The
tendency of advancement of the Modern Art, encompassing the entire
world, politely passes around such dormant countries as Georgia,
Armenia, Azerbaijan and some others situated remotely from the center
of developments. Those occasional, if any, absolutely unrelated
bursts/attempts of organizing public cultural events in the field
of contemporary art fade away, usually, without any trace, leaving
some pleasant, or not so much, memories for the artists participating
in the particular one.
These,
and other numerous reasons, mothered the idea of Project One Stop,
born not so much to change the world, but rather to pull together
neighboring countries and open up the undoubtedly therein existing
potential to the rest of the world with the singly prospect of defining
own, personal path within the Modern Art.
The
choice of venue was made with aforementioned in mind, to please
the local conservative public – the street, more so, the main
street. The core of life in the southern cities, as Tbilisi is,
lies in the streets, among myriad of enthusiasts or bystanders.
Rustaveli Avenue or, more specifically, the area between the two
subway stops – Rustaveli and Freedom Square – was picked
specifically because of that.
The
entire spring and summer 2007 was dedicated to communicating to
the participating artists, sending all sorts of information, discussing
future artworks. The Participating artists were tasked according
to the dominating principle of the Project to incorporate into their
artwork the historic, cultural and social features of this street
and the city in its entirety, and, to the maximum extent possible,
contribute one’s own individuality into the existing urban
arrangement.
At
the end, fifteen projects have been chosen from so different countries
as Georgia, the Netherlands, Iran, the United States, Azerbaijan,
the Great Britain, Armenia, Austria, Kazakhstan, Italy, the Russian
Federation, and Slovenia.
As
usually in every project, especially the art one, the most of original
artworks underwent transformation at the site. Some of the works
have been completely changed by artists – e.g. the Vorobiovs,
upon on-site visit to Tbilisi, have abandoned the original idea
and embarked on a new, more appropriate project – “Photo
Session with Street Cleaners”, “Orange Evolution”.
In
light of ever increasing number of fountains in Georgia, the need
for creating one more by Charles Goldman – “The Grand
Font” – has outdated itself and was replaced by “PARAFONTs”
– kind of parasitic fountains inviting mixed opinions from
different social and political strata.
Sara
Radjaei, who planned a project in McDonalds, situated in the heart
of Rustaveli Square – a type of promotion of Georgian classic
author Shota Rustaveli, with literature club meeting and posting
fliers with the excerpts from poet’s creation, rejected the
idea after McDonalds refused to offer the space at the very last
moment. In the end, Sara reflected on T-shirts “Reverse Side”
of her project – hurriedly printed invitation with original
spelling errors, which, according to author, is inalienable part
of such projects.
Some
confusion among several official agencies was caused by the project
Freezing of Architects, in reality an Afghan carpet that was presented
by the authors as a flying carpet dragged by the same through all
the openings, laid down only to sit on it and drink wine, confining
themselves within its boundaries.
Success
followed the project of artist from St. Petersburg Andrei Rudjev
and Peter Belyi – “New Rust”, reinventing the
underpass, preserving on the walls multi-color heritage of various
kiosk.
Apparently,
the most massive was the project by the British artists at the Pushkin
Park on the Freedom Square. They were handing out free tea to everybody,
organized performances, collected photos for the “Memory Bus”,
made sketches of local dogs to exchange with British ones, swept
streets and entrances of the apartment buildings leaving behind
cards with the inscription: “I am a British tourist. I cleaned
your entrance. Thank you!”
And,
of course, the classics of the contemporary art – the IRWINs
with their new performance: phrase “WAS IST KUNST” created
using 100 soldiers.
Some
invited artists could not participate due to various reasons and
they were replaced by others – the fact that affected the
event not necessarily positively, though there definitely were some
successes. In particular, the video project by Ali Khasanov “HAMAM”
was well received, though the setting was inappropriate. Also, interesting
project by Norene Leddy “Aphrodite”, replacing at the
very last moment Sasha Chavchavadze’s “Museum of Matches”,
was not entirely fitting in.
There
was unfortunate occasion involved, as well – the project by
Flavio Favelli had to be dropped as a result of bureaucratic problems.
Another
unfortunate fact was that due to short stay of Aaron Gatch and Tigran
Khachatryan, their interesting projects “Time Machine”
and “Glory to the Labor”, respectively, did not enjoy
much attention.
Separately
standing, but completely following the spirit of the Project, were
works by Ingeborg Schtrobl and Tatia Skhirtladze “Songs to
Buildings” and by the group GANGART ‘Yellow Pages”,
with the latter undergoing modifications due to, once again, local
bureaucracy.
To
summarize the results of the Project One Stop, with all Yays and
Nays associated with it, despite misinterpretation by official institutions,
media and general public, the latter being, in fact, demonstrating
the genuine interest to the events, we can claim one thing: the
process has started, the ball got rolling, no matter how banal this
may sound.
It
still has to be acknowledged that the Project came to reality due
to crucial assistance of some state institutions and technical assistants.
I
do believe that success of each and every endeavor, more so of such
a nature, if not entirely that to the large degree depends on the
way it is presented to the public – something imposed, brutal
is equally forcefully rejected and forgotten. Therefore, in such
a delicate area as art, moreover, a contemporary art, everything
has to happen undetected, subtly, until one day you wake up in the
morning and understand that it is everywhere, around you, and you
can’t live without it.
Ana
Riaboshenko
Seriously
Funny: One Stop for Civic Dialogue
Lydia Matthews For
centuries urban planners have designed major thoroughfares in cities,
ones that become identified with the heart and soul of a particular
place. Streets like Rustavelli Avenue bustle with a constant flow
of human and technological energies, transport vehicles, commerce,
social exchange and lively acts of civic protest. The avenue functions
as the psycho-geographic spinal chord for the city’s social
body. Monumental buildings along Rustavelli manifest Tbilisi’s
unique local histories and cultures, while its commercial storefronts
and billboards register how global political forces, new technologies
and foreign values constantly intervene within the visible environment
and its invisible infrastructures-- not to mention within the complex
psyches of its inhabitants. Each day locals, immigrants and tourists
can find solace there through time-honored and deeply familiar spaces,
images and social rituals. But inevitably the mundane and comforting
butts up against something profoundly alien, sometimes entertaining
while other times producing deeply disturbing effects. If one looks
attentively, the uncanny abounds along this epic street.
The
three North American artists participating in TRAM’s “One
Stop” project capitalize on this uncanny, fluctuating and
globally inflected social space. Their projects co-opt materials
and objects that are common within all contemporary urban environments:
civic fountains, industrial detritus, fashionable women’s
shoes, cellular phone and video devices, surveillance technologies,
battery-generated loud speaker systems. But in each case, these
U.S.-based artists combine the familiar with the weird as well as
the serious with the silly to produce deliberately destabilizing
works. Like many emerging artists born in the late 1960s/ 70s, they
demonstrate a sense of personal agency through “Do It Yourself”
(DIY) methods, widely accessible and often recycled materials and
technologies, research-oriented creative processes, and collaborative
exchanges with individuals and organizations from a variety of professional
fields. Their carefully crafted formal works are meant to disrupt
both the social and aesthetic expectations of their audience, posing
unanswered questions and provoking debate about thorny political
issues of our time.
Charles Goldman’s “le Gran Font,” a monumental
pyramidal fountain made from discarded industrial oil barrels, conjures
the glorified tradition of historic European public fountains while
pointing to the overwhelming ominous omnipresence of our petroleum-based
global economy. A simple electric pump forces a pool of water to
re-circulate unrelentingly, and these uniformly shaped oil barrels
spewing their rivulets bear more resemblance to pissing drunken
sailors than they do to an ideally sculpted Poseidon of yesteryear.
Still, there is a carefully considered formal elegance within Goldman’s
recycled and democratically hand-crafted piece: he simply remakes
the fountain in our own current socio-political image. The proximity
of the U.S.-funded Caspian oil line and the horrifying battles over
petroleum resources throughout the Middle East are not lost on Goldman,
and this work implicates his own historical and political position
within consumer culture. The fact that he makes his work collaboratively
in a workshop-style process, however, invites not a solitary reflection
on this contemporary condition, but rather a transnational, collective
perspective. How might we use art as a pretext for coming together
to grapple with environmental and political conditions that we share?
Norene
Leddy’s “The Aphrodite Project: Platforms” takes
on a different but equally ubiquitous contemporary phenomenon: the
challenging role of female sexuality in contemporary society, and
the violence leveled against women as a result of hostility or ambivalence
towards sex work. Like Goldman, Leddy turned to historical precedents
for instruction, conducting scholarly research in Cyprus on the
cult of Aphrodite and her sexual priestesses. Recognizing prostitutes’
vital role in civic society, she became inspired by ancient sandals
that had the words “follow me” inscribed on their sole.
Leddy updated these shoes to service contemporary sex workers by
collaborating with the workers themselves, technological advisors
and a professional cobbler. Together they designed and crafted a
functional prototype of sexy sandals with Global Positioning Satellite
(GPS) surveillance and video technologies embedded into their platform
soles. These “platforms” offer sex workers a means of
voicing their desires and professional needs: the shoes visually
allure customers, protect against violence through alarm systems,
effectively advertise to established clients through internet connectivity,
and link to supportive NGOs who work for sex workers’ rights.
In performances wearing these sandals—as well as asking her
audience to literally “try walking in prostitutes shoes”--
she aims to playfully provoke debates about the legal status of
prostitution in the civic arena and raise awareness of issues that
sex workers face today. Her aesthetic work not only includes performing
and displaying the shoes on the street, but also hosting open forums
with local audiences and organizations in a variety of cities.
The
Center for Tactical Magic (CTM), co-founded by Aaron Gach, brings
their “Ghost Machine” to Tbilisi. Another DIY project
brought about by an entity that fashions itself as an anonymous
cross between ninja masters, an old-fashioned magicians and stealth
private eyes, “Ghost Machine” consists of a loud speaker
system that attaches to the side of a pre-existing street pole,
operated by a simple fan that harnesses wind power. The contraption
appears like a cross between a Russian Constructivist piece from
the 1920s and something that one might find in a popular theatrical
side-show. The subversive “magic” in this work is that
the wind power generates loud sounds that conjure the moans of the
dead. As if channeling the groans and howling of those who have
been wronged by the State, this haunting machine oscillates between
being psychically disturbing, physically annoying and absurdly funny.
CTM’s vision is to situate it directly in front of an institution
where State Power is exercised (for example, a police station or
the Hall of Justice) so that the voices of those who have been “silenced”—often
violently-- may resound once again. Aware of Rustavelli Avenue as
the revolutionary gathering ground for the region’s most significant
past and present political protests, CTM pays homage to the proud
history of radical democracy in action. In particular, the machine
acts as a tribute to the history of Georgian resistance to unbridled
State power, which continues today, as we witnessed once again here
in early October. As in many of their previous projects, CTM galvinizes
social interactions, thus focusing debate around particular issues
while allowing people to recognize that political engagement is
not only necessary but can be enjoyable, as well.
Through
their works, these artists propose a few ground rules for aesthetic
civic engagement, demonstrating what Joseph Beuys dubbed “Social
Sculpture” (and what a variety of critics more recently call
“relational aesthetics,” and “art as social practice.”)
When disturbed by a social condition in daily life—in this
case various forms of violence--they boldly imagine aesthetic works
that catalyze dialogue about the possibility of alternative scenarios.
They nurture a historical consciousness about how the present is
inflected by artistic precedents, cultural memories, and personal
stories. A sense of human agency is gained through their modest
DIY sensibility: these artists use ordinary materials and celebrate
a democratized creative process. Rather than make the work alone,
they often find others to help and honor their expertise as collaborators.
Social practice artists don’t focus exclusively on creating
fetishized consumer objects, but instead value the creativity and
critical consciousness unlocked by their innovative research methods.
Above all, the success of their work is centered around the vitality
of the civic dialogue it playfully sparks.
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