CT / MeetFactory Gallery / Laughter and Forgetting
Curator: Olga StefanOpening: September 8, 7:30 p.m.Exhibition duration: September 8 – November 13Artists: Esther Shalev-Gerz, Dor Guez, Clemens Von Wedemeyer,
Agnieszka Polska, Sarah Sweeney, Nedko Solakov, Himali Singh Soin, Sophie
Calle, Kateřina Šedá, Hito Steyerl, Dorothy Iannone, Dread Scott, Adam Vačkář,
Dan AcostioaeiExhibition
architect: Lukáš Machalický
Laughter and
Forgetting
is a group show that explores the malleability of memory, pain of laughter, the
interrelationship between public and private life, and the deception of human
relationships, taking its start from Milan Kundera’s The Book of Laughter and Forgetting written in 1978 and published
while in exile in Paris. The participating artists address the themes of
laughter, forgetting, love, litost (the untranslatable Czech word that refers
to a special type of regret), angels (symbols of totalitarianism) and the
border that develop in Kundera’s text musically through repetition, and are
presented in the exhibition through expanded video and photography projects
that reflect these media’s relationship to the construction and alteration of
history, elicitation of affective responses, or the actual documentation of
past experience.
The
architecture of the MeetFactory was especially conceived to guide us
organically in and out of the rooms where the works are arranged in loosely
thematic groupings, establishing additional meanings through their proximity to
each other as we glide through the porous space delineators that rather than
divide, remind us of both the limits and possibilities that borders pose.
As
is the condition of categories in our contemporary society, so in the
exhibition the lines separating artists’ works based on these specific themes
are blurred, a more metaphorical way for borders to be crossed and resistance
to the totalitarian imposition of a singular meaning to be expressed.
Therefore, despite the works primarily falling into one of six themes mentioned
above, these themes also overlap and melt into each other.
In
the first room, Nedko Solakov, Dor Guez and Esther Shalev-Gerz tackle history
and time, sometimes through personal narratives. In Replacement,
Solakov deals with the political system change in Bulgaria. A video that
recalls the history of the mausoleum of the country’s first communist leader,
which was built in six days, the time it took for his body to be transported
back to Sofia from Moscow where he had died, it also questions the merits of
the new political model. In 1999 the democratic government destroyed the
building attempting to eliminate that part of the country’s history.
While moving the camera in one shot around the empty space, Solakov
superimposes historic black and white photos of the area to show the contrast,
and maybe the lack of an ideological replacement.
Nedko
Solakov’s Nostalgia deals with
personal memory as he compares his younger skinny self, appearing in a photo on
his daughter’s shelf, to his current self, one who is older, more corpulent,
and who has experienced the collapse of communist ideology and the settling in
of capitalism from which he, as an artist, has benefited. If sometimes “a
type of forgetting motivated by repression” as Freud said, leads us to
nostalgia even for hard times, then it is mostly due to the realization of the
passage of time and the longing for our lost youth.
Also
through personal narrative, Dor Guez reveals a little known chapter of Israel’s
colonialist past – that of its repressive relationship to the Christian
Palestinian minority, a minority within a minority, whose fate is almost
entirely absent from any official historical accounts. In 40 Days, Guez documents his Palestinian grandfather recounting some
of the events of 1948, when in Israel’s war with the surrounding Arab countries
that attacked it after the UN Separation proposal, the IDF occupied the city of
Lodd which would have been in Palestine, and expelled its Arab population,
allowing only very few to remain, and those that did had to leave their homes
for other places of residence. The city was then taken over by Jewish
refugees, themselves expelled from Arab countries, pointing to the cycle of
violence, displacement, and ever-changing borders.
In Inseparable
Angels: An Imaginary House for Walter Benjamin, Esther
Shalev-Gerz documents a taxi trip from Weimar to the Buchenwald concentration
camp. The two are only 10km apart but the journey is not only geographic
– it is also a spiritual one from the center of Germany’s enlightenment (the
home of Goethe and Schiller) to the depths of its moral depravity. This
extreme moral shift through time is represented by Paul Klee’s Angel of History
(Angel Novus), a print that Walter
Benjamin kept with him as he wandered Europe in search for a home in the wake
of the Nazi’s ascension to power in his country of origin. The video’s
flow, like memory itself, is staggered, and interrupted by a voice that reads
texts from Benjamin, Kafka and others, which appear as photographs alongside
the video.
From
this room we can slip through the borders into the space on the left or
continue straight. The large room to the
left features works that use the image to refer to historical and personal
forgetting, while those in the room straight ahead refer to forgetting in art.
In Lovely Andrea, Hito Steyerl
searches for an episode in her past, when she was a bondage performer during
university in Japan. In this video, she is on a quest to find a picture of that
moment and questions arise – did the event actually take place? Is the photo
that she ultimately finds really of her? And as bondage is the act of
giving pleasure through submission, then who ultimately has power, the one that
is intentionally surrendering control or the one that is permitted (for money,
love, or pleasure) to take it? "Some people have to be tied up to be
free".
Dread
Scott’s archive of 100 images from various communist revolutions in Let 100 Flowers Blossom/ Let 100 Schools of
Thought Contend, are placed together with vases of fresh flowers, thus creating
a memorial, like a grave, to those moments that with time might ultimately be
erased from the annals of history, and turning the exhibition manager who must
replenish the flowers into a witness.
Digital
forgetting is illustrated in Sarah Sweeney’s The Forgetting Machine, an app that erases the image with each new
refresh. Like our memories themselves,
the image on the app deteriorates and alters with each new repetition, rather than
reinforce the original. Our
understanding of our past, too, is malleable and changes as our relationship
with it alters based on our time perspective and life experiences.
In
the space with works by Dorothy Iannone, Adam Vackar and Agnieska Polska, the latter also takes up
forgetting in her animated video, The Forgetting
of Proper Names, titled after Freud’s essay which is read as a voice-over in the background. As Freud analyses
our propensity of forgetting names and substituting them for others, Polska’s
images of famous artworks are recontextualized and manipulated so that we no
longer really remember the author, thus creating an altered version of events.
Personal
narrative, as is present in many of the other works in the show, is a technique
for confronting historical forgetting, and
Adam Vackar’s installation features an archive of objects belonging to
his grandparents from both sides, including one
grandfather’s musical compositions found on ebay, letters, photographs,
etc. Through these objects we learn of the turbulent micro-histories of
war-torn Europe. Here Adam becomes
curator of his grandparents’ lives and their migrations over shifting borders.
Through
humor, as is another facet of forgetting, we are able to deal with trauma, but
this time by distancing ourselves and allowing the painful events to exist
beyond us, as if they happened to someone else. Humor is also a political
weapon – it shatters the carefully constructed image of the powerful and
reveals a hidden truth. Hito Steyerl, Dorothy Iannone, and Nedko Solakov all
address history and memory with humor. Steyerl’s November tells the story of Andrea Wolf, the artist’s childhood
friend, who became a revolutionary PKK fighter and was killed by Turkish forces
in Kurdistan. Her image became a symbol for the revolutionary left the
world over, and a poster of her as a martyr was even seen in a cinema in Japan
while Hito Steyerl was filming Lovely
Andrea, her alias during her bondage days. Through footage from a
film that the two friends made together as teenagers juxtaposed with footage
from the period after Andrea’s death when her image became instrumentalized by
both the PKK and the Turkish/German governments, November tells how an image (both the physical photo and the
constructed identity of a person) can be manipulated and given symbolic meaning
at the service of opposing interests.
With
unrestrained irony, in The Story of Bern,
an artist book of text and drawings, Iannone recounts an episode where an
important exhibition at Kunsthalle Bern, at the time managed by the legendary
Harald Szeemann, was shut down by the police due to accusations of pornography
in her work. However the story reveals much more about sexism and power
relations, solidarity and the lack thereof, as well as conflicting personal
interests in the art world, subjects that most would prefer to leave
undisturbed, thus continuing the politics of forgetting in art and life.
The
border, both physical and metaphorical, is the subject, and also the title in
Russian, of Clemens Von Wedemeyer’s Otjesd. The
mass migration from Russia to Germany in the early 1990s and the often unclear
distinction between fiction and reality are part of von Wedemeyer’s exploration
of lines that are crossed, a topic of renewed urgency today and that is also
the subtext of the work of the majority of the other artists, as is the
struggle for power and control.
Historical
forgetting is once again explored through personal narrative, this time by Dan
Acostioaei originating from Iasi, a city whose population before the war was 50
% Jewish, deals with the image of Jews in contemporary Romania, when the
discourse is heavily framed by Legionar-sympathizers, antisemitism, or extreme
ignorance.
Sophie
Calle’s Exquisite Pain, Himali Singh
Soin’s Follies, and Katerina Seda’s Normal Life all deal with love and
forgetting, which are often associated with regret and humiliation
(lítost). Exquisite Pain is an
artist book that tells the story of the break-up of Calle’s amorous
relationship in India, where the two lovers were to meet. He never showed
up and didn’t have the courage to explain why. Calle’s anguish from this
loss of love and great betrayal are expressed in two parts of the book: the
first takes place before the break-up while the second is after. On each
page of this second part, Calle shows the photograph of her hotel room where
she realized that that love was an illusion, and juxtaposes it with the text
descriptions made by friends and colleagues of their most painful life
experiences. The repetition of the photograph along with that of the stories of
others’ misfortunes becomes a healing mechanism for Calle and she is thus able
to move on. Himali Singh Soin’s Follies,
named after architectural elements popular in the 18th century that serve
no function but are purely ornamental, are a series of twenty love letters,
addressed to follies found in the twenty arrondisements of Paris and translated
by Google into French, left for passersby to find on the street and in public
spaces. In this exhibition the project takes on additional significance
in the context of Kundera’s novel that opens with the story Love Letters. How
does one translate one’s feelings into words? Isn’t there always
something lost when emotions are articulated? But love is a risk, an
adventure, an unplanned encounter, as Alain Badiou tells us, and yet with time
it also can pass, leaving behind only words as its traces.
Normal Life is
an autobiographical book and series of drawings made by Katerina Seda’s
grandmother for Katerina’s baby, Julie. It tells of the war, life under
communism, and her preference for communism to the current capitalist
reality. Katerina saw her grandmother only once per year, on Christmas,
and the regret she feels about this lack of contact led her to ask her
grandmother to engage in this project, a sort of love letter to little Julie
who can never know the past except through her great-grandmother’s subjective
narrative.
Moving
freely through the spaces of the show and experiencing the works both
individually and in relation to each other, we grasp the full range of elements
that make up the human condition while many of the mechanisms we use to
construct our reality are revealed. Most artists in the show look inside to
their personal biographies to question these truths and subvert official
narratives, while also approaching other topics of existential import. Some
treat the themes of love and laughter as instruments of resistance in the face
of oppression (“Love is a constant
interrogation.”), while others tie them to the act of forgetting: with
time, memories even of those we once most loved begin to fade, and laughter
helps trauma wane – it is both a weapon and a medicine. “…in this ecstatic laughter he loses all memory, all desire, cries out
to the immediate present of the world, and needs no other knowledge.”
Political
and historic forgetting are confronted by revealing or articulating past
episodes inconvenient to our present national or personal image. One type of
image is challenged by another, more physical one.
The
struggle for power that fuels most human action plays out in the interpersonal,
as well as on a political and global level. It is the thread that connects the
exhibition together. We see it manifested in amorous relationships when we try
to avenge our humiliation (“…When the
illusion of absolute identity vanishes, love becomes a permanent source of the
great torment we call lítost.”), or in totalitarian regimes that also use
humiliation as a means of control, along with historic forgetting, and the
prohibition of free thought. But it also exists in our refusal to conform or to
accept given truths, thus reclaiming power from Power –
it
is present in our “NO”.
In
the exhibition that follows, we try to reveal how “the struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against
forgetting”.
(quotes
from Milan Kundera’s book)
This
show was adapted especially for the MeetFactory from a version that appeared
during Bucharest Art Week, October 2015.
Open
daily 1 – 8 pm and according to the evening program. Voluntary admission fee.
---
Contact and more information:
Šárka Maroušková → PR Manager
+420 723 706 249
sarka.marouskova@meetfactory.cz
MeetFactory is supported
in 2016 by a grant from the City of Prague amounting to
CT - Laughter and Forgetting.pdf