Politik – what's next?

Rethinking Relevance in Art Education

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:17:04 +0000

This article addresses the advocacy for greater legislative support, funding and time allocations to be devoted to arts instruction and the development of arts practices in the arena of public education. Organizations like the National Art Education Association (NAEA) along with individual practitioners, researchers, and teachers of all walks have long been engaged in a struggle to make the argument that the arts are necessary for human development and innovation, not just nice to have around,¹ and not merely an unjustifiable and humanist pleasure that exists only for the sake of those who enjoy them.²

Signs of the Times
I advance the thesis that any advocacy for the arts in the wake of the Information Age must first argue for a paradigm that defines the arts in terms that connote meanings strikingly different than that of “a source of intrinsic satisfaction,” “a shaper of feeling,” or an object of great “aesthetic quality” for the betterment of our daily lives.³ A semiotic turn is required.
Semiotics is characterized as the “translation of content from one sign system into another” or from one system of networked meanings to another.⁴ Charles S. Peirce, the originator of the semiotic theory of signs, -described a sign as “something by knowing which we know something more”⁵. Umberto Eco (1976) writes that, “A sign is everything which can be taken as signi-ficantly substituting for something else”⁶. Pragmatically speaking, we reason “from sign to sign” in order to better understand a concept and surround it more fully.⁷ The umbrella of understandings produced by a sign -system constitutes a paradigm. A paradigm models a pattern of signs and meanings that is consistently self-similar. As long as a system of semiotic exemplars is -embraced as significantly informative, the resultant paradigm may continue to act as a watershed against competing systems of understanding.

Broadsides in the Contest for Semiotic Relevance
NAEA policy broadsides seek to increase public support for arts and art education policies.⁸ I was struck by the semiotics at work in the language and meaning of these broadsides, most of which are couched around the plea: “Where’s The Art? Yet if their intended audience operate under the umbrella of a paradigm that fails to recognize a deficit of art in their homes, social settings, and public school curricula, that audience will see no sense in making the study of the arts an equal priority to other academic subjects. A plea for more art would prove to be an ineffective advocacy gambit. Other NAEA policy broadsides feature the questions “Why Teach Art?” and “Why Study Art?” But these are also likely to be ineffective pleas if their intended audience assumes the answers to these questions consigns students to activities in which to creatively express themselves or learn the names and works of famous artists. In these pleas, the arts are cast simultaneously as an academic subject appropriate for the agenda of public education and also as an academic subject for which relevancy is held in question.
How have certain policies regarding the arts in education come into being and why do they persist? Connotation and collaterality is heavily at work in any semiotic system.⁹ Ferdinand de Saussure¹⁰ offers insight into the role of connotation and collaterality in semiotics by emphasizing the combinatory possibilities between the signs within a system of signs; Saussure describes these combinatory possibilities as syntagmatic relations. For instance, however one defines art will also dictate how one defines the concepts of artist, artwork, art history, art education, arts policy, and arts advocacy. The dynamics of these kinds of connotation and collaterality in semiotically derived understandings produces Buczynska-Garewicz’s “chain of interpretation”¹¹ and Eco’s “unlimited semiosis.”¹² This characterization coincides with Daniel McCool’s explication of the fluid parameters of public policy, explaining that “policy does not exist in discrete units; it is part of a complex system without clear demarcations”¹³.
But just as important to the premise of this article is Saussure’s explication of the oppositional properties in semiotically derived understandings. Saussure described the contrastive properties of sign systems as paradigmatic oppositions wherein “the choice of one term necessarily excludes the other”¹⁴. Art educator Harold Pearse has developed a framework for examining oppositional sign systems defining thought and action in the practice of art education.¹⁵ Pearse’s framework began as an interpolation of the work of Canadian curriculum theorist Ted Aoki¹⁶. Aoki originally sought to adapt Jürgen Habermas’s philosophical inquiry into the paradigms of human knowing¹⁷ in order to inform his own teaching and writing.
According to Pearse,¹⁸ there are at least three prevailing paradigms of thought and action in art education that oppose one another in shaping an understanding of what art is. An empirical-analytic paradigm defines art as a system of production, a cause and effect intervention into a stockpile of empirical and manipulable elements, a commodity-oriented process “that has as its basic intent a cognitive interest in the control of objects in the world”¹⁹. An interpretive-hermeneutic paradigm defines art as a system of communication, the expression of situated knowledge about a person’s relationship with his or her social world.²⁰ A critical-theoretic paradigm defines art as a system of reflection, a relativist and liberatory activity rendering invisible assumptions, -values, and norms newly visible “in order to transform” unjust social relations and empower marginalized individuals and communities within the practitioner’s social world.²¹ In each of these cases, arts practices signify ways of knowing within varying semiotic systems that coexist, but do so oppositionally. Of these three semiotic systems, it is the empirical-analytic paradigm that has dominated in defining art and collateral arts policies throughout the modern era.

Arts Paradigms in Modernity and Postmodernity
In the modern era, our perception of the arts remained anchored in an Age of Exploration ethos when Western art-making was “an instrument of knowledge but … also an instrument of [material] possession”²². The empirical-analytic mindset of the Exploration Age generated a -tenacious definition of art that conflated the sensuousness of raw material with industrialist and capitalist empire-building practices, turning works of art into commodities, collector’s items and symbols of status. The arts, defined as commodities and possessed as totem-like objects fetishizing empiricism and materiality, were commissioned or otherwise acquired at great cost to be displayed in special halls or in royal or papal courts, and collected in cabinets of curiosity with other natural objects. The commoditization of art objects -ultimately served to privilege guild-associated or academically-trained artisanship; the mastery of medium-specific skills and techniques in the production of such objects; the prominence of galleries, exhibition halls, museums and marketplaces to display the quality and/or rarity of either the materials or the exploits involved in crafting and/or appropriating such objects; and the designation of aesthetic beauty ascribed to those objects that most the effectively or completely depicted the -empirical world, served as evidence of scientifically scripted hierarchies, or had the apparent hallmarks of individual creative genius superseding the norm.
Policy rooted in such a definition yields a predi-lection for institutionalized cultural reservoirs preserving objects declared to be great works of art and the masterpieces of Western civilization, framed in con-tradistinction to display cases full of anthropologically authenticated artifacts. Critical theorist and social -philosopher Theodor W. Adorno²³ pointed out how the modernist commoditization of the art object as masterpiece and the artist as individual creative genius in -evidence, for instance, in events like the U.S. Kennedy Center Honors, perpetuates the zeitgeist of goodwill -toward the idea of art as cultural product. Along with this goodwill comes a false sense of security for the masses that arts products are being preserved and that society’s artistic coffers are full – both those arts promoted as being regarded with the highest esteem in Western culture, and those arts that are advertised as the culture’s most popular forms of entertainment.
Richard Kearney makes the pronouncement that -“modernity is where we grew up,” but “postmodernity is where we now live”²⁴. In the contest for semiotic re-levance between opposing definitions of art, Pearse went on to suggest a new system for conceptualizing the thought and action originated through arts practices by arguing that we are now in the midst of a postparadigmatic era, “one in a constant state of flux, a kind of perpetual pluralism”²⁵ of opposing paradigms. Steven Connor summarizes the thesis of Jean-François Lyotard’s book The Postmodern Condition²⁶ as follows: “The postmodern condition comes about with the collapse of or extreme skepticism toward … universalizing metanarratives. In place of a single narrative of the unfolding of an essential humanity, Lyotard proposes a multiplicity of different histories and local narratives that is incapable of being summarized or unified into one all-encompassing story.”²⁷Pearse describes our postmodern condition as a postparadigmatic paradigm where “earlier paradigms continue to exist as both historical artifacts and governing perspectives for some people”²⁸. Thus, we are said to be in an era when no one paradigm of thought and action is able to dominate, where oppositional paradigms have reached an equivalence that cause them to grate upon one another like great tectonic plates, wearing each other down into localized narratives and constantly rearranging fragments of meaning. If we accept the assumption of a semiotic system that both consumes prior signs and creates new signs in the process, it suggests that we are in the midst of a de/re/constructive paradigm. Such a paradigm would enable a particular redefinition of art most suitable for achieving an increase in current public support for arts and art education policies.
I argue that art-making may effectively be reinterpreted as a system of information, a social process interrogating “the relationship between ideas and art” so as to de-emphasize “the value traditionally accorded to the materiality of art objects” in favor of exploring the social “preconditions for how meaning emerges in art, seen as … [varying] semiotic system[s]”²⁹. What kinds of policies towards the arts ought we to pursue if we are in the midst of a postparadigmatic condition redefining the arts as a system producing the myriad meaning-making processes that inform the human condition?

Policy, Purpose, and Habits of Mind
Exploring policy is not fanciful; policy exploration is always a pragmatic exercise since policies are designed to ensure the good of the many. Such purposes are rooted in philosophies and worldviews. Lankford lists “five aims of philosophy of art education”³⁰ as follows: “to justify our reason for being” … such that our goals are so unimpeachable that “society will feel compelled to -support us with salaries, supplies, classrooms, and … mandate that all its children shall study under our -tutelage”³¹; “to clarify ideas” articulating our purposes, our assumptions, and biases so that our policies reflect our goals with as much internal consistency as possible; “to synthesize ideas” bringing contemporary art edu-cation into growing rapprochement and agreement “with other fields of inquiry and social forces”³²; “to -recommend … the shoulds and oughts of art education,” the policies that evolve from the empirical analysis -required to clarify our claims and ideas, and the spe-culation required to bring about new theoretical syntheses;³³ and finally “to raise questions” that enlarge our conception of what is possible in education, of what content should be taught, to whom it should be taught, and under what circumstances.³⁴Art educators must readdress the semiotics of art ideas and art-making actions along with the collateral meanings and oppositional language surrounding these ideas, practices and products before we can expect policies about the arts in education to change for the better. The principles of semiotics suggest that there are habits of mind, habitual interpretations as it were, or “collateral experience”³⁵, which limits the ability of policy-makers and legislators from defining or understanding the arts in any way other than they already see them. Saussure is helpful once again in his emphasis that “no meaning exists in a single item”³⁶ but that definitions and meanings are derived from how signs and events interact. Fomenting a semiotic sea change requires more than just the awareness that the study of language changes language or that the study of the language about a concept changes the reading of that concept. Art educator jan -jagodzinski has suggested a first step: “We should examine cultural practices as signifying systems, as practices of representation, not as the production of beautiful things evoking beautiful feelings. Art-texts produce meanings and positions from which those meanings are consumed…If we replace production for creation then we can begin to get at the social conditions; if we replace consumption for reception we can begin to politicize the act of seeing. The entire syllabus changes when we see art as a form of social practice.”³⁷This article aims to be just such an examination of the signifying systems that define art and collateral arts policies. But writing this article alone will have no effect on public policies; in order to change policies, -habits and actions must be transformed. The interaction of changes in signs and events, habits and actions will ultimately de/re/construct policy approaches as well.

The Semiotics of Policy Change
Ralph Smith described policy as an enterprise “always addressed to actions,”³⁸ staking effective policymaking to the philosophical groundwork of a pragmatist epistemology. In other words, policy-makers and legislators call it as they see it, designing policies that “determine, organize, regulate, or systematize activities in order to bring about that state of affairs which marks a policy’s purpose”³⁹. Thus, to change a policy presumes a need to initiate action that has new and necessary relevance. Logically, if policies require newfound relevance in order to be effectual, prior policies have likely become less than relevant; systems have reached a point where they need to be rebooted.
Hans Löfgren presents a “model of semiotic change” insistent “that the sign is always subject to change and that it must ultimately be defined in terms of semiotic boundaries”⁴⁰. Löfgren’s model is useful in that it is framed as a “discursive intervention,” constituting “a method that analyzes change within the sign rather than in terms of the sign”⁴¹. If we want to effect change in the public policies advocating the arts, policies that are –collateral to contiguous and yet oppositional paradigms defining art and arts practice, we must first explore the interaction between the paradigms themselves.

The Methodology is the Message
The arts practices in an empirical-analytic paradigm stem from habits producing beautiful forms and techniques to evoke the beautiful as determined by those who assume the power to be the arbiters of good taste.⁴² The arts practices in an interpretive-hermeneutic paradigm stem from habits closely describing “the ways in which we immediately experience an intimacy with the living world, attending to its myriad textures, sounds, flavors, and gestures”⁴³ through a selected symbolic medium. The arts practices in a critical-theoretic paradigm stem from habits challenging “the taken-for-granted theories and concepts that govern our disciplines and circumscribe our thinking” in order to reveal “the ongoing inequity and social injustice that shape our society”⁴⁴. In the effort to rethink art education, I would like to advance the argument that the arts practices in a postparadigmatic paradigm stem from habits organizing ideas like those aforementioned, which are both in flux and from a plurality of sources, into useful and -desirable information.
According to library and “information architect” Alex Wright, information is “the juxtaposition of data to create meaning”⁴⁵. In a postparadigmatic model, arts practices inform the human condition by constituting and reconstituting practice-based methodologies for juxtaposing sensory, phenomenal, and cultural data. This is data that has been deemed significant enough for preservation, further inquiry and wider proliferation. Moreover, a postparadigmatic model for redefining the arts and rethinking arts policies deemphasizes Saussurian paradigmatic oppositions in favor of Saussurian syntagmatic relations. A postparadigmatic paradigm provides safe harbor for other paradigms to persist since it is the juxtaposition of definitions and concepts across paradigms that becomes the necessary fodder for new art-making methodologies to be made. Juxtapositions of formal art elements syntagmatically across -paradigms to blend with either phenomenological experience or critical theoretic intent generate reorganizations of human data in a postparadigmatic paradigm where the methodology itself becomes the message.⁴⁶

Organizing Information Through Arts Practices
In redefining the arts as a system producing meaning-making processes that inform the human condition, we must consider the data. Alex Wright defines information as much more than the mere cognition of data.⁴⁷ Data itself is nothing more than relatable facts and elements collected for future reference and use. It is the organization of data that recasts it as information.
Moreover, it is the affect that may be generated by the organization of such data – that is, the ability of particular configurations of data to inform personal emotions and stimulate the formation of new public memories, discourse, and beliefs – which ultimately perpetuates both the significance and the longevity of that data.
The empirical-analytic, interpretive-hermeneutic, critical-theoretic, and postparadigmatic paradigms mentioned throughout this paper are each information systems. As Wright explains it, nature and natural behavior in humans and animals is rife with information systems, evidence of a widespread biological imperative to “preserve information beyond the life of the individual organism through social imitation, and by encoding memes onto their physical environments”⁴⁸. At the molecular level, DNA is no more than a genetic information system. At the behavioral level, the preservation of information held sacred, significant, or simply more salient than the steady drone of stimuli that would otherwise drive us to distraction leads us to a discussion of the creative acts that serve to anchor our attentions.
The very same data, when organized in a different system, is capable of informing with entirely new meaning. Like the letter C, which makes completely different sense depending on the alphabetical writing system it is inserted in, or on whether it represents a musical note, an algebraic expression, or a position on a chessboard, it is in the myriad juxtapositionings of data within systems that we create the meanings we read and respond to. Arts practices are a human behavior that organizes information through very distinct medium-specific, -experientially representative, and/or theory-laden methodologies. For example, Edvard Munch organized information about human suffering in paint on a canvas differently than Käthe Kollwitz organized such information in her prints and public sculptures, and differently again than Alvin Ailey organized such information through his dance choreography.
Systems of information usually coexist in the form of networks and hierarchies, for example in the way that “human memory can be explained as a system of nested hierarchies running atop a neural network”⁴⁹. Networked and hierarchical systems for ordering data are described as follows: “A hierarchy is a system of nested groups. For example, an organization chart is a kind of hierarchy, in which employees are grouped into departments, which are in turn grouped into higher-level organizational units, and so on. Other kinds of hierarchies include government bureaucracies, biological taxonomies, or a system of menus in a software application … A network, by contrast, emerges from the bottom up; individuals function as autonomous nodes, negotiating their own relationships, forging ties, coalescing into clusters. There is no ‘top’ in a network; each node is equal and self-directed. Democracy is a kind of network; so is a flock of birds, or the World Wide Web.”⁵⁰Just as a particular juxtapositioning organizes data into particular information, alter that juxtapositioning and you have altered the organizing narrative and the likely reading and response to that data. A hierarchical organization of data yields a specific reading, from a starting data set to concluding data set; a networked -organization of data clusters its data rhizomatically, yielding multiple impressions of meaning that alter -depending on the perspective.
Beyond the arts practices, some information is organized with such hierarchical precision and equative balance as to awe us with the order in the universe; no matter where you stand, without ambiguity, one locomotive engine pulls the rest of the cars one by one behind it. The progression of ideas in various branches of the sciences comes to mind. On the other hand, some information is organized to access a network of collateral traditions and connotations and to trigger a torrent of empathy for those who likewise suffer the follies of the human experience. For instance, Francisco de Goya’s depiction of a massacre of Spanish civilians by Napoleon’s troops in The Third of May 1808 networks historical data and imagined details painted with an assurance networking this masterpiece to the work of the Old Masters of 17th century Europe. The painting also networks recollections of centuries of paintings depicting the crucifixion of an innocent Christ to a particular split second in between the volleys of a firing squad. Depictions of common folk in the canon of Western art history are networked to viewer’s memories of family and friends in unjust situations. Whatever the intent of the organizing system, information is always organized for a recurring purpose: to be literally re-cognizable, so as to be easily recalled to memory and thus retain its significance.
This brings us around once again to the notion of the arts as an organizing system of the most human information of all – data impressed with social imperatives and emotional meaning. Information wrought from and melded into manufactured forms, cultural symbolism, and liberatory frameworks are richly complex hierarchies and networks of data. Oral, visual, written and performance arts practices depicting heroes and monsters, gods and earth mothers, migrations and holy men, elements and alchemies, the sciences and religions, injustices and fragile ecologies together constitute some of the most dynamic strategies at our disposal for the conservation and recycling of the data that most effectively informs human beings of who we are, where we come from, what our purpose is, and where we may be going.

The Arts in the Wake of the Information Age
In his article Art Education for New Times, Paul Duncum defines and describes the cultural ramifications of the Information Age.⁵¹ The Information Age was that period over the last quarter of the 20th century that saw the rapid globalization of information and communication technologies and the proliferation of the ability to digitize and manipulate information and its traffic. The cultural developments of these new times include: “the treatment of culture as an ordinary, material commodity; the proliferation of electronic visual images; and, the multifaceted construction of individual identity”⁵². The resultant social effects of this glut of data have been described as follows: “Human beings now produce more than [5,000,000,000,000 megabytes] worth of recorded information per year: documents, e-mail messages, television shows, radio broadcasts, Web pages, medical records, spreadsheets, presentations, books … That is 50,000 times the number of words stored in the Library of Congress, or more than the total number of words ever spoken by human beings. Seventy-five percent of that information is digital … As the proliferation of digital media accelerates, we are witnessing profound social, cultural, and political transformations whose long-term outcome we cannot begin to foresee.”⁵³Consequently, there has been a reorientation of traditional canons and worldviews within contemporary visual arts and art education disciplinary practices so as to now draw upon and consider the vast traffic of visuality, material culture tropes, and media messages that mark our era.⁵⁴ This paradigm shift, mining the potential of new juxtapositions, has also become the source of vigorous debate within the art education field in recent years over what is art content and what is non-art content.⁵⁵Harold Pearse cautioned that art educators “cannot operate the same way in a world revolutionized by -communication technology and depersonalized consumerism in which we are inundated by the products of the mass media that cause us to constantly question what is real … [and] what is original”⁵⁶. A significant number of art educators, well aware of the contem-porary shift to a postmodern and postparadigmatic -paradigm, have already embraced the opportunity to change the way we organize the data. It has not been a coincidence that the push for Visual Culture Art Education (VCAE) has heightened during the global tilt from an Exploration and Industrial Age ethos into an Information Age ethos. This article however is not an -argument for VCAE, but rather for the semiotic reinterpretation of the definitions of art that the rise of VCAE has helped to reveal. Caught up in what designer Richard Saul Wurman calls a “tsunami of data”⁵⁷, where do art educators go from here?

Redefining Art as a System for Organizing Data That Reveals the Human Condition
“Genuine change – change without repetition – has to involve integration: the construction of the new upon the old even as the old is, in this process, reconstructed.”⁵⁸Pearse advises that every art educator in this postmodern era “needs to be versed in semiotics and methods for decoding sign systems”⁵⁹. The preceding quote from Löfgren is reflective of the inherent utility in drawing upon the syntagmatic constitution of a postparadigmatic paradigm in order to foment a semiotic sea change facilitating the public’s understanding of the arts as a system for organizing data that compellingly tells the human condition. Keeping in mind that the most enduring information is information that deeply impresses both our cognitive and affective awareness, I propose policies that promote the arts as a means to better inform ourselves about the things that matter the most to us as local and international communities. The arts enhance human information, recalling and -refining the cargoes of meaning our collected data -carries in tow. Based upon a postparadigmatic recon-ception of the arts, this is information that may be organized around canonized art objects and conventional art-making techniques, a plurality of cultural tropes, and/or iconoclastic themes of social critique in any combination and without partiality.
Arts-based methodologies for organizing human data effectively inform not because they are beautiful, but are beautiful because they carry a berth for our emotions and enthrall our attention, making them altogether effective at delivering their memetic cargo. The arts connect us bodily to ideas that make sense to us. Hence, I suspect that beauty, wherever it is attributed, lies in the re-cognition of the data that most directly informs and validates the story of one’s life. For example, the words of a printed obituary tell of a death, but Mozart’s final Requiem Mass validates and informs in ways that bind the facts surrounding a life that has passed with an unforgettably sublime expression of grief.
While revising an early draft of this article, I happened across the following diagram of a promising new method developed by Syracuse University researchers for delivering insulin to the body through oral dosages rather than through injections. Delivery is accomplished by binding insulin peptides to biomolecules of vitamin B₁₂, protecting the insulin as it passes through the walls of the gastrointestinal tract until it is able to reach the bloodstream.
This image⁶⁰ serves as an unexpected metaphor for the effective organization of data about the human -experience and the natural world when that data is bound to a methodology that makes art of life and carries that data safely through the boundaries of language, through cultural divides and the passing years. By attaching some elemental form or cultural trope or just idea (the insulin peptide) to an idiosyncratic new methodology for making art (the protective B₁₂ biomo-lecule), the commonplace is made significant and its ability to inform is made more complex, durable, and ultimately more transportable as meaning throughout the corpus of human social interaction.
Methodology is defined “as the entire research process from problem identification to data analysis”⁶¹. Cahnmann-Taylor & Siegesmund have defined arts-based research in education as the “arts for scholarship’s sake”⁶². In my own pedagogical practice I have watched a sixth grader sifting through commonplace materials such – wood scraps and bolts – as part of her methodology for crafting the facsimile of a life-sized little girl. I have supported a fourth grader as he duplicated and reflected on the significance of a commonplace cultural artifact – a U. S. passport – as part of his methodology for representing personal freedom, social mobility, and family identity. And I have witnessed a third grader reinterpreting a commonplace critique – the injustice of bullying – in an iteration of a political cartoon, part of his methodology offering subtext to a rendered standoff between forest animals and an army of bulldozers. In each of these instances of young students extending their scholarship in the art studio, the methodology became the message.

Suggested Policies Advocating a New Relevance for Arts Education
Once the arts are thus redefined, policies reconceptualizing the relevance of the arts begin to reveal themselves. I propose that the targeted audience should first be fellow arts practitioners and arts educators before focusing on the public at large. Löfgren suggests a compelling reason for this strategy: “Social change … always has consequences for the relation of individual and societal. Change liberates the individual from embedding, or recontainment, in the societal. This makes social change dependent on an individual process that has two phases: the articulation of newly liberated individuality and its reinstitutionalization into society.”⁶³Connecting Löfgren’s suggestion to Lankford’s “five aims of philosophy of art education,”⁶⁴ I believe arts practitioners and arts educators have the unique opportunity in this day and age to show what an informing arts practice allows us to accomplish. Our newly liberated individuality as arts practitioners and educators will consequently yield new arts education policies that reconceptualize the justification of “our reason for being,” clarify and synthesize ideas, “recommend … the shoulds and oughts of art education,” and “raise questions” that enlarge our conception of what is possible in education. Rather than advocacy broadsides asking questions no one outside our field is seeking to answer, I suggest that we make some bold claims and provide the information that warrants those claims. I am proposing several suggestions to start.

The Arts are a Renewable Resource. Refresh Yourself!
Tell the story of Julia Marshall’s postparadigmatic definition of art as conceptual collage⁶⁵, the artist as bri-coleur creating ideas from diverse and seemingly incompatible arrays of available things, and the arts practices as “strategies of juxtaposition, decontextualization, and blending”⁶⁶. In a postparadigmatic paradigm, arts policy should focus less on the idea of the arts as precious objects, events, and legacies to be preserved intact, and more on the idea of the arts as a generator of new innovation, refreshing old data in array of cross-disciplinary contexts.

The Arts Work To Save Lives and Ecologies.
Tell the story of Potters for Peace, an organization of -ceramic artists developing innovative and aesthetically designed water-filtering ceramic technology in juxtaposition with public health and social justice concerns in order to confront the number one killer of children worldwide, unsanitary drinking water⁶⁷. In a postparadigmatic paradigm, arts advocacy should focus less on the idea of the arts as historical artifact, and give equal light to the arts as a source generating contemporary -solutions for age-old problems.

The Arts Work To Keep Technology Interfaces Human.
Tell the work of art educators Stephen Carpenter and Pamela Taylor and their juxtaposition of autobiographical and education theory data in the creation of computer hypertext utilizing text, images, and video in response to Jasper Johns’s 1983 painting Racing Thoughts. In a postparadigmatic paradigm, arts practice in art -education develops methodologies for coming to terms with living in “a technomediated culture that has changed forever the way we see” and a means to generate new methods for “informing and being informed by” works of art “in a way that reflects the technome-diated culture in which we live”⁶⁸.

The Arts Organize New Information About All We Continue To Hold Dear.
Tell the story I have outlined in this article. In a postparadigmatic paradigm, arts policy should advocate funding for arts initiatives that valorize informing arts practices as a present catalyst for social renewal and community enterprise, and not merely as a reservoir for perpetuating socio-cultural traditions.

In Conclusion
If we apply Löfgren’s insights to the quest for effective arts education policy, there will have to be a period where arts educators each live out and activate the change in their own arts practices and pedagogy as an individual “instantiation of semiotic change”⁶⁹ based on new language about the arts. We must accomplish this before we can reasonably expect “societal instantiation of semiotic change”⁷⁰ to fully manifest itself as new national purpose and public policy toward the arts. I have argued for the timeliness of a reconceived paradigm for understanding and advocating the relevancy of arts practices in the wake of the Information Age. This article rethinks the semiotics defining art in an era of shifting paradigms and the questioned relevance of the arts in education. My hope is that this policy exploration will serve to provide new language for arts and arts education practitioners first, and ultimately for those policy-makers we seek to influence.

Wiederabdruck
Dieser Text erschien zuerst in: International Journal of Education & the Arts, 9 (Interlude 1), 2008, www.ijea.org/v9i1

1.) Elliot W. Eisner, The arts and the creation of mind. New Haven & London 2002.
2.) S. Fish, “Will the humanities save us?”, The New York Times [Opinion], http://fish.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/01/06/will-the-humanities-save-us [1/8/2008]
3.) Harry S. Broudy, “Aesthetic education in a technological society: The other excuses of art”, Journal of Aesthetic Education, 1 (1), 1966, pp. 13–23, here p. 21.
4.) Charles Suhor, “Towards a semiotics-based curriculum”, Journal of Curriculum Studies, 16, 1984, pp. 247–257, here p. 250.
5.) Charles Hardwick (Ed.), Semiotics and significs: The correspondence between Charles S. Peirce and Victoria Lady Welby. Bloomington 1977, p. 31.
6.) Umberto Eco, A theory of semiotics. Bloomington 1976, p. 7.
7.) Deborah L. Smith-Shank, “Semiotic pedagogy and art education”, Studies in Art Education, 36 (4), 1995, pp. 233–241, here p. 235.
8.) NAEA, 2008, National Art Education Association advocacy web site www.naea-reston.org/news_advocacy_15flyers.html [2/26/2008].
9.) Roland Barthes, Mythologies. St. Albans and London 1973; Steve Baker, “The hell of connotation”, Word and Image, 1 (2), 1985, pp. 164–175; Terry Eagleton, Literary theory: An introduction. London 1983.
10.) Ferdinand de Saussure, Course in general linguistics. London 1974.
11.) Hanna Buczynska-Garewicz, “The interpretant and a system of signs”, Ars Semeiotica, 4, 1981, pp. 187–200, here p. 188.
12.) Eco 1976, p. 68.
13.) Daniel McCool, “The theoretical foundation of policy studies”, in: Idem (Ed.), Public policy theories, models, and concepts: An anthology. Englewood Cliffs, NJ 1995, pp. 1–27, here p. 4.
14.) David Silverman, A very short, fairly interesting and reasonably cheap book about qualitative research. London 2007, p. 71.
15.) Harold Pearse, “Brother, can you spare a paradigm? The theory beneath the practice”, Studies in Art Education, 24 (3), 1983, pp. 158–163; Harold Pearse, “Beyond paradigms: Art education theory and practice in a postparadigmatic world”, Studies in Art Education, 33 (4), 1992, pp. 244–252.
16.) Ted Aoki, “Toward curriculum inquiry in a new key”, in: James Victoria, Elizabeth Sacca (Eds.), Presentations on art education research: Phenomenological description, Potential for research in art education, 2, Montreal 1978, pp. 47–69.
17.) Jürgen Habermas, Knowledge and human interests. Boston 1971.
18.) Pearse 1983, op. cit.
19.) Op. cit., p. 159.
20.) Op. cit., p. 160.
21.) Op. cit., p. 161.
22.) Claude Lévi-Strauss quoted in John Berger, Ways of seeing. London 1972, p. 86.
23.) Theodor W. Adorno The culture industry: Selected essays on mass culture. London 1991.
24.) Richard Kearney, The wake of imagination: Toward a postmodern culture. Minneapolis 1988, p. 18.
25.) Pearse 1992, p. 250.
26.) Jean-François Lyotard, The postmodern condition: A report on knowledge. Minneapolis 1984.
27.) Steven Connor, “Postmodernist culture: An introduction to theories of the Contemporary”, in: Michal Payne (Ed.), A dictionary of cultural and critical theory, Oxford 1996, pp. 428-432, here p. 431.
28.) Pearse 1992, p. 249.
29.) Edward A. Shanken, “Art in the information age: Technology and conceptual art”, LEONARDO, 35 (4), 2002, pp. 433–438, here p. 434.
30.) E. L. Lankford, “Philosophy of art education: Focusing our vision”, Studies in Art Education, 33 (4), 1992, pp. 195–200, here p. 197.
31.) Op. cit., p. 197.
32.) Op. cit., p. 198.
33.) Ibid.
34.) Op. cit., p. 199.
35.) Smith-Shank, 1995.
36.) Cited in Silverman 2007, p. 72.
37.) jan jagodzinski, “A para-critical/sitical/sightical reading of Ralph Smith’s Excellence in art education”, Journal of Social Theory in Art Education, 11, 1991, pp. 119–159, here p. 149.
38.) Ralph Smith, “Justifying policy for aesthetic education”, Studies in Art Education, 20 (1), 1978, pp. 37–42, here p. 37.
39.) Smith 1978, p. 37, emphasis in original.
40.) Hans Löfgren, “Projecting a model of semiotic change”, boundary 2, 24 (2), 1997, pp. 245–268, here p. 256.
41.) Löfgren 1997, p. 246.
42.) jagodzinski 1991; Mary Ann Stankiewicz, Roots of art education practice. Massachusetts 2001.
43.) Mary Beth Cancienne, Celeste N. Snowber, “Writing rhythm: Movement as method”, Qualitative Inquiry, 9 (2), 2003, pp. 237–253, here p. 238.
44.) Gloria Ladson-Billings, “It’s your world, I’m just trying to explain it: Understanding our epistemological and methodological challenges”, Qualitative Inquiry, 9 (1), 2003, pp. 5–12, here p. 11.
45.) Alex Wright, Glut: Mastering information through the ages. Washington 2007, p. 10.
46.) Julia Marshall, “Visible thinking: Using contemporary art to teach conceptual skills”, Art Education, 61 (2), 2008, pp. 38–45.
47.) Wright 2007.
48.) Op. cit., p. 19.
49.) Op. cit., p. 7.
50.) Ibid.
51.) Paul Duncum, “Art education for new times”, Studies in Art Education, 38 (2), 1997, pp. 69–79.
52.) Op. cit., p. 69.
53.) Wright 2007, p. 6.
54.) James Elkins, Visual studies: A skeptical introduction. New York 2003; Gustavo E. Fischman, “Reflections about images, visual culture and educational Research”, Educational Researcher, 30 (8), 2001, pp. 28–33; Hal Foster, Vision and visuality. Seattle 1988; Kerry Freedman, “Social perspectives on art education in the U.S.: Teaching visual culture in a democracy”, Studies in Art Education, 41 (4), 2003, pp. 314–329; Nicholas Mirzoeff (Ed.), The visual culture reader. (2nd ed.) New York and London 2002; McLuhan, Understanding media: The extensions of man. Massachusetts 1964/1994.
55.) Paul Duncum, “Visual culture: Developments, definitions, and directions for art Education”, Studies in Art Education, 42 (2), 2001, pp. 101–112; Freedman 2000; Michelle Marder Kamhi, “Where’s the art in today’s art education?”, Arts Education Policy Review, 104 (4), 2003, pp. 9–12; Peter J. Smith, “Visual culture studies versus art education”, Arts Education Policy Review, 104 (4), 2003, pp. 3–8.
56.) Pearse 1992, p. 248.
57.) Cited by Wright 2007, p. 6.
58.) Löfgren 1997, p. 264.
59.) Pearse 1992, p. 250.
60.) Figure 1, as can be found on the blog via the QR code at the end of this text: Vitamin B12 as a Carrier for the Oral Delivery of Insulin. Amanda K. Petrus et al., “Vitamin B12 as a carrier for the oral delivery of insulin”, ChemMedChem, 2, 2007, pp. 1717–21.
61.) John W. Creswell, Research design: Qualitative & quantitative approaches. Thousand Oaks 1994, p. xvii.
62.) Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor, Richard Siegesmund (Eds.), Arts-based research in education: Foundations for practice. New York 2008, p. 1.
63.) Löfgren 1997, p. 263.
64.) Lankford 1992.
65.) Marshall 2008.
66.) Marshall 2008, p. 40.
67.) A recent story about Potters for Peace may be found at www.thebatt.com/home/index.cfm?event=displayArticlePrinterFriendly&uStory_id=1ff695c9-b065-42e2-81d2-22e0522787a4
68.) B. Stephen Carpenter, Pamela G. Taylor, “Racing thoughts: Altering our ways of knowing and being in art through computer hypertext”, Studies in Art Education, 45 (1), 2003, pp. 40–55, here p. 48.
69.) Löfgren, 1997, p. 260.
70.) Ibid.

Queer Art Education

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:17:04 +0000

Die nächste Gesellschaft wird eine Mediengesellschaft sein, die von ihren Mitgliedern immer neue Anpassungen verlangt und ihnen dafür immer wieder Möglichkeiten zur Nutzung und Subversion des Neuen bietet. Wahrscheinlich ist auch, dass die nächste Kunst sich weiterhin Kunst nennt oder auf Kunstbegriffe referiert und dass sie mehr oder weniger an die sozialen, gesellschaftlichen, ökonomischen, ökologischen und kulturellen Gegebenheiten ihrer Zeit angelehnt sein wird und dabei mehr oder weniger ihre eigenen (post)ästhe-tischen Spiele spielt – zitiert, klaut, fragmentiert, dogmatisiert und Gewissheiten wieder auflöst. Auch die nächste Gesellschaft und ihre kulturelle Produktion werden zur Bildung von Subjekten beitragen, und sie tun dies zunehmend mit ästhetischen Mitteln. Mediale Revolutionen dürfen die Körper und ihre soziale Verfasstheit nicht vergessen, denn sie werden sie nicht hinter sich lassen.
Meine Next Art Education ist eine Queer Art Education, auf der Suche nach einem Ort für die Auseinandersetzung der Kunstpädagogik mit jener nicht ganz geruchlosen Materie um Subjekt, Geschlechter, Körper und Affekt, die jeder ästhetischen Erfahrung zugrunde liegt. Doch auch die Suche nach einer Praxis, die nor-mativen und binären Denkweisen und Repräsentationen kritisch begegnet und bereit ist, der Performativität von Alltag und Normalität entgegenzutreten. Wo liegt dieser utopische Ort? Wie lassen sich Praxen und Methoden dafür entwickeln? Der Beitrag skizziert, wie -aktuelle Ansätze aus den kulturwissenschaftlichen Visual Culture Studies und der Queer Theory für dieses Projekt zusammengedacht werden können. Ich navigiere zudem entlang von derzeit noch subalternen Praxen der Kunstpädagogik und Kunstvermittlung, die das visuelle Primat anzweifeln und sich der Frage der next subjects in heterogenen Gesellschaften und in Kulturen der Sichtbarkeit und Kommunikation stellen. Die Next Art Education ist transversal und queer: Und sie ist ästhetisch, moralisch, politisch und pädagogisch involviert – oder sie ist nicht.

Foundations
In dem Maße, in dem sich zeitgenössische Kunst aus dem Atelier heraus und in Richtung von ästhetischen -Situationen, Wissensproduktion und dem Inszenieren von Räumen und flüchtigen Begegnungen bewegte, sich also, wie Claire Doherty formulierte, „from studio to -situation“ entwickelte, sind Fragen der Subjektivierung in Kunstsituationen wichtig geworden. Subjekte bilden sich angesichts von Kunst nicht als universelle ästhetische Subjekte der Rezeption, sondern als je spezifische, dem Moment verhaftet. Sie bringen ihr Gewordensein mit, und damit jene interdependenten, sich kreuzenden Kategorien wie Geschlecht, soziale und kulturelle Herkunft, Ethnie, Alter, Sexualität, Aussehen etc. Die -nicht-schließende Arbeit der Kunst an ihren Subjekten, die Situationen offenhält, einfache Binaritäten und -Urteile aussetzt und dazu auffordert, nicht dem ersten Anblick zu trauen, ist zum einen ein exzellenter Ausgangspunkt für eine Queer Art Education.¹ Zum anderen nehmen Mechanismen des Sichtbar-Machens und Zu-Sehen-Gebens selbst in Kooperationen, in Aktionen der Kunstvermittlung und bei Performance-basierten Akten eine zentrale Rolle ein, und es besteht eine bemerkenswerte Blindheit gegenüber der Tatsache, dass auch kunstpädagogische Lehr- und Versuchsanordnungen Subjekte unter gegebenen Regeln vor- und aufführen – wenn sie nicht eine eigene Position im Feld von Repräsentation und Performanz formulieren.
Art Education queer, von der Uneindeutigkeit und vom Rand her zu denken, folgt einem Begehren, die Identitätsbildung oder Subjektwerdung von Kindern, Jugendlichen oder (jungen) Erwachsenen kritisch zu begleiten. Nicht zu verwechseln ist die Thematisierung von Körpern und Sexualität in der Kunstpädagogik mit einer Sexualisierung oder einem Sexismus – im Gegenteil ist es eine anti-sexistische Arbeit: ein Einsatz gegen die -Sexualität des Mainstream und die damit verbundenen Anforderungen und Normen, zum richtigen Zeitpunkt die „richtigen“ Entwicklungsschritte zu tun.² Für enger an die sexualpädagogische Richtung angelehnte Lesarten von Queer (Art) Education könnte es durchaus darum gehen, Tabus der Sexualität als gesellschaftliche, auf verschiedene Weisen, z. B. zweigeschlechtlich und heterosexuell, enggeführter Norm, zu enttabuisieren und zum Thema zu machen; und den sexuellen bzw. sexualisierten Mainstream (auch der Kunst) durch gestalterische und ästhetische Einsätze problematisierend querzulesen, verschiebend aufzunehmen und umzuarbeiten.
Ich beziehe mich dagegen nicht allein auf Gender und Sexualität, sondern auf verschiedene Dimensionen der Subjekte und der Körper, die kategorial verfasst sind und sich in der Mediengesellschaft zunehmend auf visuelle Repräsentationen stützen. Diverse Selbstbilder und Angebote zur Identifizierung zirkulieren. Doch Körper müssen aufhören, sich visuell zu denken. Einen Schritt auf dem Weg dahin stellen die Lektüren der (queer)feministischen Visual Culture dar, die für einen differenzierten Umgang mit den scheinbar unmittelbar verständlichen Bildrepertoires der Alltagskultur plädieren und die mit diesen verbundenen materiellen Praktiken und Wahrnehmungslogiken hinterfragen,³ bzw. Termini wie Sichtbarkeit oder Repräsentation auf eine mögliche queere visuelle Politik hin untersuchen.⁴

Produktive Devianzen
Filmtheoretikerinnen aus der zweiten Welle des Feminismus wie Silverman und Mulvey formulierten eine Kritik des Visuellen, die sich am Blick und an der vereindeutigenden, von Machtverhältnissen durchzogenen Schaulust (visual pleasure) abarbeitete. Einer queerfeministischen third wave, an der Queer Art Education ansetzt, geht es nicht um eine einfache Kritik, sondern um die Frage nach dem Umarbeiten der Bilder vom Körper und der Performanz der Normen selbst. „I didn’t come out of the closet to live in a box“, formuliert eine Protagonistin in Working on it.⁵Auf das Durcharbeiten von Subjektivität zielt José -Esteban Muñoz’ prominenter Begriff der Ent-Identifi-zierung oder disidentification ab, die er als „ein gleich-zeitiges Arbeiten an, mit und gegen dominante ideologische Strukturen“ beschreibt.⁶ Ein solcher Prozess würde die genannten Differenzkategorien und ihre -intersektionelle Verflechtung weder zurückweisen noch anerkennen, sodass sie keine festen Aussagen mehr dar- und herzustellen vermögen. Das Verlernen von Privilegien, un-learning, das Gayatri Chakravorty -Spivak dem weißen, postkolonialen Norden empfahl, beschreibt im übrigen eine ähnliche, dezentrierende -Bewegung. Queer Art Education kann sich so als de-konstruktive Arbeit an diskursiver und visueller Bedeutungsproduktion verstehen, die mit ihren Mitteln die Norm liest und auf ihre Lücken abklopft. Sie vermeidet klare Verhältnisse und lernt stattdessen, mit heterogenen Phänomenen und Vielheit im Leben umzugehen.⁷Die halb negierten Begriffe queerer und dekonstruktiver Theorie stehen für offene Fragen und utopische Forderungen, sie fordern deviante Praxen oder Lektüren ein, die Reformatierungen der Wahrnehmung anstoßen oder nach sich ziehen können. Das Ungefasste, Unfassbare stellt eine Aufforderung dar, sich Welt anders anzueignen und ihre Ambivalenzen zutage zu fördern. Die Politik des Queeren steht so für Ansätze einer transformatorischen Bildung zwischen Selbst und Welt, beginnend, aber nicht endend, bei Geschlechtern und Sexualitäten, die die Normativität des „Normalen“ nicht unhinterfragt hinnimmt.

Körper: Queere Aspekte
Last but not least hat sich eine Queer Art Education der Frage zu stellen, wie der Körper zurück ins Spiel kommen kann, ohne ihn auf Wesen und Essenz zu re-duzieren. Wie lässt sich Sehen als dominierender Differenzsinn ausschalten? Mit welchen Mitteln kommen andere Arten und Quellen der Wahrnehmung und des Austauschs zu ihrem Recht? Was sehen wir anders, wenn wir uns blind machen? Die radikale Performancepädagogik von Pocha Nostra nutzt zum Einstieg in Workshops Übungen im Dunkeln und arbeitet mit Gruppen konstant über mehrere Tage, um Relationen und Vertrauen aufzubauen. Kenntnis der Bewegung, -Berührung, Gerüche und Farben der Körper, auch körperliche Nähe, sind Teil des Workshops und führen am letzten Tag zu erstaunlichen Tableaux vivants, die nicht identitär funktionieren und doch zur Identifikation einladen: mit dem Uneindeutigen und Subversiven.⁸ Die Kritik an der visuellen Fixierung der Kultur trifft aktuell in der Theoriebildung auf Ansätze für eine queere Phänomenologie der Sinne, die die Rolle hierarchisch niedriger angeordneter Sinne wie Haptik, Geruchs- und Hörsinn bei kulturellen Phänomenen mitzudenken -versucht. Ziel dieser Verschiebung oder Trübung der alten Vorrangstellung des Blicks ist es jedoch nicht, das Leibliche wieder in der Kunstpädagogik zu reinstallieren; vielmehr geht es um eine Vorstellung von Körpern als sozialer, akut und relational entstehender Konstruktion, wie es die Performance-Kunst oder Live Art und das postdramatische Theater vorgemacht haben. Dies wäre ein Ausgangspunkt, um Begriffe wie Rezeption oder ästhetische Erfahrung neu zu füllen und als relationale ästhetische Situation/en zu beschreiben.⁹ Wie werden wir dem Intersubjektiven solcher Situationen gerecht, oder dem, was zwischen menschlichen und nichtmenschlichen Akteur_innen passiert? Queer theory stellt den Blick scharf für die Produktivität affektiver, materieller, medialer und körperlicher Konstellationen. Als produktive Rezeption, deren Subjekte in ihrer ambivalenten und komplexen Gewordenheit und ihrem Bezug zur Gesellschaft, in ihrem Begehren und ihren affektiven Bezügen ernst genommen werden, ohne dies(e) auf einen Mangel zurückzuführen oder zu pathologisieren im Sinne psychoanalytischer Meistererzählungen.
Mit der Unbestimmtheit und Bewegtheit der queer theory als nicht-essentialistischem epistemischem Projekt im Hintergrund sollten denn auch Theoriebewegungen wie der affective turn und der material turn (und weitere zuvor: iconic, performative und spatial turn) auf mögliche Arten des Einbezuges in die Kunstvermittlung untersucht werden; ohne soziale und politische Bedingtheiten zu vergessen oder die in ihnen enthaltenen Machtbeziehungen aus dem Auge zu lassen. Körper müssen nicht nur verlernen, sich visuell zu denken, sie sollen sich in eine Beziehung zu ihrer Umwelt, ihrem Umfeld, setzen – und das heißt auch zu verlernen, sich von außen und von den Bedürfnissen, Anforderungen und Normierungen Anderer her zu bestimmen und identifizieren.
Queer Art Education ist der Versuch, eine relationale Perspektive einzunehmen, die Bezug auf etwas nimmt, eine Untersuchung zugleich, die sich den Beziehungen zwischen den Dingen zuwendet. Eine „Orientierung hin zu den Dingen“, nennt es Sara Ahmed 2006 in Queer Phenomenology, die die eigene Position zu klären hilft und sie zugleich auch verunklärt.¹⁰ Und ein Versuch, das Ästhetische wieder auf (politische) Begriffe zu bringen, die soziale und ethische Ambivalenzen in sich tragen. Gleichwohl müsste all das noch entwickelt werden: Es gibt sie noch nicht, die Queer Art Education.

1.) Vgl. Judith Butler, Kritik der ethischen Gewalt. Frankfurt/M. 2007.
2.) Queer Art Education beinhaltet insofern auch das Verteidigen von Asexualität.
3.) Sigrid Schade und Silke Wenk, Studien zur visuellen Kultur. Bielefeld 2011.
4.) Sigrid Adorf, Kerstin Brandes (Hg.), Kunst, Sichtbarkeit, Queer Theory. FKW // Zeitschrift für Geschlechterforschung und Visuelle Kultur, 45, 2008.
5.) Coming out (of the closet) und being out sind Begriffe der frühen LGBT(Q)-Bewegung; wörtlich: aus dem Kleiderschrank kommen, rauskommen, draußen sein; dt.: sich outen. Übersetzung des Zitats: „Ich habe mich doch nicht geoutet [bin doch nicht aus dem Kleiderschrank gekommen], um wieder in einer Schublade zu leben.“ Vgl. Working on it. Ein Film von Karin Michalski und Sabian Baumann, CH/D, 50 Min., 2008.
6.) José Esteban Muñoz, Disidentification – Queers of Color and the Performance of Politics. Minneapolis 1999. Dt. Zitat aus: José Esteban Muñoz, „Queerness’ Labor oder die Arbeit der Disidentifikation“, in: Renate Lorenz (Hg.), Normal Love, Berlin 2007, S. 34–39, hier S. 35.
7.) Jutta Hartmann, Vielfältige Lebensweisen. Opladen 2002.
8.) Guillermo Gomez-Peña und Roberto Sifuentes, Exercises for Rebel Artists. London/New York 2011.
9.) Begriff der ästhetischen Situation hier nach Gerald Raunig, Charon. Eine Ästhetik der Grenzüberschreitung. Wien 1999; zitiert bei Eva Sturm, Von Kunst aus. Kunstvermittlung mit Gilles Deleuze. Wien 2011.
10.) Sara Ahmed, Queer Phenomenology: Orientation, objects, others. Durham 2006.

“Schmuggeln”. Eine verkörperte Kritikalität

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:17:03 +0000

Es geht hier um ein Gemeinschaftsprojekt des britischen Analytikers Simon Harvey, der dafür die theore-tischen Grundlagen entwickelt hat,¹ des türkischen Videofilmers Ergin Cavusoglu, der sich als Künstler mit der Praxis des Schmuggelns befasst hat², und von mit selbst, die ich als Akademikerin und Kuratorin tätig bin. Es handelt sich dabei um eine Arbeit, die wir zur Zeit gemeinsam mit vielen anderen in Angriff nehmen. Unser Ziel ist es, unsere Arbeit so zu verstehen, dass sie ganz neue Themen entwickelt, die für unsere Welt heute wichtig sind. Es handelt sich darum, einzusehen und zu verstehen, dass weder traditionelle Themenstellungen noch erschöpfte Denk- und Arbeitsformen mehr ausreichen, um die komplexe Wirklichkeit, in der wir leben, zu erfassen und ihr gerecht zu werden.
Der Begriff des „Schmuggelns“ umfasst weit mehr als abenteuerliche Manöver oder Schachzüge. Er spiegelt die Suche nach einer intellektuellen und kulturellen Praxis, die Konjunktionen hinter sich Konjunktionen, in denen wir gerne „Kunst und Politik“, „Theorie und Praxis“, „Analyse und Aktion“ zusammen denken und miteinander verbinden. In dieser Handhabung suchen wir die Beziehungen zwischen den beiden Begriffen als eine einzige zu erfahren. Als Einheit, die nicht weiter in Ihre unterschiedlichen und unabhängigen Komponenten zerlegt werden kann. Die Konzeption einer „verkörperten Kritikalität“ (embodied criticality) hat viel damit zu tun, dass es meiner Meinung nach ganz wichtig ist, einen Wandel einzuleiten und von der Kritik (critique) zur Kritikalität (criticality) überzugehen. Das wäre eine Veränderung, von der ich denke, dass sie für die zeitgenössische Kulturpraxis ganz wesentlich ist.
Kurz gesagt geht es dabei darum, ein Denkmodell zu überwinden, in dessen Vorstellung sich hinter manifesten Kulturphänomenen latente Werte und Ziele verbergen, die durch endlose Prozeduren des Enthüllens und Auslegens sichtbar gemacht werden müssen. Durch -literarische und andere Texte, durch Bilder und andere Formen künstlerischer Praxis versucht die Kritische Analyse (Critical Analysis), verborgene Bedingungen, uneingestandene Begierden und Machtverhältnisse in kulturellen Phänomenen aufzudecken. Dazu bedient sie sich strukturalistischer, poststrukturalistischer und postpoststrukturalistischer Methoden und Werkzeuge, von denen es ja sehr viele gibt. Mit ihrer Hilfe ist es uns gelungen, die verborgenen Bedeutungen kultureller Strömungen und die offenen oder geheimen Zwecke, denen sie dienen, zu enthüllen und zu enträtseln, zu exponieren und kenntlich zu machen. Aber es gibt hier ein Problem, weil dabei von der Annahme ausgegangen wird, Bedeutung sei den Dingen immanent, sie sei stets da und warte nur darauf, enthüllt zu werden.

Kritikalität
In dem Maße, in dem wir zunehmend mit dem performativen Charakter von Kultur befasst sind und mit Bedeutungen, die sich im Verhältnis zu Ereignissen entfalten, müssen wir uns von Vorstellungen eines immanenten Sinns verabschieden, den man erforschen, ausstellen und deutlich machen kann. Eine Zeit lang sind wir von der Annahme ausgegangen, eine Lehre, die an die Oberfläche bringt, was auf dem Grunde manifester Phänomene verborgen ist, und ein Lernen, das die Dinge auf diese Weise durchschaut, wäre alles, was wir bräuchten. Das, so dachten wir, würde die Naivität unserer Studenten besiegen helfen. Es würde ihnen helfen, mit ihren naturwüchsigen Vorurteilen fertig zu werden, und am Ende wären sie dann „kritisch“, wie wir das in der Terminologie einer konventionellen Pädagogik nannten. Natürlich ist es wichtig, zu einem kritischen Urteil befähigt zu werden. Der kritische Verstand operiert mit Zeichen und Symbolen. Aber er weckt nicht die Intuition der Menschen. Er bringt sie nicht zur Kritikalität, die sich mit ihrem Untersuchungsgegenstand identifiziert, anstatt ihn nur zu analysieren (to produce criticality through inhabiting a problem rather than analysing it). Das gilt für jede Erziehung, ob sie nun eher praktisch oder theoretisch ausgerichtet ist. Es gilt auch für das Erleben von Kunst und von anderen Kulturphänomenen. Bei unserem Wechsel von der Kritik zur Kritikalität mussten wir uns nicht nur vor den extremen Verkürzungen hüten, die sich aus der „Kontextualisierung“ des Werks ergeben, und vor falschen Verkürzungen, die durch seine Isolierung in Gattungen und Disziplinen entstehen, sondern wir hatten auch auf Folgendes zu achten:
– Sinn wird nie durch Vereinzelung oder isolierende Prozesse gewonnen, sondern eher durch ein komplexes Netz von Querverbindungen.
– Teilnehmer, seien sie nun ein Publikum, Studenten oder Forscher, generieren Sinn nie einfach dadurch, dass sie ihre Subjektivität auf Werke projizieren, um sie so zu Ende zu denken. Sondern Sinn wird durch Beziehungen zu anderen begründet durch die Zeitlichkeit eines Ausstellungsereignisses oder einer Klasse, einer Demonstration, eines Displays.
– Akademiekurse, Kunstwerke, Themenausstellungen, Politpublikationen und andere Foren, die sich der Kulturarbeit widmen, haben keine unmittelbare Bedeutung, aber sie fungieren als Möglichkeitsfelder für ein unterschiedliches Publikum bei unterschiedlichen -kulturellen Bedingungen und extrem unterschiedlichen Temperamenten, um zu Sinn und Bedeutung zu kommen.
– Und schließlich: bei einem reflektierten Wechsel von der analytischen hin zur performativen Funktion von Beobachtung und Teilhabe sind wir uns darüber einig, dass Bedeutung nicht „ausgelegt“ wird, sondern dass sie „stattfindet“.
Letzteres belegt nicht nur beispielhaft die Dynamik, mit der wir Kunstwerke in Ausstellungen und im öffentlichen Raum ansehen, mit ihnen kommunizieren und von ihnen lernen, sondern darin spiegelt sich auch die unterschiedliche Art und Weise, in der wir in den letzten Jahren mit Theorie und Kritik umgehen. Mir scheint, wir sind in relativ kurzer Zeit von einem Kritizismus zur Kritik und dann zu dem, was ich gegenwärtig als Kritikalität bezeichne, geschritten. Das heißt, wir haben uns von einem Kritizismus, in dem es darum geht, Fehler zu finden und ein Urteil nach einem bestimmten Bewertungskanon zu fällen, hinbewegt zu einer Kritik, die tiefer liegende Bedeutungen und Voraussetzungen entdeckt und aufdeckt und auf Plausibilität und Logik hin prüft und untersucht. Am Ende sind wir weiter geschritten zu einer Kritikalität, wo der Kritiker von unsicherem Boden aus agiert und sich mit seinem Untersuchungsgegenstand solidarisiert, indem er sich zu einem Teil von ihm macht. Damit will ich sagen, dass die Kritikalität, auch wenn sie auf der Kritik aufbaut, Kultur in einer ganz anderen Weise wahrnimmt als die analytische Kritik; und natürlich auch anders wahrnimmt als eine Kritik, der nur daran gelegen ist, Fehler herauszustreichen, Auslassungen kenntlich zu machen und Schuld zuzuweisen.
Nur – was kommt nach der kritischen Analyse der Kultur?
Was nach der endlosen Auflistung verborgener Strukturen, unsichtbarer Kräfte und zahlloser Verletzungen, die uns schon so lange beschäftigen und Gegenstand unserer Untersuchungen sind?
Was nach den Prozessen des Markierens und Exponierens all derer, die das System ein- oder ausschließt?
Was nach den großen, Sinn stiftenden Erzählungen, den geltenden Vermessungen des kulturellen Erbes und der kulturellen Ordnung?
Was nach der Feier neuer, minoritärer Gruppenidentitäten und was nach der emphatischen Anerkennung der Leiden anderer als Leistung an und für sich? Was mich an „Kritikalität“ interessiert (und mir ist klar, dass dies ein unpräziser und nicht gänzlich zufrieden stellender Begriff ist nicht zuletzt, weil er bereits durch verschiedene Bedeutungen besetzt ist, an denen ich überhaupt kein Interesse habe – nur im Augenblick steht mir kein besserer zur Verfügung), ist, dass sie die Analysierenden und die Analysierten in einer unzerstörbaren Allianz zusammenbringt. In dem, was ich „Kritikalität“ nenne, ist es nicht möglich, außerhalb des untersuchten Problems zu stehen und es als interesselosen Gegenstand des Studiums zu objektivieren. Im Rahmen einer Kritikalität kann uns sehr wohl klar sein, dass wir uns mit theoretischem Wissen armieren. Dass wir über äußerst raffinierte Analyseinstrumente verfügen. Aber gleichwohl durchleben wir die Bedingungen auch, die wir analysieren, und müssen mit ihnen fertig werden. Deshalb beschreibt die Kritikalität ein Stadium der Dualität. Wir nehmen an beiden Polen teil: Wir sind machtvoll und machtlos, wissend und unwissend zugleich. So verschiebt sich Hannah Arendts Verständnis vom „Mitleidenden“ um eine wichtige Bedeutungsnuance. Es scheint, die Kritikalität ist in sich selbst ein Modus der Verkörperung, ein Stadium, aus dem wir nicht herauskommen und zu dem wir keine kritische Distanz gewinnen und das sich mit unserem Wissen und unserer Erfahrung in nicht-komplementärer Weise verbindet. Anders als die „Weisheit“, wo wir, wie es aussieht, aus unserer Erfahrung lernen, stürzt uns die Kritikalität in ein Stadium tiefer Frustration, weil unser ganzes Wissen und all unsere Einsichten wenig vermögen, um die Bedingungen zu erleichtern, die wir hier durchleben. Daher könnten Sie mich zu Recht fragen, was das Ganze dann soll? Nun, ich würde Ihnen antworten, der Sinn jeder Form von kritischer oder theoretischer Betätigung zielt nie in erster Linie auf die Lösung des Problems, sondern stets auf ein geschärftes Bewusstsein der betrachteten Situation. Und so ist der Sinn von Kritikalität auch nicht primär das Finden einer Antwort, sondern eher eine andere Form der Durchdringung (inhabitation). Philosophisch könnten wir von Ontologie sprechen, die dafür eintritt, „die Dinge zu durchleben“. Das hat im Gegensatz dazu, dass man sie nur ausspricht, den, statt nur ein Urteil darüber abzugeben, eine große, verändernde Kraft. So lange diese Tätigkeit dauert, also während der Durchdringungsphase, verändern wir uns möglicherweise auch. Aber das tun wir nur, weil wir in dem Problem stehen und es miterleben. Weil wir ein Teil von ihm werden, statt nur ein Urteil darüber abzugeben. Darauf versuche ich mit dem Begriff der „verkörperten Kritikalität“ hinzuweisen.
Aber nun gibt es ein aktuelles Projekt, das einen Kurator verlangt, und es gibt den Versuch, dieses Projekt als eine „verkörperte Kritikalität“ zu realisieren. Warum benutze ich in Hinsicht auf die kuratorische -Tätigkeit den Begriff des „Schmuggelns“? Ganz einfach, weil er sich gut verträgt mit vielen wichtigen Fragen und Themen, die uns im Augenblick bewegen. Ganz offensichtlich muss er im europäischen Kontext nicht erläutert werden. Es genügt, wenn wir daran denken, dass wir uns mit Migration beschäftigen. Mit den legalen und illegalen Menschenbewegungen, mit ihren ungeheuren politischen Folgen, den Feindseligkeiten, Ängsten, politischen Schachzügen, falschen Ökonomien und so weiter. Denken wir an die Ereignisse in London und Paris während der letzten Jahre, an den Wahnsinn der Seelensuche, an Verdrängung und an die sozialpolitischen Verwerfungen und ihre gesetzlichen Folgen! Wenn wir an all das denken, müssen wir uns eingestehen, dass die Migration der Menschen zu weit größeren Veränderungen geführt hat als die Demografie uns glauben machen möchte. Und sie führt zu einer ebenso notwendigen wie gänzlich unerbetenen Neubetrachtung (manchmal auch Negation) von Freiheits-, Eigentums- und Bürgerrechten.
Vor diesem Hintergrund scheint mir das „Schmuggeln“ ein außergewöhnlich wirkmächtiges Modell zu sein. Der Schmuggler weiß die Spuren zu finden, welche die Wissenden und Besitzenden, die Exponierten und Parteiischen hinterlassen. Ein Modell, um den Wegen des Wissens, der Materialien, der Sichtbarkeit und der Parteinahme nachzuspüren. Den Spuren all jener dynamischen Aktionen, die für die Konzeption neuer kultureller Praktiken wichtig sind. Darüber hinaus möchte ich untersuchen – und dies ist mir gleichermaßen wichtig –, ob das Schmuggeln mit all seinen notwendigen „Schattenspielen“ eine aktive politische Rolle des „in-der-Welt-Seins“ übernehmen kann, wie Merleau-Ponty das genannt hat? Ob das Schmuggeln ein Modus sein kann für Künstler, Kuratoren und für Kritikalität?
Im Zentrum des „Schmuggelns“ steht ganz offensichtlich die Schmuggelware in ihrer Materialität und Faktizität. Und eine der Fragen, die wir stellen müssen, ist, wie sich unsere kritische Subjektivität zur Schmuggelware verhält und was für neue Formen kritischer -Ermächtigung daraus hervorgehen? Außerdem wollen wir fragen, ob Schmuggeln die Kommunikation befördert und wir daraus eine neue Theorie der Mobilität schöpfen und gestalten können. Eine Theorie, die das Schmuggeln stärker in Nähe zum Begriff der „Feldforschung“ (field work) rückt. Das heißt, hin zu Arbeitsfeldern (work of fields), nicht zur Arbeit auf den Feldern (work in fields). Es ist ein Begriff, den wir gegenwärtig zum Selbst-Verständnis unserer Praxis verwenden.
Wir haben nun schon eine ganze Zeit lang unterschieden zwischen dem „Kuratieren“ (curating), also der Praxis, eine Ausstellung einzurichten, mit den verschiedenen professionellen Kompetenzen, die das erfordert, und dem „Kuratorischen“ (curatorial), also der Möglichkeit, dieser Tätigkeit durch bestimmte Bedingungen und Freiheiten einen gewissen Rahmen zu geben. Im Bereich des „Kuratorischen“ sehen wir verschiedene Prinzipien wirksam werden, die man nicht unbedingt mit dem Ausstellen von Kunstwerken in Verbindung bringt. Prinzipien der Wissensproduktion, des Aktivismus, kultureller Zirkulationen und Übersetzungen, die wiederum beginnen, andere Formen zu gestalten und zu bestimmen, in denen die Kunst sich dann wieder engagieren kann. In gewisser Hinsicht meint das „Kuratorische“ ein kritisches Denken, das indes nicht vorwärts drängt, um sich zu materialisieren oder zu konkretisieren. Das uns aber erlaubt, bei den wichtigen Fragen zu bleiben, bis diese uns in eine Richtung weisen, die wir sonst nicht gesehen hätten.
Ich versuche gerade, mich wegzubewegen von jeder Intention, Illustration oder Exemplifizierung. Das ist eine Bewegung, die keine guten – oder auch weniger guten – Ideen liefern will, garniert mit vielen, ausführlichen Beispielen. Denn die konventionelle kuratorische Arbeit die sich an dieser Strategie ausrichtet, wiederholt ganz schlicht schon existierende Gegenstände. Ob es sich dabei nun um „Konzeptuelle Kunst 1966–1978“, das „Phantasma des Urbanen“ oder den „Späten Rem-brandt“ handelt oder was sonst noch an formalen oder sozial-historischen Themen vorformatiert und gebrauchsfertig in Umlauf war und ist. Darüber hinaus gibt es dann noch einige höchst performative Ausstellungen. Sie haben einen sehr spezifischen Ehrgeiz und setzen ihre Gegenstände in Welten, die sie selbst gern bewohnen würden. Zum Beispiel solche, wie ich sie in Osteuropa gesehen habe. Das Ergebnis sind dann Ausstellungen wie „Vilnius/New York“ oder „Budapest/New York“ oder woanders dann auch „Tokio/Paris“. Ihr Zustandekommen verdankt sich der Sehnsucht, eine für bewundernswert oder erstrebenswert erachtete Welt zu betreten und auf Zeit zu bewohnen. Obwohl diese Ausstellungen allem Anschein nach recht banal sind, finde ich sie doch interessanter als die standardisierten Schauen, denn sie verweisen auf eine unaussprechliche Sehnsucht. Und was Menschen ersehnen, ist allemal interessanter, als was sie bewusst und wissentlich konsumieren.
Sich in Richtung auf das „Kuratorische“ hin zu bewegen ist eine Möglichkeit, seine Arbeit von allen „Fesseln“ zu befreien, von allen Kategorien und Praktiken, die ihre Möglichkeit und Fähigkeit beschränken, das zu erforschen, was wir noch nicht kennen oder was bisher noch kein Thema in der Welt war.
Seit einigen Jahren habe ich mich mit Geografien und Territorien beschäftigt, mit Grenzen und Bewegungen, wobei ich stets Jacques Derridas Überzeugung im Kopf hatte, dass Grenzen, ob sie nun eng oder weit gefasst sind, nichts Anderes darstellen als die Grenzen des Möglichen. Daher – und das war für meine Zwecke vielleicht am wichtigsten – habe ich versucht, mir klar zu machen, was das „Unbegrenzte“ sein könnte: ein unbegrenzter Raum, ein unbegrenztes Handeln, ein unbegrenztes Wissen. Wenn ich versuche, diese Themen in Zusammenhang mit dem Kuratorischen zu denken, dann würde ich gerne den Begriff des „Schmuggelns“ als Modell und Gegenstand kuratorischen Denkens und Handelns einführen. Einerseits erlaubt mir das, dynamische Verbindungen herzustellen zwischen Kuratieren, kritischem Denken und aktuellen Problemen, die neu auftauchen, und der Möglichkeit, mit ihnen umzugehen. Auf der anderen Seite geht es dabei auch um ein aktuelles Projekt, das – wie schon gesagt – eine Gruppe von uns im Augenblick entwickelt: der Theoretiker Simon Harvey, der Künstler Ergin Cavusoglu, ich und Mitglieder eines neuen Programms am Goldsmiths College, das „Research Architecture“ heißt. Wir hoffen von diesem Projekt, dass es auch ein Ausstellungsprojekt wird. Im Augenblick sprechen wir vom „Schmuggeln“ in zweierlei Hinsicht: als Gegenstand unseres Projektes und methodologisch als modus operandi. Wir versuchen nicht, das „Schmuggeln“ durch verschiedene Kunstwerke zu illustrieren, sondern es als Strategie ins Spiel zu bringen. Eine Strategie, die uns erlaubt, unsere Überlegungen zu globalen Austauschprozessen, kultureller Differenz, Übersetzungen, Legitimitäten, sicheren Wohnverhältnissen, Sichtbarkeit und abweichenden Identitäten vorzustellen und damit hoffentlich auch das „Schmuggeln“ als neues Thema in die Welt zu bringen.
Nach welchen Prinzipien funktioniert das „Schmuggeln“, wie wir es verstehen? Zuerst einmal ist es eine Form heimlichen Transfers. Ein klammheimlicher Transfer von einem Bereich in einen anderen. Die Passage der Schmuggelware von einem zum anderen Ort ist nicht sanktioniert; sie folgt keinem erkennbaren Protokoll. Das Schmuggeln ist so prekär, wie das Prekäre für viele Facetten unseres gegenwärtigen Lebens charakteristisch ist.
Das Schmuggeln ist im Prinzip Bewegung. Eine fließend sich ausbreitende Bewegung, die Grenzen ignoriert. Innerhalb dieser Bewegung bleibt die Identität der Subjekte im Dunkeln. Sie sind nicht sichtbar, nicht identifizierbar. Sie operieren ganz wie Ideen und Vorstellungen, die Räume in illegitimer Weise besetzen. Ideen, die dort, wo sie sind, nicht wirklich zu Hause sind. Sie sind nicht aufgehoben in einer Wissensstruktur, sondern treiben und blühen zwischen den Dingen, ohne in einer legitimen Umgebung zur Ruhe zu kommen. Die Linie, an der entlang das Schmuggeln verläuft, zeichnet nicht alte Grenzlinien nach, sondern gleitet um sie herum. Es stellt sie performativ in Frage, zerstört sie, ohne dass sich dieser Akt als Konflikt darstellt. In Ergin Cavusoglus Videoinstallation „Downward Straights“ (2004) gleitet ein großes, schwarzes Boot mitten in der Nacht die Wasser des Bosporus’ herunter. Die hellen Lichter von -Istanbul im Hintergrund betonen noch seine Schwärze. Das Boot ist ein Schmuggelschiff, eines von vielen, die auf ihre Chance warten. Sie kommt, wenn die Pilotboote nicht fahren, welche die Dickschiffe normalerweise durch den Kanal leiten, der das Schwarze Meer und das Marmarameer miteinander verbindet. Anstatt unter Führung eines gelernten Piloten navigieren diese Boote mit Hilfe eines freien und gemeinschaftlich betriebenen Radiokanals. Über ihn warnen sie sich vor den vielen Hindernissen, die im Dunkeln auf sie warten. Es ist völlig überraschend, Schmuggeln in dieser Form als ein Gemeinschaftsprojekt zu erleben, denn normalerweise kennen wir es als Unternehmung rebellischer Individuen. Was mich indes an dieser Art des Schmuggelns im Besonderen interessiert, ist, dass dabei keine Linie übertreten wird, keine „Grenze“ im klassischen Sinne. Sondern das Schmuggeln schafft eine Parallelwirtschaft zu einer Wirtschaft, deren Strukturen es immer wieder übertritt, um sich wohnlich darin einzurichten. Dabei werden die Grenzlinien in einen bewohnbaren Raum konvertiert, den auch ein anderer in Besitz nehmen könnte, der dort entlang schifft, bis wieder der Augenblick kommt, die Seiten zu wechseln.
Als Ausstellungspraxis erlaubt diese Form des Schmuggelns, die stets aufs Neue die Grenzlinien ihres vermeintlichen Ausschlusses nachzeichnet, dem Kuratorischen, zum interdisziplinären Feld zu werden. Das geschieht ohne Bezug zu einer Meisterdisziplin (wie bei Kunstausstellungen, die durch Kontext- und anderes Material angereichert werden), sondern als Versammlung von Entitäten, die in ein dynamisches Verhältnis zueinander gebracht werden.
In dem Reader „Sarai 05“ – einer Buchreihe, die jährlich von der indischen Initiative Sarai herausgegeben wird – gibt es einen bemerkenswerten Beitrag von Lawrence Liang mit dem Titel „Porous Legalities and Avenues of Participation“³. Darin zitiert er einen langen Text von Raqs Media Collective, den Mitinitiatoren von Sarai, über die Rolle von Netzwerken und „Seepages“, die von Migranten, Hackern, Piraten, Ausländern und illegalen Siedlern bedient werden. Diese Menschen, so Raqs, reisen mit den historischen Netzwerken, von denen sie ein Teil sind, und zugleich sind sie in der Lage, das beeindruckende, ubiquitäre Insiderwissen der heutigen Welt zu nutzen. „Wie funktioniert dieses Netzwerk, und wie schleicht es sich in unser Bewusstsein? Wir denken darüber gerne in Begriffen von ‚Seepage‘ nach. Unter ‚Seepage‘ verstehen wir eine Aktion, bei der viele Strömungen aus fluidem Stoff eine stabile Struktur angreifen und sie leckschlagen. Sie greifen ihre Oberfläche genauso an wie ihren Kern. Bis die Struktur sich schließlich auflöst und am Ende zum Teil der Strömung wird. In allgemeinerem Sinn verstehen wir ‚Seepage‘ als Akt, bei dem durch die äußeren Poren einer Struktur in ihr Inneres gedrungen und so die Struktur als Ganze geschwächt wird. Anfangs bleibt der Prozess unsichtbar, dann allmählich wird die Form disfiguriert, wobei man sich als Betrachter ängstlich fragt, wie stark und haltbar die Struktur wohl sein wird.“³Einer der interessantesten Aspekte des „Schmuggelns“ ist, dass es uns als Modell erlaubt, die Beziehungen neu zu überdenken zwischen dem, was man ganz klar sieht, dem, was man teilweise sieht, und dem Unsichtbaren. Wir denken hier beispielsweise an die Logik der Straßenmärkte, an das Chaos ihrer auf- und übereinander gestapelten Waren, die zum Teil ganz legal, zum Teil aber auch weniger legal erworben wurden. Waren, deren Reise zu ihrem aktuellen Aufenthaltsort nicht in offener und aufrichtiger Weise erzählt werden kann. In England spricht man in so einem Fall euphemistisch davon, dass „sie vom Lastwagen gefallen sind“, um in eleganter Weise ihre Quasi-Legalität zu bezeichnen. Aber wo sind sie heruntergefallen, wer hat ihnen den nötigen Stoß gegeben, und wer hat sie aufgelesen? Was den Begriff des „Schmuggelns“ so komplex macht, ist, dass der gesamte Bezug zu einem Ursprung erodiert ist. Und die Vorstellung einer Reise liegt nicht der Logik einer Reise, auf der Hindernisse, Grenzen, Wasserflächen überwunden werden, sondern man schleicht an diesen Grenzen entlang und wartet den günstigsten -Augenblick ab und die passende Lücke, um von einer zur anderen Seite zu wechseln.
Auf einem Straßenmarkt liegen alle Waren nebeneinander. Während ihre Herkunft im Dunkeln bleibt – nur manchmal ahnt man, woher sie kommen –, liegen sie in einem großen Haufen und bilden untereinander neue Beziehungen aus. Was auf diesen Markt auf der Ladefläche aus Afghanistan kam, aus der Tiefe eines Koffers aus Bangladesch oder im Leib eines menschlichen Lastesels aus Kolumbien, tritt dort ein in eine neue Relation zueinander, die sich in national verorteten Kulturen oder den üblichen Warenströmen nie hätte ausbilden können. Als ich vor kurzem mit den Distributionsstrukturen der aktivistischen Publikation „Make World“ bekannt gemacht wurde, erkannte ich, dass ihre globale Verbreitung in den Koffern und Rucksäcken der Menschen, welche die Werte und Ziele dieser Bewegung teilen, der Logik und der außergewöhnlichen Effektivität des Schmuggelns folgt. In dem Maße, wie die Verbreitung von Schmuggelware herkömmliche Wertesysteme unterminiert, macht sie auch eine Vertrautheit mit dem Gesetz erforderlich. Man muss sich fragen, wie Schmuggelware im gesetzlichen System verankert ist und welche Fluchtmöglichkeiten es für sie gibt? Ja, im weiterem Sinne müssen wir uns auch die Frage stellen, ob das Gesetz nicht per definitionem mit dem Schmuggeln verbunden ist?.
In den vergangenen Jahren haben wir oft darüber -gesprochen, keine konflikthaften und binären Enga-gements mehr eingehen zu wollen. Wir wollten zum Beispiel keinen Streit mit der Kunstakademie im Namen einer progressiven oder revolutionären Praxis. Wir wollten auch keinen Streit mit dem Museum an-fangen über eine größere Zugänglichkeit und Öffnung (nicht zuletzt deshalb nicht, weil wir dem Populismus nicht das Wort reden möchten). Und wir wollten keine Zeit und Energie mit Kämpfen verschwenden, in denen gegeneinander steht, was „innerhalb“ einer Kunstinstitution sanktioniert ist und was ganz natürlich „außerhalb“ von ihr im öffentlichen Raum stattfindet. Wir haben uns stattdessen für eine Strategie des „Wegschauens“ (looking away)⁴ oder „Beiseiteschauens“ (looking aside) entschieden und für eine räumliche Appropriation, die uns erlaubt, mit dem fortzufahren, was wir tun oder denken müssen, ohne uns dem Zwang auszusetzen, ständig zu artikulieren, wogegen wir sind.
Theoretisch gesehen, sind wir vom Kritizismus über die Kritik zur Kritikalität vorgestoßen. Aktuell besetzen wir eine Position, in der wir tief verwurzelt und zugleich kritisch bewusst sind. Das „Schmuggeln“ vollzieht sich genau so, in illegitimem Bezug zu einem wichtigen Ereignis oder zur herrschenden Ökonomie, ohne den direkten Konflikt zu suchen und ohne direkte Kritik. In genau dieser Weise, durch eine solche Praxis, wird zweitklassiges Material plötzlich brisant. Stoffe wie die Telenovelas oder die Bollywood-Filme, die fern ihrer eigentlichen Kultur gezeigt werden, wo sie Iden-tifikationsmöglichkeiten und etwas Trost für die Verarmten dieser Welt oder über den Erdball Verstreuten bereit halten. Plötzlich stellen sie die großen Fragen. Fragen der Immigration, der Durchmischung von Kul-turen und danach,, wie eine Kultur eine andere infiltriert. In einigen Installationen von Mike Nelson, in seiner langen Passage, die er in raumähnlichen Environments aufstellt, entdecken wir unscheinbare Spuren des täglichen Lebens von Migranten in Megalopolen: ein Wandkalender aus der fernen Heimat, ein Gebetsteppich, ein Reiseutensil, eine Geldüberweisung oder ein Internetkontakt. Hinweise auf ein Taxiunternehmen oder auf andere Jobs, die eher für Migranten zugänglich sind und die sie so dringend benötigen. Spätestens da erkennen wir, dass es solche Spuren überall gibt. Dass unsere städtische Umwelt an jedem Tag voll von ihnen ist. Dass auch diejenigen, die nicht erst kürzlich als Migranten ins Land gekommen sind, die Zeichen der Entwurzelung erleben und lesen können. Gerade so gut, wie sie mit den ererbten Zeichenkodes ihrer Herkunft vertraut sind. Auch das ist ein Akt des Schmuggelns: eine gelebte, verkörperte Kritikalität, die sich außerhalb objektivierter Repräsentationsstrukturen vollzieht.
Hier spricht Melek Ulagay, eine der Heldinnen aus Kutlug Atamans Videoinstallation „Women Who Wear Wigs“ (1999). Sie beschreibt die Zeit, als sie auf der Flucht vor der türkischen Polizei war. Die Polizei dachte, sie sei eine flüchtige Terroristin und nicht eine linke Sympathisantin und Kurierin, was sie in Wahrheit war. Ihre Flucht dauerte viele Jahre, und sie beschreibt sie gedankenvoll und selbstironisch. Auf der Flucht nutzte sie viele Verkleidungen und Tarnungen, die jedoch niemanden wirklich hinters Licht zu führen schienen:

Ich bin sehr überzeugt davon, wie eine Bäuerin auszusehen, aber ich glaube nicht, dass ich die Dorfbewohner täuschen kann. Später gingen wir dann nach Antep. Wir verstecken uns im Hause eines Schmugglers. Er betreibt die Schmuggelei zwischen der Türkei und Syrien. Wir gingen also zu seinem Haus. Ein Haus im Armenierviertel von Antep. Ein Haus mit einem Hof. Eigentlich handelte es sich dabei um den Annex einer alten Kirche; daher waren alle Wände mit Kreuzen bedeckt. Egal, nun sind wir also hier und trinken alle eine Tasse Kaffee. Der Schmuggler fragt: „Wie geht es euch?“, und er heißt jeden von uns einzeln willkommen, wie das in der Gegend hier Brauch ist. Dann schaut er mich an und sagt: „Schwester, du hast Dich verkleidet, nicht wahr?“ Ich bin schockiert. Ich meine, als Schmuggler könnte er mein Aussehen nicht besser erkannt und in Worte gefasst haben. Es war eine nette Art zu sagen: „Du bist keine Bäuerin.“ Was ich eigentlich sagen will, ist, wie sehr man sich auch anstrengt, wie jemand anderer auszusehen, die Menschen entdecken am Ende immer die wirkliche Person, die sich hinter der Maske verbirgt.

Was Melek Ulagays unglückliche Abenteurerinnen in die öffentliche Sphäre schmuggeln, sind keine Waren, subversiven Praktiken oder Ideologien, sondern Empathie, Identifikation und Verständnis für das große politische Potenzial, das sich hinter den kleinen Gesten einer ganz alltäglichen Höflichkeit verbirgt. Höfliche Schmuggler, mitempfindende Prostituierte, faszinierte Studenten, verständnisvolle Bauern sind die Protagonisten ihrer Erzählung. Sie werden Teil der Politik in einer Türkei im Umbruch, ohne dass sie auch nur einen einzigen politischen Standpunkt vertreten.
Denkt man sich das „Schmuggeln“ räumlich, so ist es reich an Möglichkeiten. Es hilft uns, aus unserem binären Denken auszubrechen, das zum Beispiel das Innere des musealen Raumes gegen das Äußere des öffentlichen Raumes stellt. Und auch im Lichte der angeblichen Heimlichtuerei des Schmuggelns steht es doch für einen Status von „Entgrenztheit“. In der Zusammenarbeit mit „Research Architecture“ planen wir ein Projekt, mit dem der Raum als Behältnis gestaltet wird. Ein Raum, der an Waren befördernde Container erinnert und der sich zugleich zur Welt hin öffnet. Wir wollen der Ausstellung einen dualen Rahmen geben, mit der partiellen Visibilität, die den Charakter des Schmuggelguts ausmacht, ob es sich dabei nun um Waren, Menschen, Ideen oder Konzepte handelt.
Das Schmuggeln bringt Subjekte, Objekte und Praktiken hervor, die in einem Reich des „Nicht-Taxierbaren“ existieren. Und damit meine ich viel mehr als nur, was dabei der offiziellen Besteuerung entgeht. Das „Nicht-Taxierbare“ ist eine Methode, bestehende Kategorien zu unterlaufen, so dass es ganz unmöglich wird, mit ihnen zu arbeiten. Es handelt sich hier nicht um Widerstand, sondern um verkörperte Kritikalität, die sich ihrem Gegenstand anverwandelt. In der Matrix von Brüchen und inneren Inkohärenzen bedeutet das „Nicht-Taxierbare“ des Schmuggelns, für sich die Kategorie der Verweigerung zu behaupten.
Ich hoffe, es ist mir gelungen, verständlich zu machen, inwieweit „das Kuratorische“ als eine Art des Schmuggelns operieren kann. Wie dabei Thema und Ausführung zur Allianz finden. Wie beide sich miteinander wie im Tanz verbinden, wobei ihre Kleider sich leicht berühren, ohne dass diese Allianz je illustrativ, hermetisch und statisch würde. Das Schmuggeln kann uns die Möglichkeit bieten, zu einer Theorie „partiellen Wissens“ und „partieller Wahrnehmung“ zu kommen, nach der wir schon so lange Ausschau gehalten haben.

(Übersetzt von Michael Stoeber)

Wiederabdruck
Dieser Text erschien zuerst in: Silke Boerma, Kunstverein Hannover (Hg.), Mise en Scène. Innenansichten aus dem Kunstbetrieb. Hannover 2007, S. 34–44.

1.) Simon Harvey, „Smuggling – In Theory and In Practise“, Dissertation, Universität London 2004.
2.) Ergin Cavusoglu, „Downward Straits“, 2004, 4-Kanal-Videoinstallation, Ton, Video, ca. 3 Minuten, Audio 13,25 Minuten, Loop.
3.) Lawrence Liang, „Porous Legalities and Avenues of Participation”, in: Sarai Reader 2005, Bare Acts, Delhi 2005, S. 6–17,
4.) Anm. der Red.: Siehe Irit Rogoffs Veröffentlichungen „Looking Away – Participations in Visual Curture“, in: Gavin Butt (Hg.), Art After Criticism, Blackwell, Oxford 2004 und „Wegschauen – Partizipation in der visuellen Kultur“, Texte zur Kunst, 36, 1999, S. 98ff.

Queering (next) Art Education: Kunst/Pädagogik zur Verschiebung dominanter Zugehörigkeitsordnungen

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:51 +0000

Wir möchten als nächstes (und das schon sehr bald, also eigentlich fast jetzt) eine „Queere Kunst Pädagogik“ vorschlagen. Sie verknüpft künstlerische und pädagogische Verfahren, die eine anti-rassistische und anti-sexistische Agenda teilen.
Sie nennt sich „queer“ und nicht (nur) „kritisch“, weil sie Wert darauf legt, Affekte, Begehren, Verletzlichkeit, Uneindeutigkeit und Widersprüche bei der Entwicklung und Realisierung ihres emanzipatorischen künstlerischen und pädagogischen Anliegens nicht nur -mitzudenken, sondern zentral zu setzen. (Auf)Lösungsorientierung oder auch Zugehörigkeits-, Solidaritäts- und Lebensorientierung könnten affektive Artikulationsformen und Handlungsfähigkeit erzeugen. Queering Art Education meint, die Spannung zu halten zwischen einem Autonomieanspruch im Sinne einer kritischen Unverdaulichkeit, Ungesteuertheit und Unplanbarkeit einerseits und pädagogischer Operationalisierbarkeit respektive der Schönheit des Schritt-für-Schritts und Vor-und-Zurücks und Hin-und-Hers von Lernprozessen andererseits.
Es handelt sich um die hoffentlich produktive Quadratur des Kreises. Um ein paradoxes Vorhaben, dessen Durchführung zumindest einen Teil der Zeit Freude macht. Weil sie zwingend und sinnvoll erscheint. Weil es ernst ist. Weil Humor und Maskerade darin eine tragende Rolle spielen.
Queering Art Education stellt einen Versuch dar, verschiedene soziale Fragen aus minorisierten Perspektiven zu betrachten und mit künstlerisch-edukativen Mitteln zu bearbeiten. Kunst/Pädagogik erscheint uns dafür prädestiniert zu sein: Sie verortet sich im visuellen Feld; sie beschäftigt sich mit Symbolisierungen und der Arbeit an Repräsentationen¹. Es geht uns bei Queering Art Education entsprechend um die edukative Anwendung von Kunst, die sich mit der Verschiebung dominanter Zugehörigkeitsordnungen² beschäftigt. Außerdem siedelt sie immer schon in einem Dazwischen, im Sowohl-als-Auch. Versuche, sie binär-oppositionell zu strukturieren und entweder der Pädagogik oder der Kunst als dominanter Leitdisziplin zuzuschlagen, erweisen sich seit vielen Jahren als Zeitverschwendung.
Queering Art Education kann sich verschiedenen Adressat_innen und Bildungskontexten anbieten: Sie kann zum Beispiel als Teil des schulischen Kunstunterrichts, der Fortbildung von Pädagog_innen und Künstler_innen, der künstlerischen Bildung an Hochschulen und der kulturellen Bildung außerhalb der Schule gedacht werden. Je nach Kontext nähme sie unterschiedliche Sprachregister und Ästhetiken an. Grundsätzlich ist sie gleichzeitig denkbar als Stärkung und Ermächtigung devianter -Subjektpositionen und als Sensibilisierung und produktive Verunsicherung von mehrheitsangehörigen Posi-tionen, die sich jeweils in Individuen und Kollektiven überkreuzen. Sie könnte sowohl auf künstlerisches und päda-gogisches Wissen und Können als auch auf poli-tisches Bewusstsein (wie z. B. herrschaftskritische Analysefähigkeit) oder auf psychische Dispositionen bei Lehrenden und Lernenden Einfluss haben. Diese Einflussmöglichkeiten verstehen wir als Potentialitäten und nicht als zur Legitimierung von Queering Art Education zwingend notwendigen Erwartungshorizont. Queering Art Education ist – je nachdem – vielleicht auch gerade dann besonders gut, wenn sie nichts bewirken will.
Queering Art Education ist eine Intervention in mindestens zwei im deutschsprachigen Raum dominante und, so unsere Vermutung, interdependente Diskurse: Zum einen in den Optimierungsdiskurs der Kulturellen Bildung, welcher als vornehmliches Bildungsziel die selbstmotivierte, individuelle und wettbewerbsorientierte Anpassungsfähigkeit von Subjekten im Rahmen einer kapitalistischen, weißen, heteronormativen Ordnung setzt und diesem Bildungsziel auch Aspekte wie „Kritikfähigkeit“, „Reflexionsvermögen“, „Kreativität“ oder „Ich-Stärke“ als Teilziele subordiniert.³ Die Vereinnahmung von ursprünglich emanzipatorisch gemeinten Vokabeln geht soweit, dass „Ideologie“ beispielsweise mit Vorliebe herrschaftskritischen Perspektiven vorgeworfen wird⁴. Zum anderen interveniert Queering Art Education in den Autonomiediskurs der Kunst, der künstlerische Verfahren und Haltungen grundsätzlich als nicht lernbar/vermittelbar postuliert und sich selbst die pädagogische Arbeit als das abgewertete „Andere“ entgegensetzt, das sie verschmutzt respektive korrumpiert, simplifiziert, sie ihrer Eigen- und Widerständigkeit beraubt.
Für Queering Art Education ließe sich demgegenüber Unabhängigkeit behaupten, solange sie weder gemäß der Regeln und Maßstäbe des Kunstsystems noch des Erziehungswesens agiert, sondern sich stattdessen beide für eigene Zwecke einverleibt.
Vorläufig wollen wir beim Queering von Kunst/Pädagogik folgende Aufgabenfelder berücksichtigen:
Da queere Anliegen in der Bildung in den letzten -Jahren verstärkt von Politiker_innen aufgegriffen und vertreten werden, werden sie in die Öffentlichkeit kommuniziert, werden also Teil des Regiert-Werdens und treffen – wie zum Beispiel anlässlich einer Passage im Entwurf eines neuen Bildungsplans Anfang 2014 in Baden-Württemberg – auf mitunter gewaltvolle Ablehnung. Grundlegend bedarf es also weiterhin des Protests und der Aufklärung. Analyse, Begriffsarbeit und Ideologiekritik sind notwendig, um intersektionale Macht- und Gewaltverhältnisse beschreibbar und mehrheitlich un-beachtete Perspektiven wahrnehmbar zu machen.
Informations- und Unterrichtsmaterialien oder Fortbildungen⁵ können die Handlungsoptionen der für Lernsituationen verantwortlichen Akteur_innen vervielfältigen.
Daneben wird Empowerment, werden Identifikationsangebote für minorisierte Schüler_innen, Studierende, Lehrer_innen, Kunstvermittler_innen, Angehörige und Freund_innen benötigt.
In den folgenden künstlerischen Positionen sehen wir unterschiedliche Modelle, die mit Blick auf die genannten Notwendigkeiten eine Bildungsfunktion erfüllen könnten.
Der amerikanisch-haitianische Künstler Jean-Ulrick Désert eignet sich in multimedialen Arbeiten nationale bis volkstümliche Objekte (z. B. Flaggen, Bierdeckel, Lederhose) oder künstlerische Motive und Techniken an und setzt sie einer radikal queerenden Umarbeitung aus.⁶ Häufig findet ein Austausch von Markierungen von Whiteness oder Blackness statt. Beispielsweise wenn er Robert Mapplethorpes umstrittene Schwarz-Weiß-Fotografie eines Schwarzen Modells Man in a Polyester Suit (1980) in Farbe und mit einem weißen Mann in Lederhose nachfotografiert, wobei die Lederhose mit rot-schwarz-grünen Applikationen versehen ist, die auf die Black-Power-Bewegung verweisen. Kritische Gegeninformation, Schilderungen eigenen Begehrens und mehr treffen zusammen.
Eine groß angelegte Recherche von Carlos Motta, die sich als Website, Buch und in Form von Rauminstallationen oder Veranstaltungen materialisiert, besteht aus 50 in Kolumbien, Norwegen, Südkorea und der USA geführten Interviews. Unter dem Titel We Who Feel Differently⁷ (seit 2009) wird Wissen über die Geschichte und Entwicklung von LGBTIQQ⁸-Aktivismus (das zweite Q steht für „Questioning“) generiert. Aus den Aussagen der Interviewpartner_innen ergaben sich fünf virulente Themen, die eine radikale und zugleich differenzierte, zum Teil im beschriebenen Austausch heraus-gebildete, politische Stellungnahme des Künstlers darstellen. Mit dem Einsatz des Regenbogenspektrums als zentrales Gestaltungselement bezieht sich Motta auf ein klassisches Symbol der Schwulenbewegung und lädt dieses beispielsweise durch die gleichzeitige Formulierung einer konsequenten Ablehnung der „Homoehe“ neu auf.
In The Alphabet of Feeling Bad⁹ (2012) von Karin Michalski sitzt die queer-feministische Theoretikerin Ann Cvetkovich auf einem zerwühlten Bett und trägt mit Blick in die Kamera eine alphabetische Reihe negativer Affekte vor. Dabei wirkt sie jedoch nicht verzweifelt, sondern nachdenklich und gelassen; schon die Inszenierung ihres Berichtes für ein_e virtuelle Zuhörer_in bewirkt, dass bedrückende Erfahrungen geteilt werden und somit die von ihr angestrebte Solidarisierung und Politisierung auf der Basis von ähnlich minorisierten Lebensumständen in Gang bringen können.
Sokee, selbsterklärte Quing of Berlin, rappt gegen Diskriminierung von Frauen und Queers, auch in der linken Szene, in der sie sich selbst engagiert. Sie nutzt Rap-Songs und -Workshops als Mittel, um sich politisch-poetisch zu artikulieren.¹⁰ Alltäglich „Unerhörtes“ (über Antisexismus, Homophobie, lesbische Lust) wird von ihr hörbar gemacht. Ebenso leidenschaftlich reimt sie unbequeme Fragen an das Bildungssystem.
My gender workbook¹¹ (1998) von Kate Bornstein bietet Selbsthilfe an. Mithilfe eines stilistischen Hackings von Mitmachbüchern wird geschlechtliche Varianz auch auf Heteros bezogen und von ihnen gefordert; Kreuzworträtsel führen die monotone Vorherrschaft des binären Geschlechtersystems vor. Im Vorteil beim Beantworten von Fragen und Rätseln sind hier die, die sonst in Frage gestellt werden.¹²Einen Ort konstruktiver Veruneindeutigung stellte auch das Labor Dr. ____ Trans*_Homo¹³ (2012) von Ins A Kromminga und Jannik Franzen dar, in dem sexualwissenschaftliche Theorien über Trans- und Intergeschlechtlichkeit auf die Spitze getrieben wurden. Eine Einwegscheibe trennte den begehbaren Untersuchungsraum, in dem pseudomedizinische Werke und eine absurde Bewegungsstudie mit der Performerin Coco Lorès zu sehen waren, vom Rest der Ausstellung. Kunstrezipient_innen wurden automatisch zum Teil der Installation und verwandelten sich quasi in Meerschweinchen, in die Metapher für Objekte naturwissenschaftlicher Experimente also, die als Muster auf einer liebevoll gestalteten Tapete den Raum umgaben.
Solche Beispiele künstlerisch-aktivistischer Übertreibung und selbstermächtigender Ironisierung können im Rahmen von Queering Art Education helfen, strikte Zugehörigkeitsordnungen in Schwingung zu versetzen, darin lustvoll Risse zu erzeugen und die glasklare Schicht von Normativität mit einem lauten Lachen zum Zerspringen zu bringen. Da es sich hier um fundamentale „[rassistische] Ordnungen [handelt], die biographisch früh strukturierend auf Erfahrungen, Verständnisweisen und Praxisformen wirken“¹⁴, sind über das Lachen -hinaus widerständige Fantasien und wirksame Gegenmaßnahmen im Bereich emanzipatorischer Bildungsarbeit gefragt.
Wir fangen dann schon mal an und freuen uns auf die Entstehung einer künstlerisch-edukativen Praxis, die auf die Existenz einer queer-feministischen Kunst/Pädagogik/Geschichte nicht aufhören mag, sich explizit zu beziehen. Sowie auf ein schönes Stück Theoriebildung und gute Rezepte für die Praxis einer noch zu bestimmenden „Queering Art Education“. Auf die Andere zurückgreifen können, um damit zu arbeiten und sie weiter zu entwickeln, so wie vormals und weiterhin bei der „künstlerischen Kunstvermittlung“. Alles sehr aufregend.

1.) Stuart Hall, „The Work of Representation“, in: Ders. (Hg.), Representation: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices. London 1997, S. 1–74.
2.) Paul Mecheril et al., Migrationspädagogik. Weinheim 2010.
3.) Siehe dafür exemplarisch: UNESCO Roadmap for Art Education. Lissabon 2005 und Seoul 2010.
4.) Vgl. u. a. Regina Frey, Marc Gärtner, Manfred Köhnen, Sebastian Scheele, hg. v. Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung, Gender, Wissenschaftlichkeit und Ideologie. Argumente im Streit um Geschlechterverhältnisse, Berlin 2013; Anne Broden, Paul Mecheril (Hg.), Rassismus bildet. Bildungswissenschaftliche Beiträge zu Normalisierung und Subjektivierung in der Migrationsgesellschaft. Bielefeld 2010.
5.) Hier einige Ergebnisse unserer Materialrecherche (Schwerpunkt auf dem deutschsprachigen Raum). Über Hinweise auf weitere Beispiele an -queeringarteducation@email.de freuen wir uns:
Roz Mortimer, „Gender Trouble“ (2003), ein experimenteller Dokumentar- und Schulungsfilm über die komplexen Themen, die über die physiologischen Bedingungen von Intersexualität hinausgehen. www.wonder-dog.co.uk/films/gender-trouble.Imke Schmidt, Ka Schmitz, „Ich sehe was, was du nicht siehst, oder: Wer sieht hier wen?“, ein Comic im Rahmen der Arbeit des GenderKompetenzZentrum, http://gender-queer.de/projekte/comic.html.Anna Schürch, Nora Landkammer, „Raufbrechen – ein Kommentar zum Thema Repräsentationskritik“, Institute for Art Education, Zürcher Hochschule der Künste, http://iae-raufbrechen.zhdk.ch/reprasentation/Bernadett Settele, „QUEER UND DIY IM KUNSTUNTERRICHT“, Art Education Research °3. eJournal des Institute for Art Education der Zürcher Hochschule der Künste, hg. v. Carmen Mörsch, http://iae-journal.zhdk.ch/no-3 [27.9.2014].Elke Zobl et al., „grassroots feminism. Transnational archives, resources and communities, www.grassrootsfeminism.net/cms/node/760; eine sehr umfassende Ressource zu Zines und related activities weltweit.Zur Zeit entstehen didaktische Materialien für Zines Workshops, für die Mädchen- und Jugendarbeit sowie für die Multiplikator_innenfortbildung und die Erwachsenenbildung. Das Material wird zum Februar 2015 veröffentlicht. Fortbildungen/Workshops:
Jessica Aman, Kunst und Queer Empowerment (3.–8.6.2013), Fortbildung bei TRIQ e.V. Berlin, www.transinterqueer.org/aktuell/queer-empowerment-by-art
Büro trafo.k, flic flac. Feministische, transdisziplinäre Workshops für die Berufsschule, www.trafo-k.at/projekte/flicflac-workshops.Emma Haugh, READING TROUPE, www.emmahaugh.com [27.9.2014]; workshops, seit 2013Josch Hoenes, Nanna Lüth, „‚Queering the Wild Sky‘, auf der Suche nach queeren Lesarten der Ausstellung ‚Wild Sky‘“ (27.5.–14.8. 2011), Edith-Russ-Haus für Medienkunst, Oldenburg, www.edith-russ-haus.de/kunstvermittlung/kunstvermittlung/archiv.html.Evan Ifekoya, Raju Rage, „(E)merging identity and creative practice“, Talk & Workshop im Rahmen der Ausstellung „What is Queer Today is Not Queer Tomorrow“, nGbK Berlin (13.6.–10.8.14), www.heidyngbk.blogspot.de.Nanna Lüth, „Papa, ich bin schwul / Deutschland braucht mehr Ausländer“, Rundgang/Workshop/Aktion zur 7. Internationalen Foto-Triennale Esslingen (2007), www.nannalueth.de/papaichbinschwul-doku.html,
Ulrich Schötker, Michael Wilhelm, „Schmutzig und Stinkend“, Workshops für Kinder und Jugendliche im Rahmen des Programms aushecken der documenta 12 Kunstvermittlung (2007), www.documenta11.de/index.php?id=1152.
Wiebke Trunk, Reet Varblane, „The Personal is Political. Hannah Höch and the interpretation of her art“, Workshop zur Ausstellung in der Kunstihoone in Tallinn, Estland, September 2010, www.wiebketrunk.de/kunstvermittlung_workshops.htm Außerdem finden auf Trans- und Inter*tagungen oder LaD.I.Y.-Festen regelmäßig verschiedene Workshops für Tanz, Chorsingen, Zine- oder Comicproduktion statt.
6.) Vgl. www.jeanulrickdesert.com/content/die-hosen-runter-lassen [4.1.2014], verfügbar auch via QR-Code am Ende des Textes.
7.) Vgl. www.wewhofeeldifferently.info [4.1.2014]
8.) Abkürzung für „Lesbian-Gay-Bi-Trans*-Inter*-Queer-Questioning“
9.) Vgl. www.karinmichalski.de [4.1.2014], verfügbar via QR-Code.
10.) Vgl. www.sookee.de/material/sehen [4.1.2014], verfügbar via QR-Code.
11.) Vgl. http://katebornstein.typepad.com [4.1.2014], verfügbar via QR-Code.
12.) Vgl. Judith Butler, Undoing Gender. London 2004.
13.) Vgl. www.abject.de/portfolio/labor-dr-____-trans_homo [4.1.2014], verfügbar via QR-Code.
14.) Broden/Mecheril 2010, a. a. O., S. 17.

Part I: Setting the Stage

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:51 +0000

In his memoir Hand to Mouth: A Chronicle of Early Failure,¹ the American postmodern novelist Paul Auster clarifies his understanding of failure by stating that, in his late twenties and early thirties, he went through a period of several years when everything he touched turned to failure. As Colin MacCabe noted at a conference titled “The Value of Failure,” in June 2005,² “Success has become one of the key terms by which people evaluate their own and others’ lives.” When MacCabe refers to failure, he posits it as a crucial component of both the development of knowledge in science and creative experimentation in the arts. He ends by asking to which degree contemporary society demands success and what happens when, in contemporary Britain (and indeed Europe), both public and private funding for projects in the cultural and educational sectors become increasingly success oriented.
Imagine one was to see the world through a pair of technocratic goggles of failure analysis. Backed up by the comforting environments of Structuralist certainty, this is actually pretty simple. One would start an analysis by determining both the mechanism and the root cause of failure in order to implement a corrective action. One can therefore proportionally raise the track record of “success” over time.
We always think of success as being good because it has become linked to prosperity. In MacCabe’s words, “Success dominates because of its part in the global evaluation of the good life in terms of money.” Hence, failure has become the unthinkable, the semantic confirmation of poverty. Looking at the current production of space, and indeed the art world, one contentedly realizes that creative production and failure come along as an inseparable couple. This, of course, may be true of almost any industry or economy, but it seems that, at least in current cultural discourse, the value of failure is being put forward as an alternative idea to success. Within such a regime of production, one might argue that the realization of “failure as the fundamental condition of surprise” is nothing new, but an interesting one to build upon. Today, the primary issue that needs to be stressed is the fact that we have moved away, at least in creative production, from the reference model of the final product; fortunately, such a notion is often replaced by cultural laboratories in which the proto-product – in other words, the process towards X – and its failure is valued as knowledge production, and embodies precisely the laboratory for experimentation that provides challenging work. If one were to understand experimentation as a vital ingredient that contributes to the cultural gravitas of spatial production, one has to coercively admit to the value of failure. Hence, the societal norm of success as the only way forward needs to be reviewed.
Thinking about failure and conflict from the point of view of process, the most infertile situation that can occur is to let the fear of failure can lead to inaction. It is the act of production that allows us to revise, tweak, rethink, and change. Along the lines of reinventing oneself, it also opens a space of uncertainty that often produces knowledge and content by surprise. If one’s priority is to resist failure at all costs, the potential of surprise is never played out. This is why the results of certain investigations and inventions in many fields and disciplines have become predictable, and the outcome of a vast majority of creative and artistic output is both conventional and mediocre. To take a risk means to be incapable of preempting the outcome of an investigation. By consciously allowing processing to fail, one will open up the window of surprise, the moment where conflictual involvement and non-loyal participation produce new knowledge and political politics.
In Representations of the Intellectual, Edward Said introduces the public role of the intellectual as outsider, as an amateur and disturber of the status quo. In his view, one task of the intellectual is the effort to break down stereotypes as well as the reductive categories that limit human thought and communication.³ Said speaks about intellectuals as figures whose public performance can neither be predicted nor reduced into a fixed dogma or party line. He clearly distinguishes between the notion of the intellectual and that of the insider: “Insiders promote special interests, but intellectuals should be the ones to question patriotic nationalism, corporate thinking, and a sense of class, racial or gender privilege.”⁴ For Said, an ideal intellectual works as an exile and marginal, as an amateur, and as the author of a language that tries to speak the truth to power, rather than an expert who provides objective advice for pay. This disinterested notion of what one could call the “uninvited outsider” is, in the context of this book, the most relevant of Said’s writings. It puts forward the claim that universality always comes hand in hand with taking a risk. There are no rules. There are “no gods to be worshipped and looked to for unwavering guidance.”⁵ By questioning the default mode of operation, which is clearly that of the specialist, the insider, the one with an interested agenda, he writes of intellectuals as those who always speak to an audience, and by doing so, represent themselves to themselves. This mode of practice is based on the idea that one operates according to an idea that one has of one’s practice, which brings with it the intellectual duty for independence from external pressures. In underlining the role of the outsider, Said exposes the need to – at times – belong to a set and network of social authorities in order to directly effect change. This spirit of productive and targeted opposition, rather than accommodation, is the driving force for such a practice. To understand when to be part of something and when to be outside of it; to strategically align in order to make crucial decisions, which will otherwise be made by others (most likely with a less ethically developed horizon).
Said, however, also illustrates that the role of the outsider is a lonely condition, and that it involves what Foucault calls “a relentless erudition”: “There is something fundamentally unsettling about intellectuals who have neither offices to protect nor territory to consolidate and guard.”⁶ The uninvited outsider is someone who has a background within a particular (taught) discipline, but ventures out of his or her milieu and immediate professional context, using a set of soft skills required elsewhere, and then applying them to found situations and problematics. According to Said, this person (also as an individual) has a specific public role in society that cannot be reduced to a faceless professional; it is precisely the fact that one is operating without one’s own professional boundaries that one can start to articulate concerns, views, and attitudes that go beyond the benefit of the individual or particular. On the one hand, it feels that there is a benefit in professional boundaries, expertise, and specific knowledge. On the other hand, one could argue that specific sets of parasitic knowledge can most generatively, surprisingly, and productively apply to situations precisely when they are not based on disinterested principles. This is something that can particularly emerge when driven by “symbolic personages marked by their unyielding distance to practical concerns,”⁷ driven by a consciousness that is skeptical and engaged, and devoted to moral judgment: “The independent artist and intellectual are among the few remaining personalities equipped to resist and to fight the stereotyping and consequent death of genuinely living things. Fresh perception now involves the capacity to continually unmask and to smash the stereotypes of vision and intellect with which modern communications swamp us.”⁸ The intellectual should be neither understood as a mediator nor a consensus-builder, but “someone whose being is staked on a critical sense, a sense of being unwilling to accept easy formulas, or ready-made clichés, or the smooth, ever-so-accommodating confirmations of what the powerful or conventional have to say, and what they do. Not just passively unwillingly, but actively willing to say so in public.”⁹In this context, it is necessary to raise a basic but crucial question: What language does one speak and whom is one addressing? From which position does one talk? There is no truth, only specific situations. There are responses to situations. One’s talk or reaction should be modeled from these situations. Therefore, it is also a question of scale. It may be the case that a specific situation might lead to potential readings of larger bodies and relationships. Once the specifics are dealt with, one usually easily understands its larger ramifications. In terms of communicating one’s message, it is essential to break away from one’s milieu – otherwise, one willingly reduces his or her audience to that of the already existing, most often disciplinary crowd of one’s background: to produce new publics and audiences that would not convene without one’s practice. In the context of the uninvited outsider, exile can also be understood as a metaphorical condition, such as exile in other fields of expertise. Or as the saying goes: One cannot be a prophet in one’s own country. This also relates to one’s professional background.
Such exile can be understood as a nomadic practice, not one that is necessarily driven by territorial shifts, but one that sets a course that is never fully adjusted, “always feeling outside the chatty, familiar world inhabited by natives.”¹⁰ According to Said, exile – as dissatisfaction – can become not only a style of thought, but also a new, if temporary, habitation. Said further makes a claim for a kind of amateurism, an “activity that is fueled by care and affection rather than by profit and selfish, narrow specialization.”¹¹ As a result, today’s intellectual ought to be an amateur, “someone who considers that to be a thinking and concerned member of a society one is entitled to raise moral issues at the heart of even the most technical and professionalized activity.”¹² Instead of simply doing what one is supposed to do, one can inquire about reasons and protocols. Practitioners in exile are individuals who represent not the consensus of the foreign practice, but doubts about it on rational, moral, and political grounds. Questioning long-established agreements and consent, these outsiders can represent and work toward a cause, which might otherwise be difficult for those entangled in the force fields, power relations, and political relations of the context that the pariah enters. What is important to realize here is that Said deliberately emphasizes the need to be in some form of contact and relationship with the audience in order to affect change: “The issue is whether that audience is there to be satisfied, and hence a client to be kept happy, or whether it is there to be challenged, and hence stirred into outright opposition or mobilized into greater democratic participation in the society. But in either case, there is no getting around the intellectual’s relationship to them.”¹³What is at stake here is not an activation of dilettantism as the cultivation of quasi-expertise, but rather a notion of the outsider as an instrumentalized means of breaking out of the tautological box of professional practice. The outsider is not necessarily a polymath or generalist – the Renaissance image and description of the architect¹⁴ – but someone who can use a general sense of abstraction in order for his or her knowledge to fuel an alternative and necessary debate, and to decouple existing and deadlocked relationships and practices in a foreign context. In order to become active and productive as an instigator and initiator in the choreography of strategic conflicts, one can appropriate the strength and potential of weak ties. Such an understanding of surplus value through otherness is essentially antithetic to the notion of Gnostic knowledge; that is to say, the idea that the specialist is “good” and trustworthy, and that only specialist knowledge should be accepted in a specific and related environment or field of practice. It further entails that one accepts the status quo by not engaging with it if one is not an expert. The outsider does not -accept this. The venturing out of both the notion of expertise and discipline is crucial in order to remain sufficiently curious toward the specialized knowledges of others. Moreover, it is important that, once in exile, one builds up what architect Teddy Cruz calls a “critical proximity,”¹⁵ a space in which the role of the outsider is to tactically enter an institution or other construct in order to understand, shuffle, and mobilize its resources and organizational logic.
This then starts to translate into a discipline without profession, a discipline without a set of prescriptions or known knowledges, but a framework of criticality: a discipline from the outside, a parasitic and impartial form of consulting. Knowledge and the production of knowledge is not fueled by accumulation, but editing and -sampling. Or as Jorge Dávila argues about Foucault’s analytics of power: to cut is to start something new – knowledge itself is a cut, a moment of rupture, a moment of exception driven by the moment of decision.¹⁶ But like “participation,” “critique” itself can also become a form and force of normalization. Critique can be normalized and absorbed just as rebellion is being subsumed. For critical spatial practice to remain productive and unforeseen, one must avoid a situation in which criticality turns into yet another modality of commodification.

Wiederabdruck
Dieser Text ist eine abgeänderte Version von: Markus Miessen, „The Future Academy – An Institution in the Making“, in: Ders., The Nightmare of Participation, Berlin 2010, S. 203–218.

1.) Paul Auster, Hand to Mouth: A Chronicle of Early Failure. New York 1997.
2.) Conference at Tate Modern’s Starr Auditorium, June 2005.
3.) Edward Said, Representations of the Intellectual (The 1993 Reith Lectures). New York 1996, p. xi.
4.) Op. cit., xiii.
5.) Op. cit., xiv.
6.) Op. cit., xviii.
7.) Op. cit., p. 7.
8.) C. Wright Mills, Power, Politics, and People: The Collected Essays of C. Wright Mills, ed. Irving Louis Horowitz. New York 1963, p. 299.
9.) Edward Said, Representations of the Intellectual, op. cit., p. 23.
10.) Op. cit., p. 53.
11.) Op. cit., p. 82.
12.) Ibid.
13.) Op. cit., p. 83.
14.) See also Andrew Saint, The Image of the Architect. New Haven/London 1983.
15.) See also interview with Teddy Cruz by Sevin Yildiz, “With Teddy Cruz on ‘Power’ and ‘Powerlessness,’” on Archinect, http://archinect.com/features/article.php?id=93919_0_23_0_M
16.) See Jorge Dávila, “Foucault’s Interpretive Analytics of Power,” -Systemic Practice and Action Research, 6 (4), 1993.

Artistic Activism and Agonistic Spaces

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:51 +0000

Can artistic practices still play a critical role in a society where the difference between art and advertizing have become blurred and where artists and cultural workers have become a necessary part of capitalist production? Scrutinizing the “new spirit of capitalism” Luc Boltanski and Eve Chiapello¹ have shown how the demands for autonomy of the new movements of the 1960’s had been harnessed in the development of the post-Fordist networked economy and transformed in new forms of control. The aesthetic strategies of the counter-culture: the search for authenticity, the ideal of self-management, the anti-hierarchical exigency, are now used in order to promote the conditions required by the current mode of capitalist regulation, replacing the disciplinary framework characteristic of the Fordist period. Nowadays artistic and cultural production play a central role in the process of capital valorization and, through “neo-management”, artistic critique has become an important element of capitalist productivity.
This has led some people to claim that art had lost its critical power because any form of critique is automatically recuperated and neutralized by capitalism. Others, however, offer a different view and see the new situation as opening the way for different strategies of opposition. Such a view can be supported by insights from André Gorz for whom “When self-exploitation acquires a central role in the process of valorization, the production of subjectivity becomes a terrain of the central conflict … Social relations that elude the grasp of value, competitive individualism and market exchange make the latter appear by contrast in their political dimension, as extensions of the power of capital. A front of total resistance to this power is made possible. It necessarily overflows the terrain of production of knowledge towards new practices of living, consuming and collective appropriation of common spaces and everyday culture.”²To be sure the modernist idea of the avant-garde has to be abandoned, but that does not mean that any form of critique has become impossible. What is needed is widening the field of artistic intervention, by intervening directly in a multiplicity of social spaces in order to oppose the program of total social mobilization of capitalism. The objective should be to undermine the imaginary environment necessary for its reproduction. As Brian Holmes puts it, “Art can offer a chance for society to collectively reflect on the imaginary figures it depends upon for its very consistency, its self-understanding.”³I agree that artistic practices could contribute to the struggle against capitalist domination but this requires a proper understanding of the dynamics of democratic politics; an understanding which I contend can only be obtained by acknowledging the political in its antagonistic dimension as well as the contingent nature of any type of social order. It is only within such a perspective that one can grasp the hegemonic struggle which characterizes democratic politics, hegemonic struggle in which artistic practices can play a crucial role.

The political as antagonism
The point of departure of the theoretical reflections that I will propose in this piece is the difficulty that we currently have for envisaging the problems facing our societies in a political way. Contrary to what neo-liberal ideologists would like us to believe, political questions are not mere technical issues to be solved by experts. Properly political questions always involve decisions which require us to make a choice between conflicting alternatives. This incapacity to think politically, is to a great extent due to the uncontested hegemony of liberalism. “Liberalism”, in the way I use the term in the present context, refers to a philosophical discourse with many variants, united not by a common essence but by a multiplicity of what Wittgenstein calls “family resemblances”. There are to be sure many liberalisms, some more progressive than others but, save a few exceptions, the dominant tendency in liberal thought is characterized by a rationalist and individualist approach which is unable to grasp adequately the pluralistic nature of the social world, with the conflicts that pluralism entails; conflicts for which no rational solution could ever exist, hence the dimension of antagonism that characterizes human societies. The typical liberal understanding of pluralism is that we live in a world in which there are indeed many perspectives and values and that, due to empirical limitations, we will never be able to adopt them all, but that, when put together, they constitute an harmonious ensemble. This is why this type of liberalism must negate the political in its antagonistic dimension. Indeed, one of the main tenets of this liberalism is the rationalist belief in the availability of a universal consensus based on reason. No wonder that the political constitutes its blind spot. Liberalism has to negate antagonism since, by bringing to the fore the inescapable moment of decision – in the strong sense of having to decide in an undecidable terrain – antagonism reveals the very limit of any rational consensus.

Politics as Hegemony
Next to antagonism, the concept of hegemony is, in my approach, the other key notion for addressing the question of “the political”. To acknowledge the dimension of the political as the ever present possibility of antagonism requires coming to terms with the lack of a final ground and the undecidability which pervades every order. It requires in other words recognizing the hegemonic nature of every kind of social order and the fact that every society is the product of a series of practices attempting at establishing order in a context of contingency. The political is linked to the acts of hegemonic institution. It is in this sense that one has to differentiate the social from the political. The social is the realm of sedimented practices, that is, practices that conceal the originary acts of their contingent political institution and which are taken for granted, as if they were self-grounded. Sedimented social practices are a constitutive part of any possible society; not all social bonds are put into question at the same time. The social and the political have thus the status of what Heidegger called existentials, i. e. necessary dimensions of any societal life. If the political – understood in its hegemonic sense – involves the visibility of the acts of social institution, it is impossible to determine a priori what is social and what is political independently of any contextual reference. Society is not to be seen as the unfolding of a logic exterior to itself, whatever the source of this logic could be: forces of production, development of the Spirit, laws of history, etc. Every order is the temporary and precarious articulation of contingent practices. The frontier between the social and the political is essentially unstable and requires constant displacements and renegotiations between social agents. Things could always be otherwise and therefore every order is predicated on the exclusion of other possibilities. It is in that sense that it can be called “political” since it is the expression of a particular structure of power relations. Power is constitutive of the social because the social could not exist without the power relations through which it is given shape. What is at a given moment considered as the “natural” order – jointly with the “common sense” which accompanies it – is the result of sedimented hegemonic practices; it is never the manifestation of a deeper objectivity exterior to the practices that bring it into being.
Every order is therefore political and based on some form of exclusion. There are always other possibilities that have been repressed and that can be reactivated. The articulatory practices through which a certain order is established and the meaning of social institutions is fixed are “hegemonic practices”. Every hege-monic order is susceptible of being challenged by counter-hegemonic practices, i. e. practices which will attempt to disarticulate the existing order so as to install another form of hegemony.
What is at stake in what I call the “agonistic” struggle,⁴ which I see as the core of a vibrant democracy, is the very configuration of power relations around which a given society is structured. It is a struggle between opposing hegemonic projects which can never be reconciled rationally. An agonistic conception of democracy acknowledges the contingent character of the hege-monic politico-economic articulations which determine the specific configuration of a society at a given moment. They are precarious and pragmatic constructions which can be disarticulated and transformed as a result of the agonistic struggle among the adversaries. Contrary to the various liberal models, the agonistic approach that I am advocating recognizes that society is always politically instituted and never forgets that the terrain in which hegemonic interventions take place is always the outcome of previous hegemonic practices and that it is never an neutral one. This is why it denies the possibility of a non-adversarial democratic politics and criticizes those who, by ignoring the dimension of “the political”, reduce politics to a set of supposedly technical moves and neutral procedures.

The Public Space
What are the consequences of the agonistic model of democratic politics that I have just delineated for visualizing the public space? The most important consequence is that it challenges the widespread conception that, albeit in different ways, informs most visions of the public space conceived as the terrain where consensus can emerge. For the agonistic model, on the contrary, the public space is the battleground where different hegemonic projects are confronted, without any possibility of final reconciliation. I have spoken so far of the public space, but I need to specify straight away that, we are not dealing here with one single space. According to the agonistic approach, public spaces are always plural and the agonistic confrontation takes place in a multiplicity of discursive surfaces. I also want to insist on a second important point. While there is no underlying principle of unity, no predetermined centre to this diversity of spaces, there always exist diverse forms of articulation among them and we are not faced with the kind of dispersion envisaged by some postmodernist thinkers. Nor are we dealing with the kind of “smooth” space found in Deleuze and his followers. Public spaces are always striated and hegemonically structured. A given hegemony results from a specific articulation of a diversity of spaces and this means that the hegemonic struggle also consist in the attempt to create a different form of articulation among public spaces.
My approach is therefore clearly very different from the one defended by Jürgen Habermas, who when he envisages the political public space (which he calls the “public sphere”) presents it as the place where deliberation aiming at a rational consensus takes place. To be sure Habermas now accepts that it is improbable, given the limitations of social life, that such a consensus could effectively be reached and he sees his ideal situation of communication as a “regulative idea”. However, according to the perspective that I am advocating, the impediments to the Habermasian ideal speech situation are not empirical but ontological and the rational consensus that he presents as a regulative idea is in fact a conceptual impossibility. Indeed it would require the availability of a consensus without exclusion which is precisely what the agonistic approach reveals to be impossible.
I also want to indicate that, despite the similar terminology, my conception of the agonistic public space also differs from the one of Hannah Arendt which has become so popular recently. In my view the main problem with the Arendtian understanding of “agonism”, is that to put it in a nutshell, it is an “agonism without antagonism”. What I mean is that, while Arendt puts great emphasis on human plurality and insists that politics deals with the community and reciprocity of human beings which are different, she never acknowledges that this plurality is at the origin of antagonistic conflicts. According to Arendt, to think politically is to develop the ability to see things from a multiplicity of perspectives. As her reference to Kant and his idea of “enlarged thought” testifies her pluralism is not fundamentally different from the liberal one because it is inscribed in the horizon of an intersubjective agreement. Indeed what she looks for in Kant’s doctrine of the aesthetic judgment is a procedure for ascertaining intersubjective agreement in the public space. Despite significant differences between their respective approaches, Arendt, like Habermas, ends up envisaging the public space in a consensual way. To be sure, as Linda Zerilli has pointed out,⁵ in her case the consensus results from the exchange of voices and opinions (in the greek sense of doxa) not from a rational “Diskurs” like in Habermas. While for Habermas consensus emerges through what Kant calls “disputieren”, an exchange of arguments constrained by logical rules, for Arendt is a question of “streiten”, where agreement is produced through persuasion, not irrefutable proofs. However neither of them is able to acknowledge the hegemonic nature of every form of consensus and the ineradicability of antagonism, the moment of “Widerstreit”, what Lyotard refers to as “the differend”. It is symptomatic that, despites finding their inspiration in different aspects of Kant’s philosophy, both Arendt and Habermas privilege the aspect of the beautiful in Kant’s aesthetic and ignore his reflection on the sublime. This is no doubt related to their avoidance of “the differend”.

Critical artistic practices and hegemony
What kind of link can we establish between this theoretical discussion and the field of artistic practices? Before addressing this question I want to stress that I do not see the relation between art and politics in terms of two separately constituted fields, art on one side and politics on the other, between which a relation would need to be established. There is an aesthetic dimension in the political and there is a political dimension in art. This is why I consider that it is not useful to make a distinction between political and non-political art. From the point of view of the theory of hegemony, artistic practices play a role in the constitution and maintenance of a given symbolic order or in its challenging and this is why they necessarily have a political dimension. The political, for its part, concerns the symbolic ordering of social relations, what Claude Lefort calls “the mise en scène”, “the mise en forme” of human coexistence and this is where lies its aesthetic dimension.
The real issue concerns the possible forms of critical art, the different ways in which artistic practices can contribute to questioning the dominant hegemony. Once we accept that identities are never pre-given but that they are always the result of processes of identification, that they are discursively constructed, the question that arises is the type of identity that critical artistic practices should aim at fostering. Clearly those who advocate the creation of agonistic public spaces, where the objective is to unveil all that is repressed by the dominant consensus are going to envisage the relation between artistic practices and their public in a very different way than those whose objective is the creation of consensus, even if this consensus is seen as a critical one. According to the agonistic approach, critical art is art that foments dissensus, that makes visible what the dominant consensus tends to obscure and obliterate. It is constituted by a manifold of artistic practices aiming at giving a voice to all those who are silenced within the framework of the existing hegemony.
In my view this agonistic approach is particularly suited to grasp the nature of the new forms of artistic activism that have emerged recently and that, in a great variety of ways, aim at challenging the existing consensus. Those artistico-activist practices are of very different types, from a variety of new urban struggles like “Reclaim the streets” in Britain or the “Tute Bianche” in Italy to the “Stop advertising” campaigns in France and the “Nike Ground-Rethinking Space” in Austria. We can find another example in the strategy of “identity correction” of the Yes Men who appearing under different identities – for instance as representatives of the World Trade Organization develop a very effective satire of neo-liberal ideology.⁶ Their aim is to target institutions fostering neo-liberalism at the expense of people’s well-being and to assume their identities in order to offer correctives. For instance the following text appeared in 1999 in a parody of the WTO website: “The World Trade Organization is a giant international bureaucracy whose goal is to help businesses by enforcing ‘free trade’: the freedom of transnationals to do business however they see fit. The WTO places this freedom above all other freedoms, including the freedom to eat, drink water, not eat certain things, treat the sick, protect the environment, grow your own crops, organize a trade union, maintain social services, govern, have a foreign policy. All those freedoms are under attack by huge corporations working under the veil of free trade, that mysterious right that we are told must trump all others.”⁷ Some people mistook this false website for the real one and the Yes Men even managed to appear as WTO representatives in several international conferences where one of their satirical interventions consisted for instance in proposing a telematic worker-surveillance device in the shape of a yard-long golden phallus.
I submit that to grasp the political character of those varieties of artistic activism we need to see them as counter-hegemonic interventions whose objective is to occupy the public space in order to disrupt the smooth image that corporate capitalism is trying to spread, bringing to the fore its repressive character. Acknowledging the political dimension of such interventions supposes relinquishing the idea that to be political requires making a total break with the existing state of affairs in order to create something absolutely new. Today artists cannot pretend any more to constitute an avant-garde offering a radical critique, but this is not a reason to proclaim that their political role has ended. They still can play an important role in the hegemonic struggle by subverting the dominant hegemony and by contributing to the construction of new subjectivities. In fact this has always been their role and it is only the modernist illusion of the privileged position of the artist that has made us believe otherwise. Once this illusion is abandoned, jointly with the revolutionary conception of politics accompanying it, we can see that critical artistic practices represent an important dimension of democratic politics. This does not mean, though, as some seem to believe, that they could alone realize the transformations needed for the establishment of a new hegemony. As we argued in Hegemony and Socialist Strategy⁸ a radical democratic politics calls for the articulation of different levels of struggles so as to create a chain of equivalence among them. For the “war of position” to be successful, linkage with traditional forms of political intervention like parties and trade-unions cannot be avoided. It would be a serious mistake to believe that artistic activism could, on its own, bring about the end of neo-liberal hegemony.

Wiederabdruck
Dieser Text erschien zuerst in: Art&Research: A Journal of Ideas Contexts and Methods, 1 (2), 2007, www.artandresearch.org.uk/v1n2/mouffe.html [18.10.2014].

1.) Luc Boltanski, Eve Chiapello, The New Spirit of Capitalism. London 2005.
2.) Interview with André Gorz, Multitudes, 15, 2004, p. 209.
3.) Brian Holmes, “Artistic Autonomy”, www.u-tangente.org.
4.) For a development of this “agonistic” approach, see Chantal Mouffe, The Democratic Paradox. London 2000, chapter 4.
5.) Linda Zerilli, Feminism and the Abyss of Freedom. Chicago 2005, chapter 4.
6.) See for instance their book “The Yes Men. The True Story of the End of the World Trade Organization” published by The Disinformation Company Ltd, 2004
7.) The Yes Men Group website, www.theyesmen.org [29.9.2014]
8.) Ernesto Laclau, Chantal Mouffe, Hegemony and Socialist Strategy. Towards a Radical Democratic Politics. London 1985, 2nd edition 2001.

What Art Educators Should Know About Participatory Culture

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:38 +0000

In 2006, I led a team of MIT researchers who wrote a white paper for the MacArthur Foundation, Confronting the Challenges of a Participatory Culture, which sought to define what literacy might mean in the 21st century.¹ We argued that the emergence of networked computing was paving the way for an expansion of the communicative capacities of everyday people, including much greater access to the means of cultural production and circulation than ever before. At the core of that report was what we were calling participatory culture, which we defined as “a culture with relatively low barriers to artistic expression and civic engagement, strong support for creating and sharing one’s creations, and some type of informal mentorship whereby what is known by the most experienced is passed along to novices. A participatory culture is also one in which members believe their contributions matter, and feel some degree of social connection with one another (at least they care what other people think about what they have created)”². We saw the new media literacies as those skills required for meaningful participation.

There were a number of distinctive features of our conception of the new media literacies:
– We were pushing beyond text-based notions of literacy to include the full range of different ways that people could express their thinking to the world – from drawing to digital modeling, from making music to recording videos.
– The New Media Literacies were shared capacities that existed within a “community”, rather than individual competencies. Strengthening our new media literacies involved strengthening our connections with each other, fostering an ethos where we are producing and sharing knowledge together on an ongoing basis and creating a system that supports individual and collective expression.
– They are “social skills and cultural competencies” (such as play as a form of experimentation, appropriation and remixing, negotiating across cultural differences, shaping the circulation of our materials, visualization and simulation, etc.) and not simply technical skills. We have found ways to teach these habits of mind in low tech as well as high tech contexts.
– The skills we valued are not simply defined as 21st century skills focused on economic productivity, as has often been the case with other formulations, but also stress means of cultural and civic expression.

I have been gratified to see that this report has stimulated discussion around the globe about what media -education needs to look like in order to foster a more participatory culture. Note the shift in terminology. I do not today write about Participatory Culture as if it was one unified thing or as if we had fully achieved the qualities our definition described.³ Today, we need to be skeptical about claims regarding participatory culture: first, many different groups – especially Web 2.0 – have embraced a rhetoric of participation designed to capture and commodify the desires of the public for more meaningful participation and second, while the report spoke about the participation gap (those factors which block people from meaningful participation), it is much clearer today how many obstacles would need to be overcome before we can achieve the ideal of a fully participatory society.
As I reflect today on what I would want arts educators to know about participatory culture, I am drawn back to some ideas proposed in the 1970s by Seymour Papert, who I was privileged to know at MIT.⁴ Papert was describing the Samba Schools in Rio, a remarkable site of collective creative expression, where working class and low income people gather regularly to eat, dance, and prepare for the carnival. The elaborate performances for which Rio is known emerge through an ongoing process of improvisation which is open to anyone who wants to participate, and as Papert notes, this includes young and adult, but especially people at various levels of accomplishment, in a context where there are many different mechanisms fostering participation, many different ways of participating, and many opportunities for people to learn from each other. I’ve often described participatory culture as what happens when we apply the logics of folk culture to the materials of mass culture in the context of a networked society, so as we think about the ways that the online realm might foster creativity, we should be looking for the ways that these communities might come to look more like the samba schools Papert described in the 1970s.
Yes, all cultures are participatory, to some degree, but we have been taught not to expect that same level of robust and democratized participation, we’ve been told we can’t sing⁵, can’t dance, can’t draw, let aside make and share videos with each other. We need to help students to unlearn those lessons, to see the materials and practices of our culture as open to all. As someone trained in the cultural studies tradition, I tend to think of culture, much as Raymond Williams suggested, in terms of both the most accomplished and cherished works of our best creative talents and a set of practices and norms that constitute the everyday lives of the entire population.⁶ My notion of culture encompasses both the high and the low.
Some art critics bemoan the emergence of a more -participatory culture because it is generating so much “bad art” and “bad writing,” yet for me, this is its beauty. We teach children how to make pots not because the world needs many more great potters, but -because they learn something through the process of molding clay about themselves and the world around them. A realm where art is only professionalized is one that makes creating something unimaginable for most people. But, a world where we can see people struggling to master their craft, where artists can be bad, get feedback, and improve over time, is one which is much more open to entry for a diverse set of creators.
In my most recent book, Reading in a Participatory Culture, my co-authors and I share the story of Ricardo Pitts-Wiley, an African-American actor, playwright, director, and educator, who went into the prisons of Rhode Island to work with incarcerated youth.⁷ His goal was to get them to read Moby-Dick, one of the more difficult works in the American literary tradition. He challenged them to rewrite, reimagine, and remix the world that Herman Melville described, speculating on who these characters would be in the 21st century. These young men were almost all in prison because as a consequence of the war on drugs, so they rethought the story not as about the whaling trade but as about the drug trade. Pitts-Wiley, in turn, was inspired by their insights to create a stage play which combined an adult cast performing Melville’s original narrative and juxtaposed it with the story of a female gang leader, hell bent on vengeance for harm done to her family, and the men and women in her gang who need to decide how far they are willing to follow her down a path that insures everyone’s destruction. Pitts-Wiley models for us what it might look like to empower our students to remix core elements of their culture in the name of making meaning of their lives and the world around them.
My team of researchers at the University of Southern California have been tracing the paths through which American youth are becoming more politically engaged, research which has left us with a deeper appreciation of how creative expression may be an early stepping stone towards civic engagement.⁸ Again and again, looking at a range of different political movements and networks, we see that these groups have become enormously successful at tapping core stories in our culture as a set of shared frameworks for motivating social change. We are observing the capacity to produce and circulate video as a key means of spreading the word about shared concerns and we are witnessing the ways that the civic imagination – the capacity to imagine new and alternative worlds – can enable young activists to envision the change they hope to make. We are seeing feminists using yarn to lay claim to more public space, undocumented youth tap into the mythology of superheroes to retell their stories in ways that open people’s eyes, and youth produce videos that use Hunger Games to call out inequalities in economic opportunities.
A vision for a more participatory culture offers an alternative role for thinking about 21st century skills, one which is not about building the creative economy alone, but is really focused on creating a more expressive society. Arts educators have a vital role to play in that process.

1.) Henry Jenkins, with Katie Clinton, Ravi Purushotma, Alice J. Robison, and Margaret Weigel, Confronting the Challenges of Participatory Culture: Media Education for the 21st Century. Chicago 2006.
2.) Op. cit., p. xi.
3.) For more on the challenges of fully theorizing participatory culture, see Henry Jenkins, Nico Carpentier, “Theorizing Participatory Intensities: A Conversation About Participation and Politics,” Convergence, 19 (3), 2013, pp. 265–286.
4.) Seymour Papert, “Some Poetic and Social Criteria for Education Design,” talk delivered at the HUMRRO Conference, Sept 16–18, 1975, www.papert.org/articles/SomePoeticAndSocialCriteriaForEducationDesign.html [30.9.2014]
5.) For a useful discussion of how our culture teaches us we can’t express ourselves, see Robert Drew, “‘Anyone Can Do It’: Forging a Participatory Culture in Karaoki Bars,” in: Henry Jenkins, Tara McPherson, and Jane Shattuc (Eds.), Hop on Pop: The Politics and Pleasures of Popular Culture, Durham, NC 2003, pp. 254–269.
6.) Raymond Williams, “Culture is Ordinary,” Resources of Hope: Culture, Democracy, Socialism, London 1958, pp. 3–14.
7.) Henry Jenkins and Wyn Kelley, with Katie Clinton, Jenna McWilliams, Ricardo Pitts-Wiley, and Erin Reilly, Reading in a Participatory Culture: Remixing Moby-Dick for the Literature Classroom. New York 2013.
8.) Henry Jenkins, Liana Gamber-Thompson, Neta Kligler-Vilenchik, Sangita Shresthova, Arely Zimmerman, By Any Media Necessary: Mapping Youth and Participatory Politics. (forthcoming)

Art Education Is Radically Undertheorized

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:27 +0000

17 May, 2008, Dundee, Dundee Contemporary Arts, Visual -Research Centre

Based on Prof. Elkins’ book Why Art Cannot Be Taught -Cornelia Sollfrank speaks with the author about the different models of art education throughout history, the situation of contemporary art education and his own experiences as art student and art teacher.

CS: Prof. Elkins, in 2001 you have published a book with the provocative title Why Art Cannot Be Taught. I would like to discuss with you some of the ideas you have expressed in the book as a contribution to the current discussion about art education in Germany. As you probably know, the implementation of the Bologna Process has caused a new wave of discussion about that issue in which all the different models of art education – which are based on different understandings of art – are used to either appreciate or resist a reform of art education. One observation I have made in the course of the recent discussions was, that people tend to get very emotional about the subject – even if they are not (no longer) directly involved in art education.
JE: Art education is a huge subject and I should say that I am involved in this on all different levels. I am looking at the PhD in studio art, but I am also involved in how first year, undergraduate, beginning classes are taught in different countries, and that is the root of the problem. You can divide the problem into three parts: the first part is what happens in the first year; the second problem is what happens in upper level college undergraduate MA and MFA; and the third one concerns the PhD.
The first year used to be the first step in a number of determined steps in the French academy and the other Baroque academies: there were set curricula. So that you would know that you would start out with drawing from drawings, and then you would do drawing from casts, then drawing from the live model; and you would have satellite subjects like drapery studies, physiognomics, and things like that. That means the first year programs used to be the beginning of a clearly defined hierarchy. I think hierarchy is among the deepest requirements that universities make of anything that can be considered an academic field: an enterprise will not appear to be academic unless it has a hierarchy of stages.
With the debates now about the first year program, two things are in doubt: what the nature of that year is; and whether that first year prepares you in any way for what might follow in the next several years. And both of these questions usually are inadequately answered. In relation to what happens in the first year program, I divide the possibilities into four different possibilities of schools of thought (although I am not sure if the problem is altogether soluble):
– The first model used in first year instruction follows the French academy, and in conservative academies, that means you learn live drawing and naturalistic rendering. “Skill,” in that context, means ability to render in proper proportions, with some degree of representation of chiaroscuro, optical effects, and related subjects.
– The second model is the Romantic model, which means German Romantic art academies. Therefore it means the institution of one-on-one teaching; the idea that the artist has a voice; the idea that the inner life of the artist is what matters rather than the depiction of the exterior world.
– The third model I identify with the Bauhaus, which means in this scheme that you intend to go back to a tabula rasa. The modernist enterprise depends on erasing the heritage of irrelevant skills and starting again from basic forms and shapes and a fundamental understanding of the world as composed of abstraction. That includes all kind of familiar exercises like picking textures, finding colors, using motion, and all the rest
– The forth model does not have a name, but it would be something like the post-war Art Schools, which means to me, art as social critique, art as investigation of identity, and as expression and investigation of gender, which are fundamentally non-aesthetic forms of art. Ultimately they are bound to politics, not aesthetics.

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But you would never find any Art School or academy which would assign exclusively to one of these models …
That is exactly the problem. Almost every large art academy does all four of these things, all at once. And especially the second model is still the principal model for higher levels of art education, including the MFA. There you are supposed to have a tutor, a supervisor, a master. In regard to the third model, the Bauhaus, that is still very much present in the first couple of months of art instruction all around the world. Students are asked to do things like take clippings from newspaper, arrange them from black to white, and work with color as Joseph Albers did, training your sensitivity to contrast, tint, hue, and value.
I think these four models are in many ways fundamentally incompatible. And the only – even partial – solution that I can think of is to teach historical awareness along with the methods, so that for example first year students could do an exercise in matching colors of newspaper clippings, as in Albers’s book, and then be told that the exercise was part of the pedagogy in the ’20’s, ’30’s, and ’40’s, when the notion was to sweep students’ memories clean of the ruins of past academic practices. If historiography were taught along with the exercises of the first year program, students could gradually become aware of the fact that they were -getting a disharmonious education. And that would at least make them historically reflective.
But of course, this does not solve the problem. The only institutions that have solved the problem are those who just opt for one of the models. Usually those are the very conservative art academies that opt for the French academy model.

What is the teaching concept of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago where you are -teaching?
We almost have opted for the fourth model, the Post-war Academy. We have people who believe in aesthetics in different ways, but we have a large number of people for whom the very idea of making an aesthetic object is misguided, and who think that the purpose of educating an artist is principally to make a good citizen, or an ethically responsible inhabitant of the earth. (Environmentalism and sustainable art practices are in some ways continuations of the non-aesthetic goals of earlier politically and socially motivated art.)

To me it would make sense to have each Art Schools adopt a specific model, so that the students can just pick the model which is right for them – if they know what they want!
If they know what they want, exactly. That might be a problem at an early stage.
For example, the exhibition I saw here last night, the opening of the undergraduate show, had a very large proportion of painters – who are often the largest proportion of artists at any given institution – doing a kind of photorealist oil painting, which was described to me as “Dundee School” –

I was not aware of that, interesting –
That’s the kind of thing, I completely agree with you, that should be promoted. When such an emphasis or “school” exists, it should be nourished, but that almost never happens, because the school would then be forced to see itself as anachronistic or conservative. So it will never be an official policy here, it will never be in the promotional material, it will never be written up in advertisements: “Come here and study ‘Dundee Realism.’”

On the other hand this is indirectly done through the selection of the art instructors. In Germany it is still practice that names which are big in the art market are offered professorships so that the name of the artist then would stand for the School. An outstanding example for this is the HGB in Leipzig which has changed its profile since Neo Rauch, who is also allocated to “Leipziger Schule”, is teaching there. All of a sudden much more students wanted to study painting than e. g. media art which used to be another expertise of the school.
This is actually perceived as a strength from the outside, while institutionally it is perceived as a problem.
(And, by the way – this is parenthetical to what you are interested here – I feel the same way about art history departments: all around the world, they often have a strength, e. g. Modernists who specialize in Eastern Europe, but they virtually never will play to that strength, hiring more modernists. Instead they will almost always try to cover the world. And if they are big enough, and if they are in Western Europe, they will be interested in hiring a Chinese specialist, a southeast Asianist, and so on. Playing to your strength would be a way to solve the problem at an institutional level, but not on a global level, because you would always have the majority of the students would still want to be in the avant-garde, which would normally be the anti-aesthetic, the fourth model.)
In Chicago, where I teach, students can graduate without taking any life drawing class. They can go straight into digital video editing, and the underlying assumption there, which allows it to happen, is that no one medium or method has precedence. Drawing is not the foundation stone as it was in French academy.

I would even like to go one step back from first years, and ask what you think what the criteria should be, on the one hand to select students for studying art, and on the other hand, to select art instructors …
I think of those as totally different …

Yes, of course, but in the end these are the people who form the Art School, and I find it worth having a look how they get there …
This is really a big subject; but let me step back yet again and say it is different depending on the level, because at the first year program level, the large Art Schools will not be so analytically judgmental in selecting art students, but at the level of the MFA, Art Schools will be conscious that their students will represent them to the world, and so you have committees who reject students who have too much naturalistic skill, because it is felt that they are unteachable – they cannot unlearn what they have learned, so the admission commission will look for students with very wild, uncontrolled practices.
The bigger issue here is that the entire enterprise of art education is radically undertheorized at all levels, so conversations in admissions committees, in my experience, rely remarkably little on language. You get a lot of “aha,” “nn,” or “mm-hmm,” and when it comes to the verdict – shall we admit this student or not? – you hear a lot of “yeah, okay,” “no way,” or “fine.” And the same thing happens with professional juries. A moment of silence, and then “mm-hmm” or “nnn-hnn.” The relative lack of articulate, extended conversation – and of course I’m exaggerating here, but not too much! – is a sign of a radical lack of theorization.

But does this lack of theorization you are addressing not go back exactly to the way artists are – or are not – educated?
Yes, absolutely. But it also has to do with a lack of effective conferences, monographs, and meetings about the conceptual foundations of different stages of the artistic education process. I suspect that the MFA has never been adequately justified – anywhere in the world. I know about the situation in the States, and I know in that case that the original MFA was rushed through because it was part of the GI Bill, which was to enable ex-soldiers to get into colleges, and the actual document which sets out the purposes of the MFA is one page long and never has been augmented. I think one can say that no one in North America knows what an MFA is. Of course, things only get worse when you try to put a PhD on top of a degree which in itself is not understood.

But this is exactly what all the discussion we are having in Germany is about, it is about the possibility or impossibility to analyze, understand, define what degrees in art education are, and to define certain criteria which would enable a constructive discussion.
You wouldn’t want to be too rigid, but I think it would help the MFA degree if there were some imaginary form for it, philosophically speaking, and some effective conversation could be had around the component of Romanticism that suffuses the MFA. It is absolutely crucial for the MFA that the artist should be given kind of a voice, that they should start to consolidate their practice, and that they should have an individual manner or cohesive group of manners, that they should be comprehensible to viewers as people who are engaged in a coherent ongoing project. Those are all ideas from German Romanticism.
I might guess that there would be people who would like to resist the idea that such a genealogy should be brought out in the course of the MFA, but I would also guess that they would not know how to resist it, because the very idea of having one supervisor means that you have rejected the kinds of systematic rules of learning that are compatible with various non-Romantic systems of education including the French Academy and also the Bauhaus. Even the idea of working one on one with a supervisor is founded in Romanticism: it depends on the assumption is that your individuality as a student is fostered by the teachers’ individuality. This is not conventional teaching in the older sense, because what’s really being taught is individuality by example. You do not become the same person as your teacher is –

– sometimes you do.
Sometimes you do! [laughs] But the idea is that as a student, you have seen what individuality is, and you see how it could happen to you.

On what level could a discourse about art education be introduced within Art Schools? I don’t think that a lack of theory is problem. It seems that the formats within the institutions, which would include this discourse into the education process, do not exist. Reflecting about teaching and learning art should be part of teaching and learning art.
If I could answer that, I would be EU Commissioner for art education! I am trying, tough, and I am doing my part. We have a conference next year (2009), called “What do Artists Know?” and I want this conference to produce a book which will set out these problems, then it will at least be there, to be looked at. (The conference is listed at www.stonesummertheoryinstitute.org.) For example, first year education is debated in a number of different places: there are the ARCO conferences, which have extensive debates about this; there is College Art Association in the US, there is the British AAH; there is the International Art Historians Association (CIHA) – they all have had sessions on this topic. Almost always, the speakers end up being anecdotal; you end up with a speaker saying “In my college in (naming some tiny town), we have found an interesting exercise for first-year students …” and they’ll tell some story. I think what needs to be done is to set out, as clearly as possible, the best models.
The four models I mentioned earlier are different from models that have been proposed by the Belgian art historian Thierry de Duve, and perhaps a good starting place would be a comparison of his classification and mine. That is the kind of thing I plan to do in the book. So next time an administrator comes to look and ask him- or herself what can be done for art students, at least they will have a resource to argue with.

I think the question is how Art Schools can be forced to engage in the discussion, because as long as they are not forced, there will just be business as usual. Reflecting is just extra work.
Ah, you’re so right! I have been giving talks on the first year problematic, and I started getting asked by people how our model in Chicago works, and I had to admit that I had no idea, because I had nothing to do with our own first year program. Since then I have tried to start a dialogue with the people in our first year program; they are interested, but – as you say – they have no time, so it is very unlikely that we will produce a really conceptually strong revision of our first year program. What we have right now in Chicago – which is typical of most Art Schools – is an ad hoc mixture of three out of the four models, with no immediate hope of change.

Now comes what actually was meant to be my first question: You have studied Fine Arts yourself. Why did you decide not to become a practising artist, but a theorist? Does this have to do with your own art education?
Yes and no. I have the MFA, so I have the terminal degree, and technically speaking, I could be a studio art instructor, but I switched to art history. Part of the reason was the kind of education I had, but only a small part. It was more having to do with what I thought the truly difficult challenges were, and what I became interested in … and to do with the fact that I began to realize that my own art practice was appallingly bad.

Oh, really? [laughing]
Yes, very much anachronistic, and pretty much hopeless [laughing]. But this is another story, which is not a secret by the way …. The salient fact has really not to do with what we have been talking about so far, it has to do with the way critiques were held in the institution where I was, which was Midway Studios at the University of Chicago. In that MFA program, they had a kind of critique which we used to call a “psychodrama.” They were in a 45 minute format and sometimes would be -intensely, even violently emotional, and the student would sometimes end up crying in front of the 30 people in the room, faculty members and other students. Teachers were vicious, not all of them, but some.
And I should add here that all the faculty now has changed, none of them are the same, it is a different place now – but back then, the violence of the critiques made me wonder about how education could be carried on when it depends on the institution called “the critique.” And my book Why Art Cannot be Taught does have an argument about whether you can teach art or not, but the heart of that book is about critiques. It actually should have been called A Handbook of Critiques. That is what it really is.

Why do you give the critiques so much attention?
I still think that art critiques are the most irrational form of educational evaluation that exists in any field. I think of them as 99% irrational.

What do you mean by irrational?
Well, I am interested in critiques, and I say at the very end of the book that I don’t want to change them, but simply because you should not change anything you know nothing about.

Why do you say that? The whole book shows that you know so much about art education …
I am only talking about critiques now. I don’t think anybody knows much about them, by which I mean no one could know much about them, because they are so far from clear, logical, ordered, purposeful, controlled speaking.

You often hear from students that they are very well able to distinguish between a teacher who is able to do good critiques, constructive ones, and other teachers are not. I think there is a certain ability involved which is objectifiable. In my opinion it is a certain technique. Mainly of -asking -questions, which certain teachers have -developed – maybe unconsciously, and others have not.
I am very pessimistic about that subject.

Are you, really?
Yes. And maybe we should switch the conversation a little bit. Maybe instead of talking about critiques per se, we should talk about what it means to teach art. In that book I have a couple of theories that I gathered from talking to people when I asked them how they teach art. One of them, which sounds like the one you were just talking about, one of the theories is, that you can’t actually teach art itself, but you can teach up to it, right to the limit. In other words, you cannot make a great artist, but you can push people in the direction of art. Ask the right questions, in the right direction.

How about providing the right atmosphere, the skills, the knowledge …
That is a second theory: it is what I call the “incubator theory,” that Art School is like agar-agar – it helps art to grow; it has an atmosphere, a richness of discourse, it’s inspiring to be around and to learn …

In your book you use the term “infection” for that way of teaching.
Exactly. Ok, here is the pessimists’ answer to those two theories. First about the theory you raised a minute ago. I doubt that anybody knows how to ask the right questions. I doubt that anybody knows what direction a student should take. How should we know what that proper direction is? For example, somebody who has been doing performance art: how do you know that person might make better art when you push him/her in the direction of photography? Everyone has hunches, and these are based on many complicated experiences, but in fact there is no way to know for sure whether or not you are hurting a student, or hampering a student, or just slowing her up. If you want an easy tool to explore and spark creativity, try to generate images with AI in seconds — it allows you to experiment with visual ideas instantly, without needing technical skills or expensive equipment. It’s a playful, low-risk way to discover new artistic directions.
The pessimist’s answer to the other theory, the one about incubation is that, yes, Art Schools provide a wonderful atmosphere when they are good, they immerse you in the discourse of art, and they do definitely help you to talk to gallerists. You can definitely learn “art speak”; you can definitely learn new ways of articulating your practice. In that sense Art Schools help students learn a new language.
The problem is that, to my mind, that learning is an automatic, almost biological consequence of a rich environment; in the same way that a mother who is pregnant does the right things, eats the right food, sees her doctor regularly, but does not direct the formation of the child. Because the child is in the environment of the womb, it grows. You cannot prevent learning about art if you have the right “atmosphere.” There is a lack of control there, so no one can take direct credit for the outcome, and therefore art is not directed in the way that teaching physics and chemistry, biology, or economics are.

This may be true, and I think your book is very rich and inspiring to read: you provide a historical overview over art education through the centuries, you try to develop a theory and systematization of contemporary models to teach art, but I have to say, what I do not like about your book, is the end. After providing all the information which I think is a first step to demystify what is going on in Art School, at the end you say that it does not make any sense to try to understand how art is taught, and teaching art simply means to live a contradiction. That is too simple, and in a way it destroys all the efforts you have made before … Why are you going back to this mystification at the end? What purpose does it serve?
Critics have said that before – that the problem with the book is the way it ends. I would rather not say “mystification” but rather acknowledgement of our lack of knowledge, lack of our control of the situation. That was what I had in mind when I wrote the end. In order to change critiques, you would have to change things fundamentally. In the book that presents two possibilities: one is to go ahead and consider the different suggestions that I make throughout the book, and try to clarify and control critiques. The other is the route that I took, which is to say: Here are the different things you could say to clarify and control critiques, but most of them can’t be controlled.
I am torn about these two alternatives. But the reason that I chose the one that’s more pessimistic is because it’s more realistic. I think if I were Dean of an Art School, I could institute a procedure for critiques, which would follow some of the suggestions I make – and that others have made – to increase the number of clear and distinct ideas in critiques. But in doing that I would be instituting a practice which would be fundamentally different from any other Art School’s critique. I would be replacing critiques and creating some other practice.
I am not trying to defend the form of the book, it’s very problematic. I wrote it again I would probably be more optimistic and say: Okay, let’s just do what we can.

So something also changed for you since you wrote the book in 2001.
Yes, and that is also the reason why I would like to revisit that book. What I want to do is to split it in two – but that’s not a plan for the foreseeable future. The publisher would not want to do that; but it is really two books – one concerns the historical and critical issues around the development of Art Schools, which I think it is useful for students to know; and the other concerns critiques.

One more remark about the critiques just entered my mind: It actually is very similar to psychotherapy, where you also have the problem how to find the right therapist, who will be able to respond in a constructive way to your problems, who also will not know what the right way is, but still, through asking question helps you to find this way yourself. In order to make that work, there first needs to be established a sort of trustful relationship, but that is not enough, the therapist also must be equipped with a set of tools or techniques which prevent the whole undertaking to become personal and irrational. Maybe it is this set of tools or technique I am aiming for in the art education …
Art critiques are very often therapy. Occasionally the -student is seriously disturbed or there is some medical issue, and those critiques are literally therapy. I could tell you some stories about those; horrifying things can happen. The conversation about art stops, and some other conversation starts. On the other hand, there are almost no critiques that have no psychotherapy in them. Most critiques end to go back and forth because of the nature of art. And this is another source of confusion: it leads me back again to my pessimistic conclusion. Critiques are always already partly psychotherapy, but they are performed, usually, by people who have no knowledge of therapy and don’t even think of themselves as performing therapy. How much more illogical can you get?

And it brings me back to the very beginning where I have mentioned that people tend to respond very emotionally to the question of art education. I think we talked about some possible reasons for that, and one of them certainly is the traumatic experiences many artists made during their own education …
I love this subject: it makes me feel entirely helpless.

Wiederabdruck
Dieser Text erschien zuerst bei The THING Hamburg, 25. Mai 2008 unter http://thing-hamburg.de/index.php?id=796.

Art Teaching als kritische Praxis

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:27 +0000

Fragen nach Öffentlichkeit, politischer Relevanz und dem Umgang mit kultureller Differenz verbindet der Studiengang Master of Arts in Fine Arts Luzern programmatisch in seinen integrierten Schwerpunkten Art in Public Spheres und Art Teaching. Warum sollte dies sinnvoll sein? Was sind die konkreten Probleme, die daraus resultieren? Und was ist daran zukunftstauglich im Sinne von „What’s Next“?
Der Begriff „Public Spheres“ übersetzt in unserem Verständnis „Öffentlichkeit“ in Anlehnung an Jürgen Habermas (1962/1990). Habermas beschreibt folgende Effekte der Verschiebung von der Vorstellung einer „modernen“ Öffentlichkeit als gesellschaftliches Ganzes hin zu aktuellen Teilöffentlichkeiten:
„Die sozialstaatlichen Massendemokratien dürfen sich, ihrem normativen Selbstverständnis zufolge, nur solange in einer Kontinuität mit den Grundsätzen des liberalen Rechtsstaates sehen, wie sie das Gebot einer politisch fundierten Öffentlichkeit ernst nehmen. Dann muss aber gezeigt werden, […], dass das von Organisationen mediatisierte Publikum, durch diese hindurch, einen kritischen Prozess öffentlicher Kommunikation in Gang setzt.“¹Dieser kritische Prozess in einer nachmodernen und ausserhalb bürgerlicher Parameter situierten öffentlichen Kommunikation muss – aus unserer Sicht – aktuell auch von künstlerisch-kunstdidaktischen Praxen geleistet werden. Und zwar insbesondere von Praxen, welche politisch-ästhetische Strukturen und soziale Codierungen verstehbar und als Mechanismen begreifbar machen.² Der Fokus derartiger Vorgehensweisen liegt auf Partizipation an und selbstermächtigtem Nutzungsverhalten in Institutionen und Staatsapparaten – also auf Strategien der Aneignung teil-öffentlicher Zonen und Abweichungen von hegemonialen Wissensdiskursen.
Wenn wir weiter davon ausgehen, dass „Public Sphere“ in der Realität des marktgesteuerten Wirtschafts- und des machtgesteuerten Verwaltungssystems kein „gesellschaftliches Ganzes“ mehr bedeutet, muss eine kunst-didaktische Ausbildung, die sich als kritische Praxis versteht, versuchen, kolonialisierende Übergriffe der Systemimperative auf lebensweltliche Bereiche „einzudämmen.“ ³

Was ist sinnvoll am „Learning from artistic practice“?
Nach diesem Grundsatz bilden die im Laufe der letzten Jahrzehnte im Bereich von Public Art von Künstler_in-nen erprobten Strategien einen wichtigen Ausgangspunkt der Kunstdidaktik, indem sie den bürgerlichen Öffentlichkeitsbegriff radikal in Frage stellen. Public Art formuliert weiter eine Skepsis gegenüber traditionellen Strukturen von Museen und Kunstmarkt. Ein weiterer Ausgangspunkt von Public Art ist ein politisches Engagement, das für viele Künstler_innen neben den traditionellen ästhetisch formalen Fragen, inhaltliche Anliegen und gesellschaftliche Themen ins Zentrum ihrer Praxis rücken. „Queer Reading“, Post-Colonial Studies und feministische Kunstpraxen stellen nur einige von vielen Strategien dar, die sich Künstler_in-nen anbieten. Störungen und Provokationen richten sich aktuell nicht gegen ein Kunstestablishment, sondern gegen das indifferente Bewusstsein einer „breiten Öffentlichkeit“ und gegen rechtspopulistische Strömungen.
Aktuell befassen sich künstlerische Positionen im -öffentlichen Raum mit institutionellen Machtverhältnissen, sozialen Strukturen und gesellschaftlichen -Repräsentationssystemen. In zahlreichen künstlerischen und künstlerisch-aktivistischen Projekten spielen deshalb Fragen der Vermittlung (wer wird wie adressiert?) und der Darstellung (welche Formen der -Repräsentation sind angemessen?) eine Schlüsselrolle.
Bezogen auf unsere Ausbildung bedeutet das, dass wir kunstpädagogische Positionen in Auseinandersetzung mit Positionen wie der „Ästhetischen Forschung“ nach Helga Kämpf-Jansen⁴entwickeln. Interdiszipli-näres Denken, experimentelles Vorgehen, die Verflechtung von -Alltagserfahrungen mit Kunst und Wissenschaft zeigt -ästhetische Handlungsfelder und Methoden der Meinungs- und Willensbildung auf, die einer plu-ralistischen, multikulturellen Gesellschaft gerecht -werden.

Welche Probleme generiert diese Form der Kunstdidaktik?
Die in der Ausbildung entwickelten Unterrichtsprojekte sprengen häufig die fachlichen, räumlichen und zeitlichen Grenzen und Strukturen der Schulen. Denn die institutionellen Voraussetzungen innerhalb des Bildungssystems Schule sind in mehrerer Hinsicht restriktiv, insofern Lehrpläne grundsätzlich auf die Vermittlung von Techniken, Verfahren, Materialerfahrungen und Allgemeinwissen im Feld des Bildnerischen Gestaltens zielen. Diese Regulierungen stehen in engem Zusammenhang mit dem üblichen Zeitgefäss – der „Doppellektion“ – und erzeugen Konflikte zu Unterrichtsprojekten, bei denen aktuelle künstlerische Methoden der Partizipation, Selbstermächtigung und der kritischen Reflektion institutioneller Bedingungen einfliessen sollen, um die institutionellen Rahmenbedingungen und den Bildungsbegriff zu befragen.‘
Im Frühling 2013 realisierte Julie-Anne Gardo an der Kantonsschule Sarnen ein Unterrichtsprojekt mit einer vierten Klasse des Langzeitgymnasiums als Master–Abschlussprojekt.⁵ Thematisch ging es um das 1890 -erbaute Schulgebäude (Neurenaissance), welches architektonisch und historisch einen bestimmten bürgerlichen Bildungsbegriff illustriert. Es ist ein Ort, an dem die SuS sehr viel Zeit verbringen und der von vielen -Alltagserfahrungen geprägt ist.
Die Auseinandersetzung mit dem Gebäude, dessen -aktuellen Nutzungen im Format der Zeichnung, ein -Medium das Julie-Anne Gardo für ihre eigene künstlerische Tätigkeit einsetzt, führte dazu, dass Bildungsbegriffe und ihre Entwicklungen thematisierbar wurden. Die Arbeit mit historischem Hintergrundwissen führte bei den SuS auch zu einem differenzierteren Blick auf die vielen baulichen Details, die in unterschiedlichen Stilen die Veränderung aufzeigten – und auch veränderte Bildungsprinzipien repräsentieren. Daraus ent-wickelten sie ihre Eingriffe.
Das Medium Zeichnung diente als Mittel der Beobachtung, der Recherche, der visuellen Aneignung und differenzierten Auseinandersetzung mit den Formen der -bestehenden Architektur und schliesslich zum Entwerfen der Interventionen. Das Projekt sprengte in verschiedener Hinsicht den Rahmen konventioneller Unterrichts-projekte: Die SuS standen von Anfang an in einem zum grössten Teil selbstgesteuerten Prozess, während dessen die Art und Weise, wie Zeichnung eingesetzt wurde, die Themenfokussierung, der Entwurf von möglichen Eingriffen, die Wahl und die Umsetzung der Interventionen selbst bestimmt und als gestalterischer Prozess erlebt wurden. So wird der Kunstunterricht zu einer Methode kunstpädagogischen Handelns, die im Spannungsfeld von aktuellen künstlerischen Strategien, Alltagserfahrungen, wissenschaftlichen Methoden und Selbstreflexion liegt. Obwohl die Arbeiten während einer Vernissage einer breiteren Öffentlichkeit gezeigt wurden und für eine bestimmte Dauer im Schulhaus blieben, legte Julie-Anne Gardo grossen Wert darauf, den Werkcharakter der Arbeit nicht überzubewerten. Die Kunst-Lehrenden erleben sich gerade in partizipativen Projekten immer wieder auch als „Nicht-Expert_in-nen“ – aber kann und darf man im Schulunterricht (auch) scheitern, und (wie) kann die Lehrperson zu Selbst-ermächtigung ermutigen?

Was sind unsere darauf aufbauenden Zukunfts-visionen?
Die Auseinandersetzung zu möglichen Wechselwirkungen zwischen lokalen Ausstellungsinstitutionen, zeitgenössischer Kunsttheorie sowie Kunstpädagogik, eigener Praxis und Vorlieben von Gymnasiallehrer_innen analysierten Bernadett Settele und Alexandra D’Incau in ihrer Pilotstudie „Kunst im Lehrerzimmer – die Kunst und das Schulzimmer“ exemplarisch. Sie fragten: Was verraten materielle, visuelle Manifestationen in den Schulräumen des Bildnerischen Gestaltens über implizite Kunstbegriffe von BG-Lehrer_innen und (wie) nehmen sie Einfluss auf ihre fachdidaktischen Ansätze/Handlungen? Wie entwickeln sich die Kunstbegriffe von Lehrpersonen in und an der Schulpraxis weiter? Wie zeigt sich das häufig implizit bleibende Referenzsystem? Schulhausflure und Zeichensäle sind halböffentliche Orte, an denen Vermittlung stattfindet, die bis in die Gesellschaft hineinreicht. In und durch diese Räume und ihre Gestaltung wird das Kunst- und Kulturverständnis derjenigen, die in ihnen lernen, geprägt. Vermittelt über die Kunsthochschulen, über Museen und Ausstellungsinstitutionen tragen materielle und visuelle Aspekte sowie die persönlichen Auffassungen und Vorlieben der Lehrperson massgeblich zum Lernen und Tradieren von Kunst als Teil der Kultur bei. Dabei entstand ein Bildarchiv mit Übersichten, Zooms, Lehrer- vs. Schülerperspektive (Blickrichtung). In den Fokus rücken die Schulzimmer als Gesamtes, Bilder, Objekte, Poster, Werke von Schülerinnen und Schülern, didaktisches Anschauungsmaterial, Kritzeleien, Vitrinen mit Sammel- und Studienobjekten etc. Im Sinne der Kulturanalyse wurden „[…] Praktiken des Sehens, des Interpretierens, des Deutens oder auch des Zu-Verstehen-Gebens, der Gesten, der Rahmungen des Zeigens und Sehens in den Mittelpunkt“⁶der Forschung gestellt. Biografisch-narrative (und in einem zweiten Schritt fotogestützte Interviews) mit Lehrpersonen ergänzten die Methodik. Dies in Fortschreibung von Unterrichtserfahrungen wie bei Julie-Anne Gardos Praktikum, mit dem Fokus, zukünftig der Handlungspraxis den notwendigen Reflexionsrahmen zur Seite stellen zu können.
Unser Ziel besteht in einer umfassenden Untersuchung, die Fragen der aktuellen Kunstpädagogik basierend auf einer Public Art Practice mit Gestaltungs- und Raum(planungs)fragen sowie der gesellschaftlichen Kontextualisierung der erforschten Phänomene verschränkt.
Die Auseinandersetzung mit Fragestellungen der „künstlerisch informierten“ Fachdidaktik trägt hoffentlich dazu bei, Lehrende und Lernende auf blinde Flecken innerhalb der Kunst und ihrer Pädagogik im Unterricht Bildnerisches Gestalten an Maturitätsschulen zu sensibilisieren und konstruktiv zur Disposition zu stellen. Unsere Lehrpraxis sowie die Umsetzungen der SuS fordert heraus, das Territorium und Refugium immer wieder neu unter die Lupe zu nehmen und Handlungsfelder neu abzustecken; dies erfordert kollektive Aktionen, konkrete Anwesende sowie partizipierende und mitbestimmende TeilnehmerInnen.⁷ Forschungsprojekte in diese Richtung (transkulturelle Pädagogik, interdisziplinäre Unterrichtsprojekte) sind in Bearbeitung.

1.) Jürgen Habermas, Strukturwandel der Öffentlichkeit. Frankfurt/M. 1990, S. 33.
2.) Pierre Bourdieu, Practical Reason, On the Theory of Action. Stanford 1989, S. 3.
3.) Vgl. Habermas 1990, S. 35–36.
4.) Helga Kämpf-Jansen, Ästhetische Forschung: Wege durch Alltag, Kunst und Wissenschaft. Zu einem innovativen Konzept ästhetischer Bildung. Marburg 2012.
5.) Katalog Manöver Sarnen, Abschlussausstellung Master of Arts in Fine Arts, Hochschule Luzern, Design & Kunst, Luzern 2013.
6.) Sigrid Schade und Silke Wenk, Studien zur visuellen Kultur. Bielefeld 2011, S. 9.
7.) Vgl. Habermas 1990, S. 43.

lost after infancy, too

admin — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 13:16:16 +0000

I never knew if it mattered what I did artistically. In any case I stopped producing works as objects – what were they anyway? – at some point and looked for alternative ways of artistic practice, focusing on a collaborative approach, because most of what I had done so far was to some extent done collectively. What was I to do? In order to not get lost I had to restrict myself first I thought; to start by looking at what constituted my direct surroundings and continually broaden the perspective from there.
It became apparent pretty quickly, that the internet as universal tool played a big part in my daily life and still does. Sometimes it even feels like I live online, when I barely leave the house. And when I do, I still have my phone in my pocket, right? But why has it become such a big part of me? How come I love records, but listen to a lot of music online? Maybe because I can also read the news, go shopping and chat with friends all at the same time there. For all those activities I use dedicated services. I have a main twitter-, facebook-, soundcloud-, skype-, youtube-, tumblr- and a mail-account, as well as several secondary/spam/fake monikers for similar sites, a handful of different bulletin boards and instant messaging log-ins, shopping sites, news-portals, I regularly visit – the list goes on and on, and yet I feel far away from being up to date in that respect.
Now all before-mentioned services ask for a username to login with and most of them make you choose a profile picture, too. Up until the rise of the web 2.0, and later specially Facebook and Twitter, usernames were usually nicknames, sometimes funny, often randomly chosen, mostly inside jokes or boring combinations of ASCII characters in the form of “m4giC41337666” and profile pictures, if used at all, showed avatar-like fantasy images, a pre-defined generic image, obscenities or your favorite pet. Anonymity was the key ingredient for creating accounts to a utopian playground for phreeks, geeks, hackers and those who wanted to become one of them. By contrast, the introduction of social networks went hand in hand with a decisive shift: The accepted and expected usage of real names and real pictures, calling for one visibly unified identity. In return it’s become relatively easy to compare profile pictures of any given person on different platforms today. Those images – even though they do at best depict the same human being, rather try to emphasize the qualities of their respective role in that social network, the brand we try to market and our obligation to self-design. Petra Löffler finds the longing for maximum visibility of all involved sounds suspiciously like the fulfillment of Baudrillard’s theory of connectivity; the alliance between everyone’s permanent desire for seeing and being seen “establishes a new order of seeing. […] Today, it is no more that the few see the many ([Foucault’s] panopticon), or the many see the few (popular stars) – today, because of the multiplication and connectivity of screens in public and private spaces, the many see the many.”¹ For a graphic example just image search user profiles of (geo)social networking services and compare the results to those of job related communities: Where the focus lies on physicality, fitness and appeal in the dating sphere, business oriented profiles tend to represent seriousness, reliability and professionalism, against suggestions to keep the same picture throughout all platforms for the sake of recognition and respectability.
In the end all profiles might share traces of the same source but what they mirror are whitewashed versions and in extreme cases altogether different personalities. Roy Ascott farsightedly declares in 1994 that in our hyper-connected times we’ll be “only interested in what can be made of ourselves, not what made us. As for the sanctity of the individual, well, we are now each of us made up of many individuals, a set of selves.”² It is very important to understand, that this divisibility of the self, is in turn as much symptomatic as it is a fundamental trait indispensable for partaking in our networked world today. As a consequence, when the dichotomy between one and many, original/fake, real/virtual or private/public dissolve into fluid planes of meaning, the border between the two will be displaced and eventually put into question. Simultaneously we become not only hybrids of a set of selves, but also, knowingly and deliberately or not “chimeras, theorized and fabricated -hybrids of machine and organism; in short, we are cyborgs.”³ Hence the distinction between man and machine or more generally put between human and non-human cannot be sustained anymore, which also means problems (and the solutions they call for) cannot be only social, excluding technological, linguistic, media or any other aspects, or vice versa – they, too become hybrids.
Interestingly enough, one of the keynotes during this year’s transmediale titled “Art as Evidence”, delivered by Trevor Paglen, Laura Poitras and Jacob Applebaum, revolved around the same term – visibility – and posited the question: What if art today is about exactly that: visibility? Can the same ambiguous visibility be implied? Being visible, which requires standing out, making something visible for as many as possible, to be visible at all, and also being able to see? As set out above this is a social problem, as it is also a question of media, technology, philosophy, biology, and so forth but to begin with it’s the former that I want to pursue by asking: How can artists play that role in society? Is there not already a movement that is using exactly the tactics of visibility to introduce social change: activism? Can art do this better, differently, worse, not at all? To be able to discuss this, I want to have a quick look at where the areas of art/artist and activism/activist overlap today, what capacity utopian politics take up within this intersection and if visibility really is a valid approach how it can be ensured that not only a lot of people are reached in the end, but also how visually difficult, yet important content can be equally represented in the system without running into the risk of becoming mere spectacle. “Only rarely do we think about our dreams as possibilities necessary to our present.”⁴ It seems to be out of question, that art and activism share some common ground today. So trying to tell both apart proves difficult. Asking those who lay claim to having sufficient cultural importance produces a wide spectrum of possible answers and scenarios, that would not only be boring to elaborate, but also go well beyond the scope of my intent. McLuhan will have to serve as one example of many. When “art is what you can get away with”, reversely, could activism be defined as “what you can be thrown in jail for”? But seriously how can we agree upon definitions, when the mere proclamation of affiliation – the more often and the louder the better – to one or the other seems to suffice itself? Does it make sense to subsume art under aesthetics and activism under politics? Are those fields mutually exclusive? Do we have to make a distinction at all? The answer, to amplify with Rancière, what has already been said about the binary notion of dichotomies before, can only be no. Such allegories of inequality have to be dismissed as superimposed oppositions and the question should rather be reformulated: Can there be non-political aesthetics today, art without activism? “[For] aesthetics and politics […] overlap in their concern for the distribution and sharing out of ideas, abilities and experiences to certain subjects – what Rancière calls ‘le partage du sensible’. In this framework, it is not possible to conceive of an aesthetic judgement that is not at the same time a political judgement”⁵. While this argument could also be used to validate l’art pour l’art, or argue aestheticism’s -social functionlessness away, it can be seen equally as a reminder of the political obligation of aesthetic/artistic practice and a farewell to the imperative of a distinction. With this in mind Rancière describes possible modes of such an artistic production: the inventory, where the artist is “… at once an archivist of collective life and the collector”⁶; the invitation, creating unexpected situations that lead to relational encounters, the mystery, juxtaposing the incompatible, suggesting “-co-presence” and being with otherness and the game, humor as move from critical to ludic, to suspend, in a society working towards the accelerated consumption of signs, the meaning of the protocols of reading those signs; turn the protocols on their head. All involve to some degree a utopian impulse: “The general idea that art could actively participate in the process of building a just society.” ⁷But can an artistic self-conception after the politics of aesthetics still utilize the aforementioned formulas even though art today no longer needs to respond solely to -itself or the excess of commodities and signs (as showcased for instance by 1960’s conceptual art and its successors), nor only to the lack of connections (the 90’s, -relational aesthetics), but to an abundance of hyperconnected excess? Boris Groys has suggested that this new era leads to a spectacle without spectators because the immeasurable quantity of artistic production could not be grasped by a spectator anymore resulting – who would have thought – in a struggle for visibility, in relation to the common experience of a permanent shortage of time, because art still needs an understanding spectator (or participator, collaborator), who verifies art as art. So when everything is information, everything becomes material and “everything is up for grabs”⁸ does it not seem more appropriate to “hit hard, then hope for the best. Repeat” ⁹ to arrest the spectator’s attention? Does the artist accordingly not play along similar rules as everyone else – distinction and conformity? Hal Foster criticizes a general tendency of those formulas to rather hit hard and focus on “happy interactivity”, which may be driving art towards a “post-critical” self conception, art that ultimately works to “aestheticize the nicer procedures of our service economy” by positing dialogue, -sociability, and collaboration as good for their own sake all while leaving “contradiction out of the dialogue, and conflict out of democracy.” On the other hand, -Metahaven reappropriate the famous slogan of 60’s -movements and transform it into “the personal is geo-political”¹⁰ to show that conflict and contradiction are far from disregard or exclusion. Unfortunately, the exchange of information today is not as straightforward as it appears to be at first glance. Most of the traffic on the internet today is created not by humans, but by bots.
According to a study conducted by Pew Internet back in 2011, Americans between 18 and 29 already sent and received an average of nearly 88 text messages per day, compared to 17 phone calls. Hence texting, or more generally written communication as a medium, has left the traditional call or talk in the dust to become the most common form of communication in a hyper-networked western world today. Against the backdrop of the developments after the Summer of Snowden it’s almost unbearably ironic that the written word once started out as one of the earliest forms of cryptography in times where literacy was reserved to an elite few. I’ll come back to that later, first let’s not forget about the rest of the world: One could argue that, with about 897 million illiterate people in the world allocated mostly in the global south, literacy still acts as a great barrier to proper education and self-determination. Universal -access to the internet, which is now a fundamental human right, follows closely: more than 60% of the world’s population and 85% of Africans lack information and communications technology as of 2013. Along those lines the global digital divide is, though in steady decline, reinforcing the already disastrous economic circumstances, not least because of the apparent interdependencies of both fields. Nonetheless that is just the first rung on a figurative ladder, with each succeeding step being by definition more complex for the individual, harder to comprehend and therefore seemingly -further and further apart the higher you climb and eventually remaining beyond the majority’s reach very quickly.
At the same time “the value of knowledge […] is degrading constantly and expanding the experience of not-knowing correspondingly. The more the world is -becoming interconnected, the more we realize how important interconnections are, the more we realise we actually know less than we thought we knew.” ¹¹So the question is clearly not about the existence of a lack of balance anymore but: has this ever been as obvious as it is today? And far more pressing: How can we change that and find useful workarounds? The solution seems equally at hand: Every one of us. Everywhere. Connected.
As a start the generous decision to reach back down, to help others on their ascent might prove useful. Use the power and intelligence of the collective: Get creative together, communicate and give each other a leg-up, like we used to as kids playing in the back-yards, trying to climb walls together, that were just too high for us alone.
The more complex a task, the farther away from your individual knowledge, the more you have to rely on the network’s collective intelligence and collaborate.
Thus access to the network equals access to information/intelligence equals self-determination equals ultimate solution. So far, so good. Would this utopian tale of solidarity still not leave too many important variables out of the equation, we’d be happily living the dream of hyper-connectivity. But we already know better. At least we should be aware after various revelations that, as Ned Rossiter condensed, “acts of communication are now, by definition, acts of surveillance meshed within an economy that aggregates even the affective, non-representational dynamics of relation” ¹²; all of a sudden being connected has gained quite a negative connotation, the telematic dream of cyberception seems to have shattered, or turned against itself: “all the data flowing through any access node of a network are equally and at the same time held in the memory of that network: they can be accessed at any other interface through cable or satellite links, from any part of the planet, at any time of day or night.”¹³ Now by our very living “under the cloud”, we constantly generate data beyond our control, even if we are not online: Smart Cities relentlessly monitor their inhabitants, who themselves incessantly fidget with their smartphones along the way, checking in at their favorite bar, uploading the latest geo-tagged selfie, tracking their jogging trail, calorie input/output/consumption and their brainwaves while meditating, or they might just be plain texting, talking or googling;
“I was here” is not reserved to an act of vandalism or graffiti writing, a tag on sights, walls, trains or public restrooms anymore, if anything it’s the monotonous message we are invariably feeding into the cloud – if you will the bread crumbs in our private Hansel and Gretel fairy-tale, except we ignorantly scatter them most of the time. All those bits and pieces of information amount to an almost incomprehensible volume of big data attached to each and everyone of us, our personal profile. The less you are able to control your data, the more others know about you by your data.
More and more people start to realize how severe the entanglement has already become, how far they are immersed in their filter bubble , to what degree they are what they search to algorithms and thus can only find what they are. That produces a fear of heteronomy, because of a failure to comprehend and adapt to a new reality, or rather the realization thereof. The notion of individual privacy as public invisibility we had in the 2000’s is passé and concurrently no sufficient frame of reference anymore. Actually privacy has been long gone even before the revelations of Snowden and other whistleblowers insofar as ”in the networked context, [it] entails less the possibility of retreating to the core of one’s personality, to the true self , and more the danger of disconnection from a world in which sociability is tenuous and needs to be actively maintained all of the time because it is based on explicit acts of communication. Otherwise, the network simply reconfigures itself, depriving one of the ability to develop one’s individuality.”¹⁴ But what should be our starting point until then, if individual privacy is no more a safe basis from where we decide what is to become visible? Can we still uphold the paradigm of visibility under these circumstances? We have to find a different way to become invisible in order to stay in control over what is visible, as paradox as it may sound. “The desire for anonymity is not (only) a result of the simultaneous disappearance of privacy and the public. It is, above all, an indication of the growing interest in self-determined uses of social production and technologies of the common that may have been developed and distributed across commercial infrastructures, but whose modes of relation already outgrow the imaginative scope of economies of scarcity and rival goods.”¹⁵ And I assume this is Theaster Gates’ concern about art, when he says: “It is a moment when things don’t stay secret long enough, are not allowed to grow quietly. One can’t do anything without people saying, ‘Look at that person.’”¹⁶Anonymity is not to be confused with confidentiality or irresponsibility, but the ability to communicate ad libitum without leaving clues to one’s identity or being spied upon, which in a nutshell enables a new kind of agency. But what does that mean? Wikipedia says: “The capacity of an agent (a person, collective, any living being in general) to act in a world.” ¹⁷ This capacity, as we have seen, requires visibility (availability) of information, so it can integrate moral judgments and ethical considerations; a good example why we probably have to let go of the copyright as an obsolete relic from times where genius and god were still alive because it often hinders said availability. So are we stuck in a constant feedback loop? How can artists cope with anonymity, when names, titles and authorship still seem so important? Where does it leave us in relation to the initial reflection that art is supposed to make things visible, which as we already found is not supposed to be itself, but at the same time needs to be identifiable as such by a spectator?
It’s fundamentally paradox. As Graham Harman explains we have to go back a bit to untangle this paradox enmeshment of what’s visible on the surface, what’s visible at all and what can be made visible: With Heidegger’s tool-analysis, this visibility cannot be about a complete representation of things – to bring to mind by description as in making things visible – because no one, neither in theory nor praxis, because both operate on the surface, exhausts the objects he/she encounters, and can therefore never describe them sufficiently. Marshall McLuhan likewise famously propagates “the medium is the message,” which denies the foreground any meaningful content.¹⁸ But the foreground is exactly where the action takes place, where the change for the structures that dwell in the depths happens and is made possible, because a medium itself cannot change, just as for Heidegger Being is incapacitated without our Dasein on the face of the earth. In Harman’s view, this is the first revenge of the surface that helps us untie this knot a bit. The second is showing, that the background must not be mistaken for a unity, instead it is as hybrid, as manifold as the surface is also allowed to have depth. As a consequence the invisible underlying structures are not only the message, as the surface content gets back some of its lost capacity. Thus it’s a work on the surface to permeate and transform the structures beneath. Accordingly the task of artists should be described as a matter of allowing for agency by means of visibility: “Those who cannot perceive the network cannot act effectively within it, and are powerless. The job, then, is to make such things visible.”¹⁹ To eliminate potential elites, that demand complex skill-sets from their few members, by openly providing those skill-sets to the public. Open new paths. Establish alternative networks. Empower people. Enable DIY culture. But how can this be achieved without coming across didactic, without consolidating unequal conditions without the implicit presupposition of a good knowledge that is to be transferred onto ignorants? First of all by insisting on what we already found: The insufficiency of dichotomous thinking.
We have to remember our hybridity, the absence of a subject/object relationship and an absoluteness, that has been undone and then turn to Rancière once again, who claims everyone could learn continually and mutually from one another by collective emancipation from the principle of inequality. For him the classic teacher/student relationship not only represents this unequal distribution of intelligence by teaching the student what he does not know, but also that he is unable to understand it by himself, reaffirming this very principle endlessly – Jacotot’s process of stultification. Emancipation however is “the process of verification of the equality of intelligence”²⁰ and therefore begins with rejecting dichotomies, not reversing them. “We have not to turn the ignorant into learned persons, or, according to a mere scheme of overturn, make the student or the ignorant the master of his masters.”²¹ Because that still implies not only that there is something to be identically transferred from A to B, but also that this transmission is possible without losing something along the way; in the distance between A and B.
Instead the paradox of the ignorant master shows how the student can learn what his master does not know by separating cause (teaching) and effect (learning) through emancipation into a process of bilateral translation. After all, Rancière posits, we should appreciate what gets lost in translation, and implement that in our practice by refusing the borders between disciplines and translating between them – unfolding the invisible mechanisms and methodologies on the way. This actually requires spectacle as the site of verification and mediation of said translation, analogical to Harman we could speak of a revenge of the spectacle: “In the logic of emancipation, between the ignorant schoolmaster and the emancipated novice there is always a third thing – a book or some other piece of writing – alien to both and to which they can refer to verify in common what the pupil has seen, what she says about it and what she thinks of it.”²² As a result, or more readily as a foundation, we have to reconsider the way we talk and think about society and art as well as the ways of producing and making a living: A new sensibility of openness has to be fostered, that provides the tools for making reasonable choices all while embracing our hybrid identity and declaring not a fear-fueled war against them but solidarity with all its components – the machine and the rest – on the one hand and everything else, both human and non-human objects in society on the other. An attempt to bridge the gap between skepticism towards and receptiveness to exchange and innovation requires a leap of faith, that admittedly is often more difficult put into practice as on paper, but we cannot shy away from this challenge.
K-hole even claim it’s a new freedom. And this freedom expresses itself exactly through this new sensibility, whether meant as a tongue in cheek comment on coolness and fashion or not, being normcore means letting go of the omnipresent (and worn-out) desire of our times for differentiation, for being something special. More-over the resulting acts of solidarity that a new sensibility could bring about, require new organizational scaffolds. Felix Stalder draws up four combinable forms of infrastructures of agency, that are still “very much in their infancy”²³ yet seem applicable and have already proven so: Commons, organised, long term processes by which a group of people manages a physical or informational resource for joint use – most famously Wikipedia, Wiki-Leaks or The Pirate Bay; Assemblies, “non-hierarchical, usually physical gatherings focused on consensus-based decision making; Swarms, ad hoc, self-steering collective actors; and Weak Networks, groups constituted by extensive, yet casual and limited social interaction.”²⁴ Grassroots directly democratic decision-making has its limits, and even in smaller groups it can be quite a hassle. Partly delegating your vote because of inexperience in certain fields or just because you can’t be everywhere at the same time, while concentrating on personal strengths and keeping the whole processes transparent, is of course not a brand-new concept – Lewis Carroll already described the idea of Delegated Voting back in 1884. The open-source project “Liquid Feedback” however incorporated these ideas and offers a free tool to easily establish such structures at whatever scale in the field. Ilja Braun recently proposed we have to bear the consequences of creativity’s democratization by letting all those, who contribute to a networked commons, participate in the profit of those, who economize those contributions. The question remains how? Jaron Lanier however envisions a different approach in his book “Who Owns the World” that utterly abandons open-access and notions of free sharing, because in practise “it only makes matters worse”²⁵. All the users, who individually produce readily accessible content – raw sources – for free, play right into the hands of the few who have the biggest computers and or control over the data; happy EULA accident they are the only ones to make profit. Instead he proposes an inter-user based micro-payment system, that roughly speaking makes sure everyone gets paid for their content by those who access it. He argues this would guarantee for the survival of a solvent middle class that in return is crucial for a functioning capitalist system as we know it.
I have come from me, to you to everyone we know, to everyone, which is the public at large, that has changed, because its participants are multiplicities, everythings; why communication needs to change, to change society and how art can be part of this process, through – invisibly or not – making things visible to enable agency. We in turn have to emancipate ourselves to allow us to see things differently. Give a little, take a little, lose a little, gain a little – translate; embed ourselves in a new openness to the benefit of a society that takes manifold objects seriously. Our identity obligates us to social com-mitment; after all we cannot bite the hand that feeds us. But is this really the case?
Federico Campagna conceives an approach that sheds a totally different light on social obligations and the public as such: When he refers to the public or society as spooks, he invokes Max Stirner’s definition in “The Ego and Its Own” to describe the immanent risks of collective acts of emancipation in support of a greater good, e. g. humanity, country, ethnicity, revolution or class – here: society, claiming that such abstractions will only exploit their supporters to further solidify its domineering existence. Anyone’s choice to not identify with society of any kind whatsoever (think also convenient decisions like shopping non-organic) would amount to an act of treason, which would be “met not only with the reprobation of those who believe in the abstraction, but with […] active persecution.”²⁶ He further compares the Public with the crowd, insofar as both know no boundaries, aim at continuous expansion and once expansion ends, begin disintegrating – either annihilating or winning over anyone who stands in the way. After showing how the economic system, namely capitalism fails to focus on the individual, despite its claims of doing so, Campagna concludes: “Certainly, no individual is ever in the position to tell another what is to be done. Thus, it is to myself that I address this question: what am I to do, in the face of the Public? If the Public is a measureless, insatiable mouth, eternally hunting through the deserts and cities of the world for ever more prey, I should tell myself to ‘live in hiding’ – laze biosas, as Epicurus succinctly put it. To hide oneself from the mouth of Public means, first of all, to shield one’s eyes from the eyes of the Public, not to return the gaze that the Public casts on one. Like Medusa, the Public’s stare is powerful and terrible enough to transform any individual into yet another lifeless rock, in the stone garden of Society.”²⁷
Therefore hiding implies to swear off the religion of sacrifice which sees representation as the only way to existence: “either the physical representation of certain types of politics, or the semiotics of a life lived in the name of something ‘bigger than oneself’.”²⁸ It does however not connote living in isolation, dodging conflicts with others or with society, there can even be collectives of people in hiding, but those defy any societal or public manifestation; if anything they are temporary, opportunistic alliances with only one intention: achieving the aims of their members, that have realized their mortality and do not pussyfoot around: “Whenever they speak, they describe a plan. Whenever they stop talking, they put it into practice. And whenever they act, they do not expect to be thanked: indeed, ‘the pleasure is all theirs’. They do not indulge in any form of altruism, not of hatred for others, but out of love for themselves. They are all they can ever have, and so they be-lieve it to be true for others. This is the true meaning, and the true practice of emancipation.”²⁹Is that the radical solution? I don’t know.
But whatever the true nature of emancipation might be I quite agree with Campagna on the inescapability of choice; we all have to decide individually , whether to live in hiding – with all its consequences – or to try and transform something collectively that may never permit to be changed because the level of complexity has long outrun our ability of comprehension.
Luckily, we still have one decisive advantage in this game of transformation and understanding insofar that we are able to be nonsensical, as Chus Martínez describes the term: “Nonsense is far from meaningless, far from incapable of engaging with one’s historical time or one’s society. In this sense, ‘nonsensical’ means being capable of suspending our conventional notions of time (in particular, historical time), to blur the question of origin, to be unoriginal and therefore free to be attentive, to be able to perceive the equivocal as a manifestation of the possible as a way of bypassing essentialism. In short, to be able to be more than a reflection of the world.”³⁰ Reverberating Rancière again in this manner we – and this we cannot be limited to artists – are permitted to disturb accepted forms of knowledge, by uncovering their inherent hierarchies and limits and help construct the “site of the production of a different knowledge (…) knowledge that is equally ambivalent, incommensurable, and singular.”³¹ If everything makes a difference, because difference is the conditio sine qua non for being at all, nonsense helps displace the ubiquitous questions of what and how much to the more important how? With this in mind, please excuse my nonsense.

Wiederabdruck
Der vorliegende Text ist die gekürzte Version des gleichnamigen Textes. Zuerst hier veröffentlicht: http://lost.jeffjaws.com.

1.) Petra Löffler interviewed by Geert Lovink at NECSUS, 2013 via www.necsus-ejms.org/the-aesthetics-of-dispersed-attention-an-interview-with-german-media-theorist-petra-loffler [12/27/2014]
2.) Roy Ascott, Telematic Embrace. Berkeley, 2003, p. 320.
3.) Donna Haraway, “A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist-Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century”, in: Idem, Simians, Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of Nature, New York 1991, p. 150.
4.) Pliny the Elder as cited in: Hans Ulrich Obrist, “UNREALIZED ART PROJECTS. The Potential of the Incomplete Idea”, in: Christian Gether, Utopia & Contemporary Art, Ostfildern 2012, p. 80.
5.) Claire Bishop, Artificial Hells: participatory art and the politics of spectatorship. London 2012, p. 27.
6.) Jacques Rancière, “Problems and Transformations in Critical Art”, in: Idem, Malaise dans l’esthétique, ed. and trans. Claire Bishop, London/Cambridge, MA, 2006, p. 83ff.
7.) Rachel Weiss, The Body of the Collective, in: Gether 2012, op. cit., p. 139 ff.
8.) Theaster Gates in: Cathy Lebowitz, “Sensibility of our Times Revisited”, in: Art in America, 2012 www.artinamericamagazine.com/news-features/magazine/sensibility-of-the-times-revisited [10/3/2014]
9.) Ibid.
10.) Metahaven, Black Transparency, s. l. 2013, vimeo.com/80041817; script via http://pastebin.com/UMNv2EXf [10/3/2014]
11.) Felix Stalder, Digital Solidarity. London, 2013, p. 16.
12.) Ned Rossiter, Soehnke Zehle, Privacy is Theft. On Anonymus Experiences, Infrastructural Politics and Accidental Encounters, s. l. 2013, http://nedrossiter.org/?p=374 [10/3/2014]
13.) Roy Ascott, Telematic Embrace: Visionary Theories of Art, Technology, and Consciousness. Berkeley a. o. 2007, p. 333.
14.) Stalder 2013, p. 24ff.
15.) Rossiter/Zehle 2013.
16.) Theaster Gates in Lebowitz 2012.
17.) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agency_(philosophy)
18.) Graham Harman, “The revenge of the surface: Heidegger, McLuhan, Greenberg”, Paletten 291/292, 2013, pp. 66–73, https://dar.aucegypt.edu/handle/10526/3640 [10/3/2014]
19.) James Birdle, Under the Shadow of the Drone, s. l. 2012, http://booktwo.org/notebook/drone-shadows/ [10/3/2014]
20.) Jacques Rancière, The Emancipated Spectator. London 2009, p. 10ff.
21.) Ibid.
22.) Ibid.
23.) Stalder 2013, p. 57.
24.) Ibid., p. 31ff.
25.) Jaron Lanier in: Maximilian Probst, „Nutzer, profitiert vom Netz!“, Die Zeit, 8, 2014, www.zeit.de/2014/08/jaron-lanier [10/3/2014]
26.) Federico Campagna, Hiding From The Gods: on Emancipation and the Public, Dec 7, 2012, http://th-rough.eu/writers/campagna-eng/hiding-gods-emancipation-and-public [10/3/2014]
27.) Ibid.
28.) Ibid.
29.) Ibid.
30.) Chus Martínez, “Unexpress the Expressible”, in: Gether 2012, op. cit., p. 11.
31.) Kathrin Busch, “Artistic Research and the Poetics of Knowledge”, AS – Visual Culture Quarterly, 179, 2007.