, Tevere's work makes visible clandestine
paths through the city, illuminating diverse modes of mobility.
Seen through the lens of earlier urban performance, this
contemporary art makes manifest the imbrications of the
subject and the urban environment, and the struggle to
find agency within regulated spaces.
©2003 Melissa
Brookhart Beyer & Jill Dawsey
1. Rosalyn Deutsche's
pioneering book, Evictions: Art and Spatial Politics, has
been foundational in thinking through this project.
Press Release:
In the late 1970s, cultural theorist Michel de Certeau wrote the essay, "Walking
in the City," which begins with the author standing at the top of the World
Trade Center looking out over Manhattan. From this vantage point, the city
is offered up as a whole, graspable image, in contrast with the messy, meandering
city that one moves through down below. Throughout the second half of the twentieth
century, artists have engaged these contrasting views of the city, negotiating
the simultaneously coherent and chaotic urban terrain via the immediate and
kinetic media of performance, photography, and video.
In the contemporary
moment, there has been a resurgence of interest in understanding
human and artistic agency within the mediated, contradictory
spaces of the city. The exhibition Walking in the City examines
the work of eight contemporary artists. Simon Leung, Kim
Sooja, Valerie Tevere and Alex Villar highlight their engagement
with strategies developed by artists throughout the past
forty years, including Valie Export, Yayoi Kusama, Adrian
Piper and David Wojnarowicz. The latter group of artists
explore their concerns with resisting and negotiating regulated
space in order to position themselves within a public,
urban environment.
The works in the
exhibition constitute acts of spatial appropriation. Not
all of the artists engage in literal walking; some squat,
some stand still, one awkwardly, attempts to scale buildings. Walking
in the City is thus an ordinary but transformative
way of using space, for which we might substitute any number
of other spatial practices.
The curators of
the exhibition are both PhD candidates in Art History at
Stanford University, California. Jill Dawsey, a critical
studies fellow in the Whitney Independent Study Program
in 2000-2001, currently resides in San Francisco and is
working on her dissertation concerning "street works" by
women artists of the late 1960s and 70s. Melissa Brookhart
Beyer is finishing her dissertation on audience dynamics
in contemporary performance. She recently curated Space
Vehicles, opening January 30, in Houston and lives
in New York City.
A curators'
talk will take place in the gallery on Wednesday, January
8, 2003 at 6:30 pm.
*This exhibition
has been selected from the Unsolicited Proposal process. |