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venerdì 11 maggio 2018

Jessica Lack. Why Are We 'Artists'? 100 World Art Manifestos. Part Two




History of Art Literature Anthologies
Click here to see all the anthologies reviewed in the series

Jessica Lack
Why Are We 'Artists'? 100 World Art Manifestos

London, Penguin Modern Classics, 2017, 502 pages

Review by Francesco Mazzaferro. Part Two



Fig. 2) The catalogue of the Frankfurt am Main exhibition in 2017-2018


In the first part of this post, we saw how the anthology of Jessica Lack took into consideration the writings of those artists who advocated aesthetic criteria different and often opposed to those of Western art. To the development of what the author calls World Art contributed both artists living in Asia, Africa and Latin America as well as those from the ethnic minorities present in Europe and in the United States. Of Western art they rejected both the individualist conception and the attention to formal aspects. The author of Why Are We 'Artists? aimed to offer us a post-colonial reading of art, affirming the marginality of Western creations, in such a way that the end result would be a true global art. I have read the anthology with great interest and respect. At the same time I have asked myself a question: can we really talk about World Art - that is, about global art – if we exclude an important part of humankind and try to make of Europe and North America a new periphery of aesthetic creation? Indeed, the question I am raising is obviously political, in nature, exactly as are the theses of the anthology of Jessica Lack: at least in my opinion, artistic production is already now one of the most progressed features of the coexistence between peoples, and their dialogue is developing in terms of equal dignity. I feel contemporary art should be seen as a golden field to develop positively interconnections and globalism, not to foster exclusions (even if, in the case of this anthology, to the detriment of the economically dominant areas of the world).

It is not a matter of complaining about a crime of lese-majesty (in reality, the manifestos of Western aesthetic movements are present in other collections of texts), but rather of stressing that Jessica Lack’s interpretation of is one of many diverse readings of what happened in the last century. Certainly, it is an interesting interpretation, because it helps us to understand the motivations of many non-Western artists and is obviously in line with some geopolitical developments of our time (the will of the emerging extra-European powers to design a new geographical map of international politics). But are there other legitimate readings of global contemporary art?

In this regard, let me mention another anthology released in recent years: the collection of Kristine Stiles and Peter Selz entitled Theories and Documents of Contemporary Art: a Sourcebook of Artists' Writings (first published in 1996, and then in a revised and expanded version in 2012). This is, in fact, a fundamental text for anyone who wants to study the birth and development of a contemporary globalized art, based on equal interaction between all parts of the world. As Stiles and Selz testified, the writings of artists on art proved the existence of a continuous dialectical movement leading to innovation over time, but also witnessed more and more the interaction between all regions in the world in the field of art. The anthology of Stiles and Selz is however not completely different from that of Ms Lack, at least in the factual selection of texts. Comparing the index of the two anthologies, in fact, I have verified that 26 of the 100 manifestos of Ms Lack are also mentioned in the anthology of Stiles and Selz. Among these, there are also the texts by Barbara Jones-Hogu on the AFRI-COBRA movement and by Rasheed Araeen on the BLACK MANIFESTO, which I have already reviewed in the first part of this post .

Ultimately, at least in my view, several sources in Ms Lack’s anthology can also proof the contrary of what she claims, and the final assessment is more a question of intimate beliefs than of absolute trends. Therefore, let me resort to a historicist way of thinking that may certainly seem outdated to many, but that remains my way of reasoning. I would like to raise the following ultimate question: what global historical trend do the communication strategies of the artists of our time testify? Does the spirit of our time, our Zeitgeist, as revealed by the current anthologies of artistic literature, lead to the claim of a growing division between the regions of the planet (as Ms Lack claims) or to a blending of humanity (following Stiles and Selz)?

Returning to Why Are We 'Artists'?, the questions I have asked so far are especially relevant for interpreting what happened in Latin America. In fact, it is in that world that the two divergent tendencies towards union and separateness manifested themselves most acutely. Latin America, also linguistically, had a stronger link with European art than is the case of for instance Asia. It was also often linked, even for the personal stories of the artists, to Western art: Latin America welcomed European artists who fled from European totalitarianism in the thirties and forties, but was also the place of origin of many artists who took refuge in Europe and America in the seventies and eighties to escape military dictatorships. Notwithstanding these links, however, an important part of the Latin American artists tried to react to military repression (which obviously included the limitation of artists' freedom of expression) by specifically developing a different identity from, and even hostile to that of the avant-garde of Western art (for example against abstract expressionism, pop art, conceptualism), often perceived as conforming to the way of thinking and the market interests of Northern America, and therefore as the expression of liberticidal regimes. The theme of the aesthetic blending/clash between these worlds was at the centre of the recent exhibition “A tale of Two Words. Experimental Latin American Art in Dialogue with the MMK Collection 1940s-1980s” [79] recently held at the Museum of Modern Art (MMK) of Frankfurt am Main, in cooperation with the Museum of Modern Art of Buenos Aires (MACBA), where it will be exposed in summer 2018. It was a very large exhibition (more than five hundred pieces) jointly organized by the curators of the two German and Argentine museums, with the aim of providing a balanced image of differences and similarities between what occurred in South America, the United States and Europe. And so, on the same days when I was reading Jessica Lack’s anthology I visited the exhibition with that book in my hand, in search of confirmations and denials.


Jessica Lack. A brief history of art in Latin America in the twentieth century through thirteen manifestos

Just over ten percent of the 100 manifestos in Why Are We 'Artists'? come from the region of the world that speaks Spanish and Portuguese on the American continent. Here is the list of the thirteen texts:

1 - Arte Madí - Madí manifesto (1947)
2 - Grupo Ruptura – Ruptura (Breaking) Manifesto (1952)
3 - El Techo de la Ballena - For the reconstruction of magma (1961)
4 - Alberto Greco - Vivo-Dito (Living Finger) Manifesto (1963)
5 - Arte de los medios de Comunicación Masivos - Art of the Mass Media (1966)
6 - The Group of avant-garde artists - The Tucumán burns Manifesto (1968)
7 - Eduardo Costa - The Useful Art Manifesto (1969)
8 - Grupo Vértebra – The Vertebra Manifesto (1970)
9 - Artur Barrio - MUD / MEAT SEWER (1970)
10 - Grupo Antillano - Manifesto (1978)
11 - Colectivo de Acciones de Arte - Statement by the CADA Group (1982)
12 - Frente 3 de Fevereiro - Manifesto of the 3rd February Front (2004)
13 - Tania Bruguera and the International Movement of Migrants - Manifesto of migrants (2012)

The texts testify how Latin American artists lived in permanent tension between three diverse moods. They might be the original source of new trends destined to have an impact worldwide (think of the spread of so-called Madismfrom Madí Art – in Europe during the early fifties); they might feel part of an international antagonist art (we'll talk about the artistic provocations of Alberto Greco); finally, they might feel part of a region that, due to dictatorships, had remained at the margins of the global art community (think of the Declaration of the Cada group). The curators of the recent Frankfurt exhibition witnessed all these trends, but let the idea prevail that the art of Latin America was able to generate a creative dialogue with other regions of the world. Thus, for example, they showed Alberto Greco’s black paintings in the same room with Piero Manzoni’s achromic works and Yves Klein’s blue pictures, all symbols of the same research between conceptualism and art informel held at the end of the fifties. In short, I would like to read the passages of Jessica Lack's anthology on Latin America not as a testimony to a break between that world and ours, but rather as evidence that, despite all vicissitudes, just Latin America was the meeting point between the various sensibilities of our planet.


The Madí art manifesto (1947) [80]

The first Latin American manifesto included in the anthology of Jessica Lack is the work of the group "Movimiento, Abstracción, Dimensión, Invención" or - using the more acknowledged abbreviation - the Madí Group (abbreviation of Materialismo dialéctico - dialectical materialism). The text was most probably physically written by the Hungarian Gyula Kosice (1924-2016), a typical son of the Hapsburg Empire. Born in Moravia (now in Slovakia) as member of the Hungarian minority (with the name Gyula Fallik which he changed with the name of his hometown Košice), he emigrated as a child to Argentina, where he became Argentinian national. Together with Rhod Rothfuss (1920-1969), Carmelo Arden Quin (1913-2010), Martín Blaszko (1920-2011) and others, Kosice created an artistic movement inspired by concrete art, abstractionism, constructivism (all movements present in Europe from the 1930s), but also proposing quite original solutions (paintings ranged by irregular frames, moving statues, statues immersed in water, shapes made of industrial materials). In their views, Madí sculpture and painting had also to be flanked by Madí architecture, music, poetry, theatre, literature and dance. With the decision of Carmelo Arden Quin to move to Paris (also in controversy with the other members) the Madí style spread in Europe, with an important presence for instance also in Italy, starting with the establishment of a group of Madí artists in Genoa in 1948 (thanks to the Italian-Argentine Salvador Presta, 1925-), and continuing with the first Italian Madì art exhibition in Florence in 1955. At the same time - as often happens - the Madí group split up (also in Argentina) into a myriad of concrete art initiatives opposed to each other.

The movement – as Jessica Lack wrote “promoted their energetic vision of an art that was not only classless but also boundless in time and space. «Madí destroys the TABOO OF PAINTING by breaking with the traditional frame,» wrote Kosice. They considered abstract art to be the art of the people – the aesthetic expression of a new utopian society along the lines of communism. They were anti-fascist and denounced the nationalist government of President Juan Domingo Perón” [81]. The starting point of the manifesto - published by Kosice in the Arte Madí magazine in 1947 - was the collapse of the traditional bourgeois aesthetical logics in the industrialized countries: realism and naturalism were disappearing, replaced by abstraction, “essentially expressive and romantic” [82]. The avant-garde forms of the first part of the century, from cubism to surrealism (all in all, in fact, still inspired by naturalism) were also in a crisis. The first sign of rebirth had been the Concrete Art launched by Theo van Doesburg (1883-1931), with whom “began the great period of non-figurative art, in which the artist, using the element and its respective continuum, creates the work in all its purity” [83]. And yet Concrete Art - while had “an organic theory and disciplinarian practice” [84] – missed however the global dimension to be able to bend surrealist movements (i.e. to defeat “the triumph of instinctive impulses over reflection” [85])  Only with Madí art, therefore, it would be possible to gain the necessary global dimension and correct the errors of the art of the past.

The manifesto therefore differentiated between past art (characterized by “a scholastic, idealistic historicism, an irrational concept, an academic technique, a false, static and unilateral composition, a work lacking in essential utility, [and] a consciousness paralysed by insoluble contradictions; impervious to the permanent renovation in technique and style” [86]) and Madí art. “Madí stands against all this. It confirms man’s constant all absorbing desire to invent and construct objects within absolute eternal human values, in his struggle to construct a new classless society, which liberates energy, masters time and space in all senses, and dominates matter to the limit” [87].


The manifesto of the Ruptura (Breaking) Group (1952)

With the Ruptura Group (Breaking Group) we are moving to São Paulo, Brazil. The manifesto was compiled by the artist and theorist of experimentalism Waldemar Cordeiro (1925-1973), an Italian-born citizen who emigrated to Brazil in 1949 after his studies at the Academy of Fine Arts in Rome. With him, the manifesto was also signed by Geraldo de Barros (1923-1998), Lothar Charoux (1912-1987), Kazmer Féjer (1923-1989), Leopoldo Haar (1910-1954), Luis Sacilotto (1924-2003) and Anatol Władysław (1913- 2004). The text theorized a form of “pure abstraction, widely known as Concretism, which the group based on mathematical and rational principles” [88]. Jessica Lack wrote: “Cordeiro wanted to create a kind of Brazilian Bauhaus in São Paulo, where experimental art, technology, architecture and design could work together to support Brazil’s rapid industrialization” [89]. This functionalist vision and the rejection of all forms of subjectivity were a source of tension between the Ruptura Group and the so-called neo-concrete artists, who opened to a “a greater sensuality in abstract art” [90].

The text of the manifesto was very short (it took the form of a flyer). The signatories railed against the scientific principles of Renaissance naturalism, the Leonardesque logics, and the process by which the painter would reproduce the three-dimensional world in the two dimensions. As in the previous case of Madí, they also rejected the avant-gardes of the early decades of the twentieth century (Expressionists, Surrealist, primitivisms) because they were still associated with the ancient world. The new art had instead to be based on space-time, movement and matter [91]. Art is “a means of knowledge deducible from concepts, situating it above opinion and demanding, for its review, a previous knowledge” [92].


The manifesto of the collective Roof of the Whale (1961) [93]

We were here in Venezuela, where the anarchist artistic-literary collective El Techo de la Ballena, (The Roof of the Whale) disputed from extreme left-wing positions the central-moderate government running the country in those years. The Roof of the Whale organized extremely radical performances, such as Homenaje a la Necrofilia, i.e. "Homage to necrophilia" in 1962, where bodies of animals were quartered in front of the public, and at the same time paintings such as "Study for Executioner and Dog" by Carlos Contramaestre, 1933-1996 (I am not showing it in order not to hurt readers' sensitivity). The poem “For the Restitution of Magma” was the collective fruit of the group, a programmatic text which sang the merits of informal art.

It is necessary to reconstruct magma 
the boiling matter
the luxury of lava
to place a piece of fabric at the foot of a volcano
to restore the world
the luxury of lava
to show the matter is more lucid than colour
in this way the amorphous cuts away at the superfluous that prevents reality from transcending
it overcomes the immediacy of matter as a means of expression
making it
not an instrument of implementation
but an active medium that explodes
impact
matter transcends itself
matter transcends itself
textures tremble
rhythms draw vertigo
violence presides over the act of creation
and leaves evidence of what is
magma must be restored in its decline …
informalism returns it to the essence of creation activity
reestabilishes categories and relationships that science has already foreseen
informalism also has its own fungus
the beat of arbitrary matter that can be seen even by the most incredulous eyes
the possibility of creation is as evident and real as the earth and rock that shape mountains
because it is necessary to restore magma
the boiling matter
adam’s [sic] prosthesis
[94]


The Vivo-dito (Living Finger) Manifesto by Alberto Greco (1963) [95]

With Alberto Greco (1931-1965) we are coming across with one of the forerunners of the intersection between informal painting (with his 1960 black paintings, already mentioned for their affinities with Klein and Manzoni) and conceptual art in Argentina. However, Greco had made himself known - also in Europe - above all for his performances, which were also veritable acts of provocation. After a series of these, in 1963, Greco was even expelled from Italy! On June 16, 1962 he threw some rats painted in blue and silver in the crowd, when the President of the Republic Antonio Segni was inaugurating the Venice Biennale, claiming to protest against the art hosted at the exhibition. On that occasion he gave false personal details (claiming he was the Venezuelan painter Francisco Valero La Cruz [96]). He then dressed up as a nun, making himself known in Rome on the occasion of the opening of the Second Vatican Council. Then he filled Rome’s city centre with the writing “Painting is over. Long life to the Living Finger art”. Finally, during the happening Christ 63 [97], an avant-garde performance written by the actor and screenwriter Carmelo Bene (1937-2002) and presented in the latter’s Theatre Laboratory, he urinated from the stage on the Argentine ambassador and wife (they had come specially to see him), causing the arrival of the police, the permanent closure of the theatre and the conviction of Bene to eight suspended months in prison.

The manifesto (whose full title, in an broken Italian, was Manifesto Dito dell'Arte Vivo) - as explained by Jessica Lack - was first published in Genoa in 1962 and then revised and republished in Piedralaves, Spain, in 1963. Greco wrote : “Vivo-Dito art is the adventure of the real, the urgent document, the direct and total contact with things, places, people, creating situations, creating the unexpected. It means showing and encountering the object in its own place. Totally in accord with cinema, reportage, and literature as a living document. Reality without touch ups or artistic transformation. Today I am more interested in anyone at all recounting his life on the street or in a streetcar than in any polished, technical account by a writer. That is why I believe in painting without painters and in literature without writers. This explains why, in recent years, the visual arts have consciously found recourse in chance. It is a way of discovering the other side of reason” [98].

The expression Vivo-Dito (Living Finger) indicated the creative act, since the painter renounced painting and decided to use his finger to indicate aspects of the reality he was observing, defining it as art. Since the fifties, Greco distributed leaflets or hung posters in Buenos Aires to praise his own performances, then he let photograph himself while showing signboards praising his art, finally he blocked people in the street and drew circles with chalk around them.

All this may seem simply the work of a wild artist but eventually had an important impact both on the spread of performance art beyond the United States, where it was born in the late fifties, and on the identification of the ephemeral nature of art. Greco concluded: “A work has meaning as long as it is made as a total adventure, without knowing what is going to happen. Once it’s finished, it doesn’t matter anymore, it has become a corpse. So let it rest in peace. The contemporary artist has lost his sense of eternity” [99].

The manifesto Art of Mass Media (1966) [100]

The three Argentine conceptual artists Eduardo Costa (1940-), Roberto Jacoby (1944-) and Raúl Escari (1944-) created the group Arte del los Medios de Comunicación Masivos (Art of Mass Media) in 1966. The July manifesto of that year - inspired by the theories of the Argentine Marxist intellectual Oscar Masotta (1930-1979) and the Canadian sociologist Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980) as well as the Korean media artist Nam June Paik (1932-2006) - intended to propose to make art through the media. As Jessica Lack explains, “the group sent out a press release describing a collective happening in which a number of distinguished people participated. The event was duly recorded in the media, only for it to be revealed later that the happening had never taken place, giving rise to various discussions in the press as to whether it was intended as a sociological experiment, a conceptual artwork or a literary joke” [101]. It was the “Happening for a dead boar”: with the help of some personalities known to the public, the signatories created written and photographic documentation on a performance that in reality had never been held, but which was documented in many prominent Argentinian newspapers and tabloids.

In a civilization dominated by the mass media – this was how the manifesto started – the public has no direct contact with cultural events, only with information about them in the media. The mass media’s audiences do not view an art exhibition, nor do they witness a happening or attend a soccer game; instead, they receive reports of these spectacles in news broadcasts. Thus, real artistic events lose their importance because they reach only a very few people due to a lack of dissemination” [102]. “Today the work of art is the product of a process that begins with the (traditional) making of the work and goes on until it becomes material transmitted by the mass media. Now we are proposing a ‘work of art’ in which the moment of the making disappears. Hence, the work becomes a commentary on the fact that it actually is a pretext to launch the process of information” [103].


The Tucumán Burns manifesto (1968) [104]

In the sixties, Argentine politics was characterized by a succession of unproductive elections and army coups. From 1966 to 1973, power was managed by a coalition of militaries and politicians under the name of "Revolución Argentina", with the external support of the United States and a clear anti-Communist program. The Artistas de vanguardia group, made up of about thirty young artists, was created in 1968; the members aimed to reject the artistic avant-garde experiments of previous years (which they considered vacuous) and instead directed art in the sense of political opposition. Roberto Janocby, one of the three signatories of the already-mentioned manifesto of the Art of the mass media, also participated in the initiative. As Jessica Lack wrote, “the group began by launching a project to investigate and protest against appalling living and working conditions in the province of Tucumán in north-west Argentina, where the government’s economic policy had recently led to the forced closure of the region’s large state-owned sugar mills, leaving many inhabitants destitute and starving. They initiated their campaign by fly-posting the major cities of Rosario and Santa Fe with the mysterious words ‘Tucumán arde’ (Tucumán is burning). Than they announced to the press the staging of the First Avant-Garde Art Biennial (Primera Bienal de Arte de Vanguardia) in Rosario, where they presented audio, photographic and documentary evidence of the plight of Tucumán inhabitants” [105].

In the manifesto one can read: “The exquisite and aestheticizing atmosphere of the false avant-garde experiences produced at the institutions of official culture provided the backdrop for these events, which gradually began to shape a new attitude that would postulate the artistic endeavour as a positive and real action whose aspiration should be to have a modifying effect on the milieu that engendered it. (…) The acknowledgment of this new understanding led a group of artists to formulate aesthetic creation as an active and collective action, thus destroying the bourgeois myth of the artist’s individuality as well as the presumably passive nature of the artwork. Hence, deliberate aggression became the form of the new art” [106]. As to the initiative “Tucumán burns”, it was about creating what the signatories called, with a neologism, a “overinformational circuit” [107], to deny the value of information spread on official media.


The Useful Art Manifesto by Eduardo Costa (1969) [108]

Another of the signatories of the manifesto of the Art of the Mass Media of 1966, or Eduardo Costa, launched in 1969 an appeal from New York, where he lived between 1966 and 1971 to escape the military government, and called for an art pursuing goals of immediate usefulness. Costa operated within the Street Works performances, organized by the Architectural League of New York. The manifesto explains that Costa, at its own expense, bought and replaced a series of badly-worn road signs and whitewashed a subway station. “These art works were intended to attack the myth of the lack of utility of the arts, while being in themselves a modest contribution to the improvement of city living conditions” [109].


The Vertebra Group Manifesto (1970) [110]

With the Vértebra (Vertebra) Group we move to Guatemala, where the three painters Roberto Cabrera (1939-2014), Marco Augusto Quiroa (1937-2004) and Elmar René Rojas (1942-2018 published a text on art entitled "Vertebra Manifesto" in the monthly magazine Alero, in an almost full atmosphere of civil war. This was undoubtedly a militant manifesto against the military dictatorship. While the three authors defined the manifesto as “deeply embedded in the century of military hells and of the atomic pandemic” [111], I would personally consider that the text also revealed an intense poetry. As Jessica Lack wrote, “the group’s title alluded to their desire to create an aesthetic spine running through the countries of Central America, culturally uniting the artists of Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Honduras e Costa Rica. [Signatories] promoted collage and a technique  called ‘matter painting’, in which paint was mixed with sand, shells and mud to create texture” [112]. Thus, if from an iconographic point of view Vértebra artists remained – as we will see – in the field of figurative art, from the angle of techniques it seems obvious to me that they instead produced sort of a Central American version of the matter painting tendencies in informal art, already present in the Hispanic world (as in the rest of Europe) since the late forties.

The three authors claimed to recognize themselves in a new humanism, and to find inspiration both in “the agitated and terrible transcendentalism of the gothic world” [113] as well as “in the labyrinth of contemporary torment” [114]. What derived from it was twofold: “an alchemy of cathartic evolution” and “a mystical evocation of our inner lives, unveiling the intensity of an age and an environment. What we are, where we are, we go” [115].

The manifesto opposed any abstract art. It must be recalled that like in Central America, in many other regions of the world the battle between abstractionists and figurative coincided in those years with the ideological opposition between the advocates of the US pattern and those who preached alternative models. “Our art aspires to rise above all the conformist game-playing and the siren calls of global artistic purism. Above the falsified abstracting expansion as much as it is above crass traditionalism. We place ourselves on the path of our genetic make-up, faithful to an expression that connects it to the setting. Our humanly rooted language springs from the reality that surrounds us. We are unconcerned – with good reason – by the death rattle of the mechanical and egotistical art repeated in New York or London. We acknowledge and value the intrinsic quality of its roots, but we are interested in the flipside: the face that reveals the integrity of man” [116]. 


The MUD / MEAT SEWER Manifesto (1970) [117]

The Portuguese Artur Barrio (1945-) was raised as an artist in Brazil in the years of military dictatorship, but then came back to Europe after the 1974 Carnation Revolution that brought Portugal back to democracy. With his text, we come across another expression of artistic radicalism of Latin America, which sought to shake public opinion from torpor with striking actions. Jessica Lack wrote: “Barrio advocated anti-art as a survival strategy, performing actions and situations in the street, rather than exhibiting in a gallery, in order to circumvent strict governmental controls” [118]. Its aesthetics was based on spreading decomposing materials, obviously considered repellent, in the sidewalks of the streets of Brazilian cities, and then photographing the shocked reaction of passers-by.

What I look for is contact with reality in its totality, everything that is rejected, everything that is set aside because of its contentious character. A contesting which encloses a radical reality, because this reality exists, despite being dissimulated through symbols” [119]. Barrio described his physical output (the waste of perishable materials) as not belonging to art, but to reality. He renounced to be considered as an artist, but instead attributed that role to passers-by, who by their horrified reaction became true creators.


The Manifesto of the Antillean Group (1978) [120]

The Antillean Group was created in Cuba by the sculptor Rafael Queneditt Morales (1942-2016) and brought together around fifteen black Cuban artists, writers and musicians who intended to recover their African origins and at the same time express their solidarity with the other artists of the Antilles. They therefore recovered the contents of the black art manifestos in the Caribbean, already issued in the thirties, and linked themselves at the same time to the Pan-African concepts of art present in the seventies. Jessica Lack wrote: “The works created by the group’s members possessed no single distinct, defining style. Instead, they displayed a wide variety of African aesthetic influences, from folk art to religious symbolism, and were characterized by a strong underlying desire to represent the whole of Antillean culture, not just its Hispanic heritage” [121] 

The manifesto reads: “Art and literature are the most refined and profound representations of the social conditions and developments of people. Through such manifestations cultural groups project their personality fully and reaffirm their nationality. Imperialism understands this phenomenon, which accounts for its incessant efforts to culturally penetrate other people, with the ultimate goal of depersonalization and denationalization” [122]. The Cuban revolution – the manifesto continued - instead created the conditions to free the artists and make them aware of their ethnic origins. These statements, in reality, were in contrast with the official position of the regime, which condemned any ethnic-African reference as primitive and counter-revolutionary, not being interested in recognising separate identities within the Cuban people, which was instead exalted as whole united in support of Fidel Castro’s politics.

For the group, the African origin was instead the focus of identity and art production. “Today … we see a growing number of Cuban painters and sculptors who are motivated simply by their profound condition as Cubans and an awareness of their ethnic origins who consciously or unconsciously are taking the only path possible toward a common identity” [123]. In her introduction to the document, Jessica Lack wrote that the group's echo in Cuba remained limited, leading to its dissolution in 1983. Even Cuban dissident art (the so-called "new Cuban art") manifested itself since the eighties as an attempt to open up towards the art of the West, thus leaving the Antillean Group isolated, as the only manifestation of an ethnic feeling. The Antillean Group has only recently been rediscovered in a series of traveling exhibitions across Cuba and the United States between 2013 and 2016 (http://www.queloides-exhibit.com/grupo-antillano/).


Colectivo de Acciones de Arte – Statement by the CADA group (1982) [124]

CADA means Colectivo de Acciones de Arte (Collective of Art Action). It encompassed five dissident artists living in Pinochet's Chile, challenging military repression with performance and direct action: Fernando Balcells (1950-), Juan Castillo (1952-), Diamela Eltit ( 1947-), Lotty Rosenfeld (1943-) and Raúl Zurita (1950-). CADA was created in 1979, two years after the 1977 coup; their manifesto was published in 1982 by the magazine Ruptura; their No+ action was repeated continuously between 1983 and 1984. Jessica Lack wrote: “The group clandestinely covered the walls of Santiago with the sign ‘NO+’, tacitly inviting the public to voice their protests by complementing the phrase: ‘NO+Murders’, ‘NO+Torture’, ‘NO+Guns’ and so on. The work’s impact made ‘No mas[No more] a potent anti-Pinochet slogan which continued to be used until the collapse of the dictator’s regime in 1990” [125]. Of the five members, the most famous is today Lotty Rosenfeld, represented at the Frankfurt exhibition with the documentation on her actions in Santiago, where she intervened on road signs as a form of provocation that intended to force passers-by to reflect critically on reality.

While Rosenfeld and Castillo were two artists, the other members were a sociologist (Balcells), a poet (Zurita) and a writer (Eltit). The text was thus written in an abstract language, but raised a series of aesthetic problems, proclaiming that the inadequacy of Latin American art had become “a matter of life or death” [126]. Firstly, the CADA group wondered how the “concept of creativity” [127] could and had to be affirmed “in a context such as ours” [128] (the artists did not hesitate to talk about “dependency, imperialism, authoritarian regimes” [129]), requiring “specificity in reference to artistic products” [130]. Then the signatories dwelled on the problem of Latin American cultural delay: “Historically marginalized from international art movements and their financial and distribution networks, any form of expression born in these regions, even if it refers to the same international terminology and takes shelter under the same ideas of art defined by the international hubs of culture, raises questions about its own nature, about its methods and about its objectives. The answers to these questions go beyond the field of semiological axiomatics, raising instead the issue of its overall relationship to the struggles and the developments in our socialized reality” [131]. 

One of the fundamental concepts of the manifesto was that while “this very concept of art … in developed capitalist countries, allows us to distinguish between activities such as politics, science, art or religion, and thus to define specific objectives, individual strategies” [132], this was not possible in Chile (after all, every group of revolutionary art always lived in the romantic myth of total art, made necessary by the extraordinary nature of the conditions of its time). Furthermore, marginality with respect to international art could become a condition of freedom: “To work in that marginal space implies a degree of belonging that is not necessarily fixed and that, instead, establishes itself as a field of battle, as an arena of confrontation in which the concepts of art and life complement and tear each other apart” [133]. Only those who were exposed - even physically - to a life or death risk could in fact conceive total art differently from what Duchamp did, wrongly identifying every object of daily use as art.

On the other hand, the experiences of the Chilean situation were best fitting with “body art, landscape art, or performance art” [134]. Indeed, these manifestations had been relevant in Latin America even before they were defined as artistic expressions in the West, “because of the degree of daily familiarity with these living forms: hungry bodies, vast infertile plains, fallow fields” [135]. Therefore, what in the West had developed as an extemporaneous art, in Chile was instead part of the experience of life: “the precarious and painful, as well as (…) the barrenness of concrete lives” [136]. CADA therefore set itself the goal not only of “to shift the limits of our reality” [137], but “also to criticize and revise from a global perspective what the avant-garde signifies” [138].

The result was a critique of the self-referential nature of art. Every action must be about “establishing a practise that operates within the parameters of our own history” [139] and therefore should be a political act [140]. At the same time, performance had a deeper meaning than a simple event. On the one hand, in fact, action was an existential moment: as an actor of artistic actions, the artist “operates as both a summation and sublimation, the black and white of collective circuits. The artistic creator is both scenery and scene; the hunger to reproduce reality is identical to the hunger for food, or at least they share the same nature. The creator’s body is, in the final instance, a black hole in which all the misgivings about meaning converge and where theory and practice become synonymous. It is that bipolarity of creation and creator that precedes the formalization of artistic currents” [141]. On the other hand, action was a moment of vindication for a better future: “Similarly, the expectation, whether catastrophic or hopeful, of a change in the totality of social relations, mirrors its own material base, and becomes a characteristic trait of the way in which our history operates. Constantly subjected to the comings and goings of history (from right-wing dictatorships to socialists experiences), that expectation reinforces the historical nature underpinning creative practices; the stage is not only the present, but also a certain dimension of the future, that manifests itself both in faith (in the Christian sense of the word) and in political positions – a permanently denied, altered, remade future, whose effects are visible in the challenging of the past (in socialist agendas) and the quest for traces of that past in models of the future (typical of authoritarian governments); in any case it affirms an understanding torn from the present. It is precisely the bringing back to the present of future possibilities that defines the most consequential artistic practices. Therein lies the model of action. That model is action art” [142].

Manifesto of the 3rd February Front [143]

The group 3rd February (2004) operated in Brazil to protest against police racism. Multidisciplinary artists set it up to protest against many tragic episodes which saw police repeatedly killing young black Brazilians in manifestly unjustified situations. The artists moved to action after the murdering of a university student on 3 February 2004 during what was supposed to be a simple check of identity documents. The prototype of the members of the group was the performance art of the aforementioned Artur Barrio, the artist distributing disgusting materials in the streets of Brazilian cities. However, 3rd February Front members changed the object of artistic creation. In 2007 the group produced, among other things, a video, a record and a book, all titled Zumbi Somos Nos: Cartografía del Racismo para la Juventud Urbana (We are Zumbi: Mapping of Racism among Urban Youth). The title was inspired by the vicissitudes of Zumbi dos Palmares (1655-1695), a guerrilla who led the resistance of black slaves within an independent – and territorially very large - political community in Brazil, for many decades managing to escape the Portuguese control.

The manifesto called into question the criteria by which the São Paulo police carried out its investigations, detected and controlled suspected individuals and recurred to violence, considering the action of the police forces as dictated by racism. The members of 3rd February Front saw all these aspects as manifestations of a racist culture which was at risk of contaminating the country already in schools. The manifesto therefore raised into question one of the most widespread foundations of the image that Brazilians have of them: that in Brazil racism does not exist: “Thus Brazil has created one of the cruellest and most efficient racial discrimination mechanisms, as the system excludes any possibility of questioning the existence of racism in Brazilian society” [144].


The Manifesto of Migrants (2011) [145]

We have already spoken about the Cuban artist Tania Bruguera (1968-) in the first part of this post about her 2012 Manifesto for the Rights of Artists, read at the UN to protest against repression and censorship. Here instead we want to refer to the manifesto of the International Movement of Migrants, which she promoted in 2011 together with the Queens Museum of New York, where she was a resident artist (thus also living - albeit in a privileged way - the reality of migration from a Latin country American in the United States). With Bruguera, who had often been subjected in Cuba to measures restricting freedom for her irreverent actions towards power, the cause of internal dissent against the Castro regime was therefore combined with the universal reasons for human rights, in a world where the movement of people was seen as a factor that made “international connectivity” [146] possible within the whole humanity. Immigration, the manifesto wrote, also assures that populations who received migrants can better organise proximity services (like for instance through caregivers), thereby improving their quality of life. From an artistic point of view, the public reading of the manifesto (in the first part we saw a photo of an action in New York, below we are showing the International Week of Performance Art in Venice in 2014) became the artistic fact itself.

End of Part Two
Go to Part Three 


NOTES

[79] A Tale of Two Worlds. Experimental Latin American Art in Dialogue with the MMK Collection, 1940s-1980s, curated by Klaus Görner, Victoria Noorthoorn, Javier Villa, MMK Museum für Moderne Kunst, Frankfurt am Main 25/11/2017 – 2/4/2018; Museo de Arte Moderno de Buenos Aires 7/7/2018 – 14/10/2018, Bielefeld, Kerber Verlag, 2018, 495 pages.

[80] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? 100 World Art Manifestos, London, Penguin Modern Classics, 2017, 501 pages. Quotation at pp. 38-41.

[81] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 38.

[82] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 39.

[83] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 39-40.

[84] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 40.

[85] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 40.

[86] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 40.

[87] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 40.

[88] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 54.

[89] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 54.

[90] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 54.

[91] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 55.

[92] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 55.

[93] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 64-65.

[94] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 64-65.

[95] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 78-80.

[96] Corriere d’Informazione, Live rats on [President] Segni’s feet while visiting the Biennale, Saturday-Sunday, June 16-17, 1962.

[97] See: https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cristo_%2763#cite_note-ReferenceA-6.

[98] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 78-79.

[99] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 79.

[100] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 99-101.

[101] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 99.

[102] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 100.

[103] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 101.

[104] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 113-118.

[105] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 113.

[106] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 114.

[107] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 116.

[108] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 119-120.

[109] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 120.

[110] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 150-153.

[111] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 151.

[112] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 150.

[113] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 151.

[114] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 151.

[115] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 151.

[116] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 152.

[117] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 154-155.

[118] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 154.

[119] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 154.

[120] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 320-323.

[121] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 320.

[122] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 321.

[123] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 322.

[124] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 343-351.

[125] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 343.

[126] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[127] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[128] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[129] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[130] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[131] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[132] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 344.

[133] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 345.

[134] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 345.

[135] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 345.

[136] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 345.

[137] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 345.

[138] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 345.

[139] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 346.

[140] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 346.

[141] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 346.

[142] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 346-347.

[143] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 435-435.

[144] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 435.

[145] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, pp. 458-460.

[146] Lack, Jessica - Why Are We 'Artists'? (quoted) …, p. 459.




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