Project 7 ½ presents the Critical Reading project involving activists, architects, artists, curators, and educators from Korea, Indonesia, Denmark, and the UK. In the context of the project, the idea of Critical Reading relates to our attempts to look at the various elements that make up our present from different perspectives. Through their empirical knowledge, all the participants will reflect on how the changing socio-economic and environmental situations in their regions have been reflected in art activities in recent decades. By this process, we will experience differences in artistic practices within different historical, cultural, and social contexts of Korea, Indonesia, and Britain, which will be the starting point of another connection. Changes in the subjective dimensions refer to changes in our consciousness and values. Discussions are held online to gather and understand various points of view and understand our solidarity for change and what can lead to it.
Arie Syarifuddin, Clare Twomey, Diyah Wara Restiyati, Eko Prawoto, Ginggi Syar Hasyim, Gustaff Harriman Iskandar, Marco Kusumawijaya, Matthias Kispert, Nia Gautama, Phoebe Cummings, Ramalis Sobandi, Shin-Koo Woo, Sunyoung Oh, Tessa Peters, Yeongran Suh
Ceramic Research Center, Common Room, Jatiwangi Art Factory, Kecapi Batara, Tanas Nusa Foundation
Organized by Project 7 ½
Supported by Korea Arts Council
Now, Here: Those Who Give Me Strength Have No Power
Sunyoung Oh
“In 2020, thirteen parcel delivery workers have died as of October 24. Despite a massive increase in parcel demand since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in March 2020, the labor structure has not changed, which has resulted in greater corporate profits.”[1][2]
Reports of parcel worker deaths appear frequently on the Korean news. Still, the country’s parcel delivery system is praised as truly remarkable. Hearing such news, it occurs to me that one person’s convenience represents sacrifice and absurdity for someone else. In an anthropocentric society, where the merciless destruction of the environment is rationalized as an “unavoidable” part of improving human lives, it is quite suggestive to consider that when corporations (private individuals) pursue human convenience and grow their (private) profits, the price is paid in human life and the life of the Earth on which we walk, breathe and live. Ultimately, humans themselves are simultaneously pursuing the death of nature and of humanity.
Actually, hearing news like this and having lived with the COVID-19 pandemic for close to a year now, I came to wonder again how unimportant art is in our lives and whether people are chasing an illusion. In life or death crises, what value, what use is there in art? Yet the reason I cannot abandon art is that I know it can be used in eminently valuable ways and because I am determined to make good use of my affection for art.
In a neoliberal society, it is possible to understand the true structure of the art world in terms of the company-worker relationship only if we use a perfectly rational economic logic to reset the aesthetic value-creating structure of the brain. This is because the art world is tangled in a structure unique to itself, and a complicated array of interests is at work. Fundamentally, even if artists are paid less than delivery workers – and in fact this is often true – the lives of artists are not thought of as pitiful or as harsh as those of the workers. Why might this be? It may seem that there is a barrier between the lives of artists and workers like that between the worlds of fact and fiction, but if we all face the same reality then this cannot be true.
The leaders of most organizations in the art world are very strict about hierarchical relationships and issues of status, and can be seen talking down to their colleagues and unhesitatingly assigning them personal errands and tasks (though this is by no means limited to the sphere of art). They commonly believe that they take part in a culture reserved only for the elite and that they are given opportunities to do things no one else can do. Such thoughts are revealed in the disrespectful attitudes they adopt and the things they say to their staff. Furthermore, while selling expensive works of art worth tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars, they pay their staff a salary worth less than one of their designer bags, and even that amount they regard as excessive. I am reminded of a leading figure in Korea’s artistic circles saying at a private dinner that art is an expensive hobby. In that case, it is a hobby his staff are all helping to sustain.
A famous artist is teaching students full-time at a university and gives her students the opportunity to work in her studio. She says this is to give them a chance to earn some spending money while at the same time learning how artists work. An admirable teacher indeed! She gives her word of course that she will pay the promised wage. Clearly, the lucky students think, this is an opportunity not just for anyone, and they will be the envy of many other students. Yet endless are the stories of students complaining that they were not paid for their work. From time to time, there are also students who get a shock from the artist’s ill temper and rude manner. The problem is not that the famous artist is struggling to make a living. She has a regular job and a name known widely in the international art scene, so she is invited to many overseas exhibitions, and she has a studio able to produce works in factory-like quantities. And it is to produce works like a factory – that is, to save on labor costs – that she extends such kindnesses to these talented students. To say that an artist in this situation struggles to pay her working university students would be hard for anyone to understand.
Korean society is Confucian and hierarchical, and it has authoritarian tendencies. Therefore, if the student (employee) raises these issues or expresses dissatisfaction with the work environment to the teacher (boss) – though there are differences of degree – one is regarded as left-wing or likened to a member of a labor union. I hope that not everyone is like this, but still, in our society, there are people whose ways of thinking are outdated and regressive, and the charge of sounding like a labor union member is used as a way to disparage staff who express dissatisfaction. In my view, it can no longer be called a “vestige” of history but a kind of arrogance rooted in human nature.
Fortunately, there are curators who do receive fair pay for their work at galleries and museums run by local administrations and the central government. However, compared to curators working independently or for private organizations, their pay and benefits are less, even when accounting for the lesser demands of the job. Whatever the reasons, personnel at art-related organizations are paid a salary to perform tasks ranging from the administration of the organization to the planning and holding of exhibitions. This is the reason they receive a salary from an organization. In that case, for whom and for what purpose is the work they do? Such considerations are indispensable to contemporary art, but as they arise and become blurred once again, our understanding of them seems to regress. When there are growing issues that are more serious and complicated than art, such as the COVID-19 pandemic, it is an art that atrophies. Because art can never be more important than human life, this is understandable, but it is also unfortunate.
Contemporary art asks why and how the subject, the other, space and time exist, are viewed, and are recreated; and it continuously prompts us to consider our very thought processes regarding the media that are used. The art gallery is a space that exists to make this possible. But aside from a small minority of experts, for some patrons, museums and galleries of contemporary art exist as places for one to show other people that one appreciates this and even that kind of work. They can be used for pretending to look at art and can be found in the background of posts on social media. People come to the art museum to view each other. Can we justify budgets worth tens and hundreds of thousands of dollars to be spent on exhibitions for patrons like these? Of course, it would be a waste to spend so much money on those few experts, too.
I don’t actually know how the Korean contemporary art scene is viewed overseas. For one thing, it’s hard for me to get a view of Korean contemporary art from the perspective of the other. This is because when I ask someone on the outside about this, rather than getting a general impression or opinion about the field as a whole, I get only a list of individual Korean artists’ names. This is the case most of the time. And this is because there is a fixed set of Korean artists who get introduced overseas. The reason these particular artists are regulars at the overseas exhibitions is that there is a fixed set of places foreign curators pass through when they visit Korea, and these are the artists who appear every time. Each Korean artist is doing battle with the other. Of course, there are small solidarities here and there, but rather than sharing artistic aims, their main goals are political. The monopolistic behavior of a minority of them, in fact, is hindering the equal development of everyone. The achievements of individual Korean artists are remarkable, but there are too many obstacles to reaching the wider world. Among those obstacles is the particular minority of curators monopolizing Korean contemporary art and the artists they have managed to hem in. Considering this, it is impossible to obtain a general understanding or definition of Korean contemporary art based merely on outward appearances.
Like Korea, Indonesia also has a set of regulars who appear often at overseas exhibitions. And we know how tightly knit the power structure is within this group. Asid e from the for-profit businesses, the Indonesian art scene is characterized more by collective activity than by individual activity. (Here it is worth considering why artistic projects for commercial gain deal primarily with individual and not collective work.) The collaborative work of Indonesian artists is well known internationally. It leads to a steady stream of sustainable two-way exchanges outside Indonesia, and in particular, with Europe. If Korea’s exchanges with the UK are officially based more on the clarity of contracts going back and forth than on personal ties, those with Indonesia are human relationships based on accumulated mutual trust built through an individual acquaintance. This attitude of relationship is also revealed in the Indonesian contemporary art world. Indonesia’s most prominent art collective, Ruangrupa, has gained interest among artists around the world through its selection to curate Kassel Documenta 2022. Many people will have wondered when they saw the collective a few months ago on Documenta’s list of participants. This is because it was not simply a list of artists whose names people are likely to know. Ruangrupa over time has selected a group of artists with whom they have built close ties. In the words of Ade Darmawan, they wanted to share the opportunity with the artists who had worked with them. This is seen in the exhibition theme Lumbung, where Ruangrumpa, together with the participating artists, gather grain for storage and then try to share with them this grain they have accumulated. I personally hope they can gather enough grain that they can share it for a long time. It is impossible to know, however, whether this method of sharing is “desirable” or “rational.” Ultimately, they intend to share with people connected to them by blood or regional ties, which is clearly different from the way the artistic director selects participating artists from cities around the world, surveying the whole of the art world in the planning not of a local feast but of a large-scale international contemporary art exhibition. They show a conservative attitude that distinguishes Ruangrupa’s side while presenting a great idea for sharing it. No one can say, however, that anyone would have differed with their approach in the past. Who may have the grain is determined according to who stores it. (The exhibition is still in the preparatory stage, so I look forward to learning something new through its message.) Ruangrupa began with the artistic activities of a few friends centered on Ade Dalmawan. With time, Ruangrupa would have frequent overseas exhibitions, and as more people gathered there, the place became a shared home. A few lived there because they had nowhere else to go – everyone’s reason was different. But that is how the group of artists who ended up there became the artists’ collective Ruangrupa. They say there was no other requirement to become a Ruangrupa artist. As one spent a longer and longer time together with them, one gained acceptance within the collective, though some were unable to do this and did not make it. There would have been a maze of tensions within the group, which is something we can expect to continue.[3] Because Ade Dalmawan attended the Rijksakademie, he is linked to the art scene in Europe and was well versed in the ‘alternative spaces’ of the 1990s. To Indonesian artists, his activities with Ruangrupa from the early 2000s until now serve as a calling card. Five years after Ruangrupa began was the start of Jatiwangi Art Factory. At the home of Arief Yudi’s mother, it began as a space giving young people food to eat and a place to sleep and was where they found work together. Numerous artists from overseas have spent the past 15 years visiting and spending time with Jatiwangi Art Factory. The relationship they have feels as warm as a visit to a relative who lives far away. Notably, the individual members of JaF do not qualify as professional artists in the way we define them. But they are an artist collective.
Like Korea, rather than the pursuit of individual esteem, what matters is relationships, such as family, affiliation and region. And this is not something that easily yields a rational explanation. This is because the elements of this question are formed by the mechanisms of a powerful superstructure accompanied by religious and subjective prejudices and emotions and false consciousness. Usually, individuals live as constituents of a nationalist or ethnic form of collectivism or a capitalist, individualistic form of collectivism. Individuals in the two groups are at odds in terms of “pre-modern: modern,” “conservative: progress,” and “old generation: new generation,” maintaining their common ground as the building blocks of the group. Individualism is still a precious task. Just as collective selfishness can overlook the value of human beings’ existence, as individual selfishness puts individuals at the center of life, the importance of relationships can be ignored under the illusion that I only need to live well. It should be remembered that respecting an individual’s life as a human being should not degenerate into “capitalist individuals” or “personal liberty,” the fallacy of capitalism.
In the UK, there are a great many contemporary artists who are heavily influenced by the international art scene. The inevitable development of British modern art has been driven in large part by corporate patrons and the influential support of collectors, but the support of the British government has also promoted the growth of the country’s public arts and art industry. In my view, the extent of its development corresponds to the vitality of Britain’s system of contemporary art and the activities of its contemporary artists. In the course of our discussions here, I look forward to learning more about this through the writings of Matthias Kispert.
Britain has made a lot of progress relative to Korea and Indonesia in many cultural aspects, including museum history, art museum management, the history of modern art collections, government support for artists, and corporate art patronage activities. I came to understand this aspect of British society through movies. In The Full Monty (1997), Billy Elliot (2000), I am Daniel Blake (2016) and Sorry We Missed You (2019), one sees that while the cultural and social background of each country is different, the economic and social problems of Britain are the same as those experienced in Korea and can also be found in Indonesia. However, it is also interesting to note that while experiencing similar social changes, they differ in the ways art is used.
Britain in the 1980s saw the strengthening power of government institutions under the regime of peaceful market competition proclaimed by the neoliberal policy of unlimited competition. In the rapid transition to a knowledge-based society, many people have struggled and fallen through the cracks. Along the way, the gap between the rich and poor has widened and become a major social problem. This polarization has been especially pronounced in the field of education. Britain is known as a country with a strong social safety net, though in practice it is, as ever, a country of castes – that is to say, social classes. The poor, the working classes, the middle classes, the new elite and the nobility as categories are in fact almost as fixed as castes. Traditionally in Britain, only the children of the upper class would get an education in the arts. But since 1946, after the Second World War, an artistic education at university has become available to the middle and lower classes through state support for university tuition. With the spread of British art to a wider range of social classes in this way, there have been many changes in terms of the nature and subjects of works of art. Modern British art is also heavily influenced by which political party is in power. In the history of Britain’s long-standing two-party system of the Conservative Party and the Labour Party, there have been significant differences in art-related policies according to the tendencies of the party that is in power. The Conservatives, who emphasize the competition and individual growth of the market economy, have sought to minimize state support for artists and artistic institutions, while the Labour Party, emphasizing the equality of opportunity and the accessibility of art, has actively supported the arts.[4][5] After our discussion online, I would like to further develop my understanding of Britain’s social-historical background and its current state.
Through my research on Indonesia, I saw the possibility of artists becoming activists and making their sincere voices heard in society. This differs from the methods and attitudes of past art movements and Minjung art. So, to me, this has become more attractive than even Ruangrupa’s exhibition at Kassel Documenta or the “charitable” activities of the market-leading Indonesia collectors.
There have always been works of art dealing with social issues: art has moved away from the decorative purpose to involve social engagement and political motives. Still, the results of these efforts were limited mostly to the individual artists’ own work. There are no known examples of this translating into any social impact or return to society by individual artists. Of course, there are many cases in which groups of artists work in the region and have a positive impact as well as regional revitalization. However, in that case, their efforts still do not affect the value of the art market. The artist is not required to serve as an activist. However, the possibility of having a positive impact on society is considered important.
This thought process led me to prepare a “critical reading” online discussion, and I brought people together and gathered facts that we could share in the project’s preliminary stages. I had to think about why I had brought these people together in connection with this project, and I had to struggle with what we ought to do together. I also want to find a way to make good use of art together with them. This project could be considered to have begun as a personal interest of mine, but in fact, I am really just setting up the forum for it. Here I would like to learn the wisdom of those who have lived long lives of artistic practice, and I hope to see the infinite imagination and possibilities of young people. We know that different perspectives will be brought together in this project and that some dissonance is inevitable. The process of bridging these gaps will not be as easy as overcoming physical distance. I hope we do not lose many people in the process. That is why I am giving much thought to ways to hold onto our strengths while respecting our individual roles. Through this Critical Reading project, I look forward to each of us expanding the horizons of our thinking.
―
[1] Kyunghyang Shinmun. August 12, 2020.
[2] Seoul Shinmun. October 26, 2020.
[3] Sunyoung Oh, An Interview with Ade Dalmawan on August 28, 2020
[4] Lee Sook-Kyung, ‘Evolution of British contemporary art; Galleries as introduced by the British Council,’ https://www.britishcouncil.kr/programmes/arts/visual-arts/uk-contemporary-art-02
[5] Arts Council England, http://www.artscouncil.org.uk
*Image: Sunah Choi, Woven, 2018