Peter Werner on Sat, 16 Nov 96 06:01 MET |
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nettime: Transnacionala review |
"TRANSNACIONALA": A New World Order Comes To Seattle by Frances DeVuono [from "Aorta: Contmporary Arts and Culture", Oct/Nov 96] The "Transnacionala" project, an ambitious international call for an art nation, came to Seattle for three days this July and left with barely a public ripple. Produced locally by Larry Reid and Charles Krafft, "Transnacionala" was spawned by Slovenian artists who comprise the industrial rock group Laibach, a theater collective, and the visual art collective called IRWIN. In the early '90s these artists, who collectively referred to themselves as Neue Slowenische Kunst (New Slovenian Art, or simply NSK), founded their own art "nation". Part performance, part critique, they have issued passports to their art nation-as-an-idea in England, Poland, Germany, Slovenia, Bosnia, and the U.S. Traveling from Atlanta in two large recreational vehicles, this trip was predicated on the idea of meeting with artists throughout the country. NSK's appearance in Seattle began with a well-attended "diplomatic" reception at the Kline-Galland Mansion. While a big band played such nostalgic numbers as "Summertime" and "It Had to Be You" on the side lawn, IRWIN artists were busy taking photos and stamping out passports to their transglobal nation in a smoky, sweltering hot back room on the first floor. These little booklets, purchased for a mere $30, were the only real art objects that exchanged hands during their stay here, and a few prints on display in the mansion were the only visible evidence of their work. The purpose of this trip was about the exchange of ideas. It was difficult to tell whether this was conceptual art at its most austere or art theory at its most arch. In the written material which describes their planned sojourn here, Eda Cufer, spokeswoman for NSK wrote: "One cannot avoid the simple macropolitical contextualization and interpretation of the 'Transnacionala' project as a meeting and confrontation of the two myths (the U.S.. and Russia) of our recent history, in which Slovenia plays the role of a minor, hardly known actor in the westernmost post of the Eastern territory on the planetary geostrategic map." 1 With dialogue as arcane as this, perhaps it is not surprising that attendance for the two days' worth of symposia after the reception dropped off precipitously. But in many ways that is unfortunate. For all their talk and their heavy- handed use of post-modern language, these artists highlighted difference - not only between east and west, but between developed commercial art spheres and art on the periphery' between rich nations and poor, and between cultures which have a rich history of intellectual fervor and cultures which pride themselves on "Just doing it". A five-plus hour symposium was held at the Fremont Fine Arts Foundry. Slovenian artists from IRWIN, Russian artists Alexander Brener, Vadim Fiskin, and Yuri Leiderman were joined by Steven Shapiro, a cultural scholar at the University of Washington, Stuart Swezey, editor of Amok Journal, and the Foundry's own best known conceptual artist, James L. Acord. The sum was an oddly ramified collection of ideas. Comparisons between art's apparent freedom here and former Soviet repression were suggested by broadcasting a telephone conversation with the then incarcerated Jason Sprinkle. Perhaps that struck the Europeans a bit like listening to shrimp entrepreneur Forrest Gump talk about NAFTA trade agreements. In any event they did not publicly comment. Neither did they respond to Shapiro's very relevant remarks that today "it is hard to imagine artists playing an avant-garde role in contemporary culture [because] . . . everything is culture; the difference between art and advertising is too difficult to define." He ended his talk with a key observation for anyone curious about art theory in the developed world, by pointing out that "in America with its economic imperialism there is no more polarization, simply an intricate spiral of economies." Acord described his odyssey through the bureaucracies of the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission to equally little response. The highlight of the forum was Russian performance artist Alexander Brener's piece. Ignoring Shapiro's claims about art in America, Brener's work hearkened back to an era when art was seen as revolutionary. Since Brener spoke no English, fellow Russian Fiskin offered to act as his interpreter, and an awkward rhythm was established. Like a poorly subtitled movie, Brener's long streams of Russian dialogue would be met with a few English sentences. First, Brener indicated that the world needed to be destroyed before art could be made. He then professed admiration for the Unabomber and ended (through the translation) with the claim that "since he wasn't a chemical scientist, can't produce a bomb, all he has is big hands, so he'd like to go to New York and box." It is often easy for us to forget the mythic image that America projects to the rest of the world. And the small number who attended the next day's discussion, held in the back of the Speakeasy Cafe (in an even smaller, hotter, smokier room than the Foundry's), were given the opportunity to hear, explicitly and implicitly how IRWIN artists see the West. Most significantly, Cufer stated that she found not necessarily "language differences - Slovenian/English or Russian/English, but different theories." Uniformly, IRWIN spoke of a lack of both history and theory in their native Slovenia. Borut Vogelnik pointed out that, "In Slovenia theory was not distributed, [and] if it is not distributed it does not exist." Dusan Mandic more passionately added, "The whole structure was already organized. The period from the '30s to nowadays . . . it's like it doesn't even exist; if you want comparison, you cannot find the sources. Now it is important to build our own interstructures." For those closely following NSK today, it is useful to put them in an historical, (albeit recent) context. In the late '80s the art collective IRWIN had successful exhibitions in New York and other art centers of the western world, and their work was seen as a near prototype for the post-modernism being discussed at that time. They tended to fill gallery spaces with lush painterly pieces, filled with appropriated images from a host of art idioms. Usually shown salon style, it was as if the efforts of this group (where no one work was ever attributed to single authorship) were a vast conflation of European modernism with no one locus, either personal or historical. Indeed, in the manifestos published alongside their work, the crux of their concern was modern history's biggest bugaboo - the nation- state. At this time, IRWIN was avowedly pro-Slovenian and they made liberal and curious use of totalitarian imagery, particularly images from the Third Reich. Like their counterparts in the Slovenian musical group, Laibach, who dressed in SS uniforms, these public displays of Nazi regalia were deliberately disturbing. But today these artists, as members of the NSK, repeatedly distance themselves from early accusations of sympathy for Hitler's brand of fascism. Nationalism, however, is another matter. Neue Slowenische Kunst's nationalistic fervor, their cry for a national theory, their mourning of lost history, may seem oddly anachronistic to us here. Indeed the Contemporary Art Council of the Seattle Art Museum was quoted describing NSK as "passe." But that dismissal may speak more of our tendency to see ideas in art as mere trends. While theorizing in the visual arts has dropped off since the 80s, our ability to ignore theory and national style arguably comes from a place of privilege. While that privileged art world is increasingly multi-national, it is still lodged in the wealthiest of nations. We need only look at the United States' rise to power in world culture during the post-World War II period. As the U.S. entered the world stage with Jackson Pollock as their poster boy, he was portrayed as intuitive and personal rather than intellectual and political. Writers like Clement Greenberg, in describing the significance of his work and the New York School, were quick to claim an "American painting." The ability to create a movement with an impact as large as the New York School of that period clearly had to do with positions of power and it took more than either great theory or great painting to place the U.S. in its dominant position. In 1949, James T. Soby wrote that it would take federal economic intervention on the part of the United States in a war-torn Europe to make the notion of an American avant-garde succeed. And it did. 2 In this light, the slightly stiff, often boring presentations of talk by this earnest group of Eastern Europeans suggests something rather important. Obviously the nationalism espoused by NSK has little to do with the modernist notion of nation-state and everything to do with cultural autonomy. And while cultural autonomy in the extreme can become xenophobic and dangerous (witness the former Yugoslavia itself), its need to be heard is too crucial to ignore. We live in a world too small and too complicated to do less than listen. 1 Eda Cufer. "First Letter, Transnacionala, A Journey from East to West Coast, June 28 -July 28" (press materials, 1996). 2 Serge Guilbaut, "How New York Stole the Idea of Modern Art", Arthur Goldhammer, trans. (Chicago. London: University of Chicago Press. 1983), pp. 193-94. Soby was writing for The Saturday Review when he called for federal intervention, approximately one year after Clement Greenberg heralded "The Decline of Cubism," in Partisan Review, publicly challenging the cultural hegemony of Paris. -- * distributed via nettime-l : no commercial use without permission * <nettime> is a closed moderated mailinglist for net criticism, * collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets * more info: [email protected] and "info nettime" in the msg body * URL: http://www.desk.nl/~nettime/ contact: [email protected]