don’t hate the player, hate the game.
Although I new that this blog post was coming, I’ll admit that upon arriving in Venice, I hadn’t given much though to the idea of cultural art tourism beyond the topical. (I think that the cultural component is a much more problematic aspect of art tourism than the concept of traveling to experience art alone). Obviously there are accessibility issues when an event that is hosting so many pavilions is thrown in the middle of an expensive tourist trap. There is honestly no chance at seeing even a fraction of what the Biennale has to offer without being here for numerous days, which is unthinkable for many people who have to work. Sure, if you’re already invested in the art world, it can be arranged for work, or you take a lot of time off from your job. However, after several weeks here, I think that this reality is what creates a serious problem in the art world, leading to exacerbated westernization and insincere work produced by some artists, as well as potentially weak exhibitions hosted by the Biennale. Very little at the Biennial doesn’t go through some form of screening by an artist or institution on some level or another. Artists are part of a global stage, but they are invited to do so, and they are invited by a world driven by an art market. I wonder if, when we’re examining different cultures at the Venice Biennale through the lens of the art world, are we truly seeing the “Bienniale” voices as opposed to the unfiltered “non-western” voice? Even when certain artists are celebrated specifically because they aren’t “western”, I still wonder. Take, for example, the Magiciens de la Terre exhibition— frankly, though the framing was highlighting non-western art, it is not so different from the Viva Arte Viva framing when one gets down to it. Non-western artists are given the stage in the Shaman pavilion. This leads to the act of “othering” a group of artists, which Magiciens de la Terre was panned for. It was called a “neo-colonial art safari”, contributing to the primitivization of the artists and their art. They play a “non-western” role. Some artists might be shoe-horned into fitting the theme of Shamanism in the current Biennale by the curator, which is problematic. Rasheed Araeen makes a point which I think is important to keep in mind as we engage in cultural tourism, revealing reservations about the Magiciens de la Terre: “…I was asked to participate in this exhibition because some of my works were deemed appropriate for the purpose of the exhibition, by which I understand that some of my recent works make allusions to my own culture. In other words, if there were a solo exhibition of the avant-garde movement of the last 25 years, I would not be included in it, in spite of the fact hat I have lived in Europe for the last 25 years and was at the forefront of developments in both Minimal and conceptual art” (Araeen 132). In addition, there is the added complication of commissions made on behalf of curators for exhibitions, leading to artists catering to the art world, even if that means using their culture in art upon request. An artist can hardly escape catering to the invisible art world and art market in such cases, as they are subjected to different levels of tokenism, as Araeen was.
Switching gears, let’s examine a video installation by Candice Breitz titled “Love Story”. The first part of the installation shows an alternating video of Alec Baldwin and Julianne Moore sitting in front of a green screen and switching between the stories of many different refugees, the stories being told through their mouths. The second room shows each of the stories from the real people, also speaking in front of green screens. The piece is poignant because we are made painfully aware that we are part of the issue, that conjuring empathy through actors in Hollywood and philanthropic stars is a common ploy of the media. It also made me think about the audience of the piece itself. It made me sad to think that these videos and installation would most likely never make it to anyone who wasn’t, at least in a small capacity, part of the art world. If I were being inflammatory, I would say that it would never reach anyone who isn’t already somewhat complacent in a culture of “experiential art” but with no action being taken. This is precisely the problem that the video was highlighting, and it’s perpetuating in a way. I wish that the audience of such work could be expanded much further, beyond the types of people and social backgrounds who are fortunate enough to find themselves at a Biennale in the first place, or even worse, are able to commodify such works and put them in their own galleries, continuing a cycle of works being seen in white cubes, from within which I think it is difficult to cause any real change.
Finally, I’d like to address the question of whether or not we are seeing any amount of real culture when we see art in institutions and exhibitions. Bydler notes that there is a “separation of internationally connected cultural production from its local counterparts” (Bydler 382). We are given a fake semblance of connection with people of other cultures, and an unrealistic belief that institutions are “doing their best” by inviting them and displaying old works which did not receive their due credit during their time. I would guess that there is an entirely separate language among international artists in the art world, a different appreciation of aesthetics. Works come to be decontextualized in strange ways from their original cultures. But that is the art world’s game, and being a cultural tourist in the art world means playing it.
So you are saying that Shaheed Araeen is accepted more as an other from another culture than from his own country?
Kind of weird to see American faces identified in non-American countries. As an American who studied in a French university I did not like it when professors, books, and students said we Americans were imperialistic. They pointed to jeans, how young people all over the world wore American jeans. But your example shows me that images of Alec Baldwin and Moore, and I know Alec Baldwin is American, are used because they are more recognizable than perhaps the faces of people from the country that Candace Breitz is from. I guess I understand the accusation of imperialism better now because of your article. I must point out though that it is Great Britain, France, Germany, Belgium, and Italy that had empires in Africa; Spain and Portugal had one in South American. But I do not think that the U.S. had an empire, unless you look at 1900 islands taken from the Spanish.
I don’t know. I think I disagree with you a bit. I think when you are seeing art you are seeing a bit of the artist and the artist comes from at least one culture and cultures. I know during my life it is has been accepted that one ignore the author of literature, ignore Shakespeare’s life, and look just at the text. I assume the same is true about art criticism, ignore the artist, look at the art . But as someone who prefers nonfiction to literature and art and music, I am interested in the artist’s life and looking for elements of that in his or her art. So, yea, when we look at art, we are seeing culture, the culture of that artist, the life, that stage of his or her development when he produced that work, his vision. Sometimes an artist, like the compose Prokofiev, had to produce art for his government and he even fought against that by composing a ridiculous ending on a piece about a huge water dam. But do you think that is what is going on for the Bienneial? Do you think the artist had no idea what he wanted to create, then was asked to show his work in Venice, then created a peg to fit into that hole, the show? Probably not. And I think he had some ideas he had been developing, was already famous and well-resepcted in his country, got chosen because he pleased someone and was screened in as you said, and then maybe looked around at what was appropriate for Venice, and produced his work both base don his previous ideas and on this westernization you talk of of what would lbe appropriate for Venice. They all seem to be experiential, the artists. What happened to pencil sketches and an oil painting?