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3/8/14

El cineasta de las "máquinas de ver" ; José Luis de Vicente; 02/08/2014

Harun Farocki: Parallel III

Harun Farocki: Parallel III.

Algunos artistas son capaces de sintonizar una cierta vibración de fondo de la historia colectiva, de detectar los movimientos de las placas tectónicas de la sociedad que marcan el inicio de las grandes transiciones, y que anuncian los nuevos paradigmas políticos, culturales y tecnológicos. Los necesitamos porque en muchos casos son los primeros en proporcionarnos las imágenes y el vocabulario necesarios para dialogar sobre estos cambios. No tengo ninguna duda de que Harun Farocki ha sido uno de los más importantes en el espacio de tránsito del Siglo XX al XXI.

Su nombre es menos conocido para el público general que el de otros visionarios que han investigado a fondo el tejido de nuestra realidad, pero su obra es tan influyente que merece su propio adjetivo. Lo Farockiano es una autopsia clínica y distante, pero meticulosa, de los mecanismos políticos o tecnológicos que el poder utiliza para ejercer el control sobre todos los sujetos y crear la ilusión consensuada que constituye el orden social.

Hay muchos Farockis distintos en su monumental obra que abarca más de noventa películas y videoinstalaciones a lo largo de cuatro décadas. Todas juntas, componen un conjunto de recursos casi enciclopédico sobre los mecanismos y procesos que han dado forma a la sociedad del tardocapitalismo: desde la cultura corporativa y el auge de la industria de los servicios financieros a las tecnologías de vigilancia y control o la virtualización de la guerra.

Para algunos, entre los que me cuento, es sin embargo su etapa más reciente la más intrigante de todas, la que ha quedado con su muerte tristemente truncada. Desde comienzos del siglo XXI, con su esencial "Eye / Machine" (parte de la colección del MACBA) Farocki empieza a mostrarnos cómo las tecnologías de la guerra se alimentan de un nuevo ojo, el ojo electrónico, representado en los sistemas de video que guían las bombas de precisión que forman parte esencial de la Guerra en la Era de las Máquinas Intelingentes. Farocki reconoce de esta forma que la imagen se encuentra en una encrucijada histórica, a medida que se convierte literalmente en instrumento de control, que una cámara se utiliza como sistema integral de una tecnología de guerra.

Trabajos posteriores como "Deep Play", un estudio de la final del mundial de fútbol de 2006 representado por todos los sistemas introducidos en el estadio que captan el partido y lo convierten en distintas señales de video y de datos, señalan directamente al nuevo régimen visual en el que vivimos. Un régimen en el que, como dice el artista Trevor Paglen –uno de los herederos más directos de Farocki–, la mayoría de las imágenes que se producen en el mundo las producen máquinas para máquinas. Las imágenes de estas "máquinas de ver" (término también de Paglen) que se encuentran en los sistemas que cuantifican el tráfico en un autopista, que reconocen matrículas de coche automáticamente, o que guían el vuelo de un drone.

Sus últimas obras se adentraban en la historia de la simulación digital de la imagen, reconstruyendo la evolución de la estética de la animación por ordenador y los videojuegos desde los años 70 hasta nuestros días, en los que la cuestión de si una imagen ha sido capturada en la realidad o producida desde cero dentro de un ordenador se ha convertido en verdaderamente incierta. Una de ellas, "Parallel", puede verse estos días en el Centro de Arte LABoral de Gijón, dentro de la exposición Datascape.

Su desaparición nos priva del resto de esta investigación necesaria, pero Farocki deja un buen número de sucesores artistas –como James Bridle, Timo Arnall y el propio Trevor Paglen– que heredan la misión de continuarla.

From El Diario.

10/7/14

Excéntricos, moleculares e inmateriales: MOR, un Museo Oral de la Revolución, proyecto de Beatriz Preciado; Lucía Piedra, Diciembre 2013.

a) M.O.R.

Entre el museo y la ciudad hay una relación contractual (entendiendo la ciudad como infraestructura de entes privados y no privados que se relacionan). Marina Garcés [1], plantea que este contrato es una ficción calculada, y se ha inventado con unos propósitos que podemos imaginar. En esta comunidad de propietarios en la que vivimos, el museo (como un propietario más) realiza su ejercicio de sumisión y obligación hacia los poderes dominantes. Tiene una relación autista con su entorno, caracterizada por la incapacidad de establecer contacto verbal y afectivo con las personas. 

No hay un acto del habla que establezca un verdadero nexo entre la pareja que configura el “museo-propietario” y el “individuo-sin-nada-que-perder”. Su voz va quedando confiscada en su propio recinto, más aún conforme los focos culturales se desplacen a espacios más pequeños, espontáneos, sin vínculos contractuales de ningún tipo y en sintonía con otros relatos.

La voz confinada, la voz libertaria. ¿Con cuál de ellas estamos dirigiendo nuestras reivindicaciones? ¿Estamos seguros de que nuestra voz no está hablando desde el confinamiento? La desfachatez del sistema capitalista es tal, que ni protestar, ni revelarse a la vieja usanza será suficiente. Nos hemos convertido en ese enorme "padre" que intenta dialogar con ese hijo autista que determina toda su vida. Y digo "hijo", porque debemos asumir que lo que tenemos es fruto también de lo que co-creamos y permitimos conformar.

Recientemente se abrió el archivo MOR, un Museo Oral de la Revolución, concebido por Beatriz Preciado y realizado a partir de la investigación y la colaboración de los alumnos del PEI (Programa de Estudios Independientes) del MACBA. Archivo-exposición performativo y sonoro, el MOR se estructuró en talleres, performances, itinerarios por el Raval e interpretaciones públicas de enunciados, discursos o manifiestos. Todas las actividades se trazaron partiendo del cuestionamiento sobre cómo hacer audibles (en el contexto del museo y de la ciudad contemporánea) los lenguajes históricos de transformación social, e inventados por las minorías raciales, de género, sexuales, corporales y de diversidad funcional y cognitiva.


b) M.O.R


Desde Tussaint-Louverture, Olympe de Gouges, Jean Deroin, Karl Ulrich y Larry Kramer entre otros, se han escuchando voces de cuerpos abyectos que se han declarado sujetos políticos sin haber tenido derecho a hablar públicamente. ¿Cómo sucede esto? Preguntó Rancière. Se invitó a los artistas y participantes a responder ésta y otras preguntas: ¿Cómo se inventa una escena de la enunciación? ¿Cuál es la “voz contemporánea” que irrumpe en el lenguaje de la ley para interrumpir su funcionamiento unívoco? cuestionó J. Butler.

Muchas de las experiencias a las que se hacen referencia en el archivo MOR dejan claro que hay un valor importante en la manera en que las minorías lanzan enunciados construidos colectivamente. De forma molecular, microscópica, excéntrica y no por ello inexistente. Con el mismo efecto acumulativo que nos provocó a los participantes, la experiencia de intensificar la escucha en la obscuridad o la enunciación de actos del habla; la oralidad de lo dicho pasó de imperceptible e individual a colectiva y corpórea. Resonancias, ecos, voces. Ya no eran nuestras, sino de todos.

La invitación a entender ahora la potencia de nuestra situación como una conjunción concreta de cuerpos, sentidos, quehaceres, rutinas, e interrupciones era clara, y nos conduciría a asumir que los cuerpos que "se continúan", dice Marina Garcés, tendrán la posibilidad de construir una voz compuesta de multitud, orgánica y diversa. Esa concatenación de cuerpos nacida de la efracción, construye sin duda una riqueza colectiva. Por unos días, el MOR dio una tregua a la pareja “museo-propietario” e "individuos-sin-nada-que-perder”, favoreciendo la posibilidad de que comenzaran a escucharse. Es una invitación abierta en el tiempo que valdría la pena repetir.

[1] Marina Garcés, Un mundo común (Barcelona: Ediciones Bellaterra, 2013).



Desde A-desk.

2/1/14

Archive as Strategy: Conversations about Self-historicisation Across the East’; Curated by Lina Džuverović

http://calvert22.org/images/uploads/events/2012/2011/archive-as-strategy1-98a548d1d1fc2671931734a3fceb01d6e070a20f.jpg



‘Archive as Strategy: Conversations about Self-historicisation Across the East’ is an on-going research strand which forms a core part of the Calvert 22 Foundation programme. Envisaged as a two year-long series of events, presentations and meetings, Archive as Strategy is an open-ended and discursive platform which encourages participants to play an active role in the development of the series.
As its point of departure, this series addresses the growing phenomenon of self-historicisation – a social trend which has developed throughout Eastern Europe over the last three decades. Since the 1980s, communities of artists and intellectuals across the East have faced parallel states of precarity which profoundly affected the ability of ‘official’ art institutions to perform the traditional duties of supporting, archiving, historicising and providing a critical framework for local artistic outputs. As a result, artists have increasingly taken it upon themselves to perform the role of a historian, archivist and curator, in the hopes of historicising their own artistic production as well as that of their peers. The Archive as Strategy series aims to connect these histories across the region by identifying and examining several key self-archiving initiatives and by mapping these activities in relation to significant topics in Calvert 22’s current exhibition season.

This series takes place at regular intervals, where events are primarily held at the Calvert 22 Foundation. Each event focuses on one particular self-archiving project and is explored via screenings, curator/artist presentations, workshops, and/or discussions. Many past Archive as Strategy events have been documented (photography and video), and are available for view on www.archiveasstrategy.org. The materials, conversations and documents collected during the course of the Archive as Strategy series will eventually be developed into a reader published by Calvert 22.
The Archive as Strategy series is supported by a growing interest for the research and study of artistic practices in the East, and is produced in cooperation with the History of Art Department at University College London (UCL).

Check the list of different events to see the development of the project.
Bring from the very interesting Marginalia, a project of Aimar Arriola.

28/10/13

Mario García Torres: "Hay que reivindicar la sinceridad en el arte" Por: Miguel Ángel García Vega | 12 de octubre de 2013


MGT_byJoseVazquez_Hor_300[1]
Mario García Torres (Monclova, México, 1975) es uno de los más brillantes artistas de su generación.
Su trabajo es una mirada que nos columpia sobre el tiempo. Hacia el pasado, revisando pequeños acontecimientos olvidados o perdidos de la historia del arte del siglo XX, y hacia el futuro, poniéndolos en contexto dentro de nuestra propia época y de su inquietante porvenir.
En 2010 —muchos se acordarán— mostró una soberbia pieza en el Museo Reina Sofía: ¿Alguna vez has visto la nieve caer? Un viaje, en forma de proyección de diapositivas, en busca del One Hotel de Kabul (Afganistán), un lugar mítico que el artista italiano Alighiere e Boetti (1940-1994) regentó durante la década de los setenta del siglo pasado. En tiempo actual, acaba de presentar en el Museo Vostell-Malpartida (Cáceres), dentro del proyecto Campo Adentro, cuatro instalaciones que reflexionan sobre el arte en el mundo rural. 
Mario García Torres Nieve
Todo ello dibuja una excelente disculpa para conversar con este artista que ha cambiado Los Ángeles por él Distrito Federal (DF) mexicano, que expone, entre otras, en la galería Proyectos Monclova, dirigida por su hermano José, y que ha mostrado su trabajo en la Documenta 13 de Kassel y en la 52 edición de la Bienal de Venecia. Buenos augurios.
Pregunta. Su propuesta exige tiempo y esfuerzo al espectador. ¿No es ir a contracorriente ahora que todo tiene que ser rápido y fácil?
Respuesta.
Cierto. Pero resulta importante buscar la manera de generar que el ritmo y el tiempo sean otros en el museo. Tiene que ver con una necesidad de sinceridad. Puede sonar pretencioso, pero es interesante reivindicar la sinceridad en el mundo del arte. ¿Hasta qué punto puede uno hablar de la historia del arte siendo partícipe de ella? Esa honestidad hacia la conciencia de dónde está uno situado en la historia es de alguna manera lo que trato de pedir al espectador al crear obras. Para mí concebir una pieza tiene que ver con encontrar gente que piense igual que yo o que tenga los mismos intereses. 
Mario García Torrea Reina I
P. ¿Su trabajo genera discursos nuevos o todo son relecturas?
R.
La pregunta está relacionado con si el arte tiene que ver con ideas nuevas o por qué esperamos esas ideas nuevas. Quiero pensar que existe una cierta novedad en lo que hago, en la manera de acercarme a las cosas. Pero hay una gran equivocación en relación a creer que el arte es algo nuevo. Porque una cosa es generar una estrategia interesante y novedosa y otra pensar que el pasado no es algo nuevo. El pasado es una estrategia para hablar de la cotidianeidad.
P. ¿Alguna vez has visto la nieve caer? era, en cierta forma, un ejercicio de nostalgia. ¿Por qué este sentimiento se halla tan presente en su obra?
R. Es cierto que es una presencia. Pero ¿Alguna vez ..? se refiere al fotoperiodismo. Habla de relaciones sociales, de historia y de geografía histórica. En esa pieza hay una cierta atmósfera de recogimiento, pero tiene que ver más con pensar la historia como un gesto íntimo y personal.
P. Vivimos una época en la que cada vez se producen más ocurrencias y menos obras de arte. ¿Cómo distinguir unas de otras?
R.
Es una pregunta difícil. Pero seguramente volvería a hablar de sinceridad. A la hora de mirar una obra de arte hay que ver hasta qué punto es un gesto sincero y hasta qué punto esa sinceridad es pertinente. Cuando las cosas se hacen con demasiada ironía o con desapego al sistema y a la conciencia del sistema en el que esos objetos están funcionando, por más complejo que sea el gesto, resulta ser una ocurrencia. Hay obras de arte que son gestos muy sencillos y parecen una ocurrencia, pero en el momento en el que uno entiende que existe esa honestidad alrededor pueden tener una potencia increíble.
Mario García Torres Reina Sofía
P. ¿Cree que su trabajo tiene un impacto social?
R. No en lo inmediato. Las obras de arte no cambian los sistemas sociales. Tienen un impacto social en relación al pensamiento, a quién transmite las cosas y cómo. Las obras de arte tienen que introducir una pequeña pregunta, un pequeño tema, una semilla que pueda arraigar en alguien. Por otro lado, no pretendo enseñar nada a nadie. No quiero que mis obras descubran en la gente cosas concretas.
P. ¿Por qué le interesan tanto los proyectos fallidos de otros artistas?
R. No me interesan las cosas fallidas, me interesan aquellas historias que no repercuten; las que no tienen un impacto específico. Quiero saber todo lo que hay detrás, todo lo que hizo a esa persona llegar a ese punto. Me importa menos como algo fetichista. Ni siquiera me interesa el personaje, ni investigar cómo funciona eso en el sistema del arte. He pasado ocho años investigando un proyecto creado por Alighiero Boetti, pero lo primero que me interesó no es Boetti como persona, sino cómo es que una historia tan pequeña, con tan poca información, con dos imágenes, circula en el sistema del arte y ha generado un gran mito, y de qué manera se ha contado esa historia a través de esas dos fotografías.
Mario Kabul
P. ¿Dónde podemos ubicar su trabajo?
R. Es muy difícil encontrar un espacio concreto. El 90% de las obras que se conciben hoy en día proceden del arte conceptual. Mi estrategia tiene que ver con un gesto muy específico. Sin embargo, una gran parte de la información que termina siendo la obra está relacionada con las estrategias documentales, el fotoperiodismo o el cine.
P. Cada vez más artistas son, a la vez, comisarios. Usted es un ejemplo de ello. ¿Por qué? ¿Quizá porque la crítica, la buena, cada vez está más desaparecida y los creadores están tomando ese lugar?
R. Es una historia larguísima, que ahora resulta más evidente. Desde mediados de los años sesenta del siglo pasado, la gente pretendía tomar esa posición. Tenía que ver con que los artistas generaban una cierta autonomía y también su propio discurso. No dejaban que se hiciera institucionalmente. Hemos pasado por muchas décadas en las que esa negociación del artista con la institución ha cambiado bastantes veces. Ahora estamos en un momento interesante donde no solo los creadores hacen exposiciones sino que también los comisarios lo que me parece muy valioso se convierten en directores de museos. Por ejemplo, Manolo [Manuel Borja-Villel] lleva la dirección del Museo Reina Sofía como si fuera una exposición. Con este planteamiento, el proyecto resulta mucho más ambicioso.
La foto4
Un disco de artista es uno de los últimos proyectos de Mario García Torres. Cortesía: Galería Elba Benítez.
P. Trabaja entre México, que ahora mismo parece uno de los grandes centros artísticos del planeta, y España donde, culturalmente, rozamos la inanición. ¿Nota esa diferencia?
R. Por una razón u otra vengo mucho a España. Participo en los dos extremos. Hice la exposición en el Reina Sofía, que es un centro gravitacional tanto dentro como fuera de su país, y ahora trabajo en la exhibición en el Museo Vostell-Malpartida, donde el público y el presupuesto son pequeños. Esta diferencia me atrae mucho. No me parece que España esté en una situación dramática.

3/6/13

Scorpio's Garden; Compiled by Kirstine Roepstorff; Temporäre Kunsthalle, Berlin, 09/25/2009 - 11/15/2009

http://www.kunsthalle-berlin.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/exhibition-slideshow/poster_Roepstorff_001_midres.jpg

"Scorpio's Garden" at Temporare Kunsthalle Berlin

http://www.hatjecantz.de/bookpages/9783775727488_10.jpg



The exhibition Scorpio’s Garden is a subjective snapshot of the current Berlin art scene, bringing together works and performances of more than 30 international artists. With Scorpio’s Garden, the artist Kirstine Roepstorff (*1972) metaphorically interprets Berlin as a garden, thus highlighting the city’s role as a platform for intellectual exchange and artistic production – a place where images, ideas and concepts find a favorable medium in which to grow, proliferate and compete with each other. The works selected for
Scorpio’s Garden take up motifs of development and growth, decline and decadence, control, spontaneity and sexuality. They reflect the dynamic competition distinguishing the art scene in this city, which is still making an effort to work its way out of the ruins of a traumatic century.
Neither a retrospective nor an outlook, the exhibition reflects Berlin’s continuing appeal to artists from all over the world and their activities in this city. Its official birthday (the first mention of the city in a document is Oct, 28, 1237), as well as the day on which the Berlin Wall came down (Nov. 9, 1989), fall under the sign of Scorpio, which in the year’s cycle of growth and decay stands for destruction, disintegration and dissolution, and thus, at the same time, for providing the potential for renewal.

Works by
Monica Bonvicini | Enrico David | Jason Dodge | Elmgreen & Dragset | Isa Genzken | Julian Göthe | Karl Holmqvist | Alexandra Hopf | Judith Hopf | Laura Horelli | Anna-Kavata Mbiti | Shahryar Nashat | Henrik Olesen | Kirsten Pieroth | Lotte Reiniger | Dean Sameshima | Dash Snow | Josef Strau | Suzanne Treister | Susanne Winterling | Amelie von Wulffen

Performances & Lectures by
Nevin Aladag | assume vivid astro focus | Gerry Bibby | Juliette Blightman | Kerstin Cmelka | Simon Fujiwara & Tim Davies | Karl Holmqvist | Judith Hopf | Fiona James | Sergey Karamyshev | Douglas Kløvedal | Warren Neidich | Gustav Opland | Yorgos Sapountzis | Egill Sæbjörnsson & Marcia Moraes | Elvis Schlaegel

********************

The second year of the Temporäre Kunshalle (2008-2010) was extremely interesting:

In the second year committed artists were invited to curate group shows. The aim was not only to present the perspectives of insiders addressing their own local artistic context, but to grasp and employ the Kunsthalle itself as an extension of artistic processes. In the exhibitions by Kirstine Roepstorff (Scorpio’s Garden), Karin Sander (Zeigen. An Audio Tour through Berlin), Phil Collins (Auto-Kino!), Tilo Schulz (squatting. erinnern, vergessen, besetzen), and John Bock (FischGrätenMelkStand), the artist-curators newly interpreted the medium of exhibition as an artwork and conceived approaches to question the complex relations between artwork, institution, exhibition space, and viewer in a direct debate with the invited artists, their ideas and networks. The spatial possibilities of the large exhibition hall proved to be advantageous, forcing the artist-curators to seek new and often surprising paths and combine what appeared incompatible. 

More info here

29/4/13

Monster, History, Fiction; Interview with Anselm Franke, Curator of the Taipei Biennial 2012

Monster, History, Fiction Interview with Anselm Franke, Curator of the Taipei Biennial 2012

 Interview made on the 22nd July, 2012, in Taipei
by Sylvie Lin

In contemporary art, photographical elements are often integrated into installation works or being used as a means of archiving. VOP interviewed Anselm Franke, curator of the Taipei Biennial 2012 (to be held in September) to talk about the topic of the biennial, ‘Modern Monsters / Death and Life of Fiction’ and specific photographic works that will be shown in the exhibition.

 Q Please talk about your past curatorial experiences.

A Originally, I used to work in the fields of theatre, film and television with artist/filmmaker Christoph Schlingensief ; he passed away in 2010 and represented Germany in the Venice Biennale in 2011. From 2003 to 2005, I collaborated with architects in making exhibitions. We didn’t look at the architecture as design but more as planning processes and political geographies. What was important for me in my collaboration with architects is that it is a way to think political questions and the organization of the space. Since 2003, most of the projects I was involved with were collaborations. We shared a common interest in ‘borders’, not only physical borders (of the buildings or the states) but rather social and political borders and borders of the imagination, the way images take part in creating limits. The way we are now trying to use the figure of the monster for the 2012 Taipei Biennial also has to with this interest: the monster is always a limit figure or a liminal figure. There are various forms of monsters, beyond the borders of the human, of the normal, of the laws of reality, etc. Most of these borders and limits appear to us more or less “given” or even natural. The curatorial task is to open up and de-stabilize this understanding, to show how limits are constructed, what is the role of culture, technologies and non-human factors in their making.

Another important experience is that I’ve worked with film for a long time. In 2005, with Stephanie Schulte Strathaus, we founded the Forum Expanded, a section for art and film within the Berlin International Film Festival/Berlinale. Since then, every year, we organized sections on artists’ films, and filmmakers who do installations in the context of the Berlinale.

 Q Please talk about your ‘Animism’ project (ref : http://www.extracity.org/en/projects/view/52). Is it connected to the Taipei Biennial 2012 in certain ways ?

 A ‘Animism’ was conceived as a project to question the story we tell about modernity. What is modernity? What are normally the sort of images and stories that we connect with this idea? ‘Animism’ used to be a concept used by European anthropologists to describe what was at the opposite of modernity. If you are not modern then you are animist. We used the concept as mirror not to look at the so-called ‘animist’, neither did we intend to make an exhibition ‘about’ animism. Rather, we used the history of the concept to look back at the ideas of those who called others ‘animist’. Again, it’s very much about borders. Because the way European scholars described the animism of peoples in South America, Africa, Siberia, Japan…was always as the absence of the same distinctions that modern people do, such as between a pure subjective inside and an objective nature that follows all the natural laws. In animism, you have a different relationship to things, to nature; you don’t treat them as just “dead matter” that is indifferent to humans. Therefore, it is also about borders: it’s about drawing certain distinctions differently, and this concerns literally everything: everyday experience just as much as the definition of what is a ‘subject’, a ‘self’, or a ‘legal person’. Then, when other people make those distinctions in a different way, you call them ‘pre-modern’. So modernity is always about borders, and what we were trying to do is develop a curatorial ‘frame’ that de-colonizes the imagination, and shows how these borders are implemented and policed, but also how they can be conceived differently. Based on this question of modernity, we try to elaborate in the Taipei Biennial what many people around the globe now perceive as the urgent need to break free from the ‘frame’ of colonial modernity and its narratives, its way of describing the world, and the need to tell different histories of modernity, to break open this modernity question and its notorious self-reproducing mythologies, to re-describe our immediate histories under terms that do not automatically reproduce those ‘borders’. This is part of what we are trying to do with the monster ‘Taowu’ proposed by David (Der-Wei) Wang as a means to write modern Chinese history.(Editor’s note : See Wang Der-Wei, The Monster That Is History. History, Violence, and Fictional Writing in Twentieth-Century China)


 Q How did you get to know the work of David Wang ?

A I read a lot of books about the relation between historical experience – especially history about violence – and fiction. Violence is something that is difficult to remember. It destroys memory and cultural continuity itself to a certain degree. These memories come up in fiction. For example, you could say there are many great American novels for the past thirty years. They are not so much the bestsellers but those that take a certain tradition of novel-writing. They deal with American histories of slavery, of racism, etc., things that are very important in the collective memory but very difficult to address, other than through fiction : it’s not about the facts, the dates and so on but the way they form and haunt people in the present that needs to be described through fiction.

This sort of interest in the relation between history and fiction was something that I shared with couple of writers and artists. The task is to read fiction against the grain, not as make-believe, but as a form of documentary of that which escapes positivist historical accounts. In 2006, we have also made an exhibition around the question, it bore the title ‘No Matter How Bright the Light, the Crossings Occur at Night’. David Wang’s book was something I came across in this continuous research and interest. Also, I found there is a big need here to analyze and narrate Chinese modernity in its own terms. That is what is so valuable about David Wang’s attempt. He writes a kind of a history that has a certain proximity to Benjamin, Derrida or even Bataille. But he doesn’t use this as a theoretical framework. It’s something that is familiar but it doesn’t imply reading Chinese histories of violence, external and internal colonialism and modernization. Instead, he uses the frame of this ancient mythology. That creates a certain image of the contemporary situation in relation to the past, which is very strong. It’s more about an image created in the imagination. We are not making a biennial about literature but about the imaginary in a wider sense. The idea is to make an exhibition that shifts between fiction and historical analysis, just as the identity, or face of the “monster” in this exhibition constantly changes.

 Q Among the artists who will present photographical works in this biennial, we find the Taiwanese photographer Chang Chao-Tang. How do you understand his work ? What works will be shown and how will you present them in the context of this biennial ?

 A He is one of the several chroniclers of post-war Taiwan. The amazing thing is that his work covers a period from the late fifties till today. So it’s basically more than half a century. It was important for us to have somebody whose photographic work can mirror a lot of different periods in Taiwan’s history. In his work, there is something that people are familiar with yet you can always find some moments of strangeness particularly in his photographs.

Also, there are periods where he is more experimental. I first knew him through the catalogues of his works. Until I met him personally, I learned that he was a journalist and a reporter. Photography was always a side activity for him. This characteristic of being in-between, not being the sort of artistic photographer per se is interesting. You can sometimes read the images as almost journalistic images and then as totally aesthetic images. What I like in his work is that you can move between these poles of extreme. Then you have this sort of images that are very well-known, like the image of the self-portrait without a head, with just a shadow on the wall. It is an image that allows many possible readings. When he was experimenting photography he was also reading Sartre, so there is all this existentialist influence in it, which is interesting in terms of the global importance Sartre had at the moment. These are the moments when the images of Chang Chao-Tang open themselves to different readings and place Taiwan in such a context. It becomes local again because his images sometimes have this sort of universal look of the ‘Family of Man’ exhibition. I like this movement in his work.

For the Taipei Biennial, we will make a selection of all the five decades. We’re still working on the presentation but basically we will show them in a sort of condensed overview. There would be a lot of images together. What we are thinking about would be more like Peter Brook’s style. Images will be grouped based on their motifs and in blocks. There is no strict chronology but more jumping among motifs, like this movement I just described : making something very specific localized, and this attempt of universalization, this movement between ‘reportage’(Editor’s note : The French term means ‘report’ in English) and aesthetics. We try to make movements between these categories rather than going from 1959 to 2006. But of course, there will be dates connected to all the images.

 Q What are other photographic works in the biennial ?

 A A part of the photographic works in this biennial is based on archive photos, like the project of Maryam Jafri and that of the Otolith Group. Each of the two projects consists of around fifty images. Maryam Jafri’s project is called ‘Independence Day’. It’s a collection of photographs from the moments of the founding of new states during the period of de-colonization, mainly in the 1960s. When we look at the images today, there is a historical distance of what has happened since. A project like this certainly takes on a very particular reading in Taiwan. We found it interesting to see how meaning changes when the images are being shown today – when we have a slightly different view on the expectations that ‘independence’ carried back then, before the historical experience of neo-colonialism and ‘globalization’. What is also present in these images when presented today is what happened after them – in terms of the histories that ‘power’ has written, but these are stories we normally don’t really know how to tell well. You can’t help but asking yourself in front of these images: What story do I have? Do I have a narrative for the past 50 years, for its aspirations, disappointments and novel monstrosities? And it is interesting to show those images here in Taiwan, with its undecided status.

The Otolith Group’s project in the biennial is called ‘Daughter Products. It’s basically from the family archive of one of the group members. It shows a delegation of Indian women who are communists. You see them in different settings, visiting other countries. It also belongs to this internationalist moment aspiring a different kind of universality that is now largely dead: you see them in China, Russia and also in areas that were not socialist. It is very much complementing the ‘Independence Day’ project of Jafri. It shows another moment of aspiration when a certain scheme of modernity was still working, like the idea of progress, division between the socialist and the capitalist worlds : these are ghosts from the Cold War era that are not quite silent ghosts which are being spoken about in this project.

The biennial will also show Joachim Koester’s work. His work is not so much about what you see, but what you don’t see in this reading. In all his work, he sets up a certain research, like a historical research. Then the research or the story and the image become two components ; there is a tension between what you know, the story you tell and the image you see. For the Taipei Biennial, his research is about opium. One part of the story is trying to find the traces of opium trade in Calcutta which was the main base for the British-East India Company for the opium trade. He found almost nothing except a building called ‘Nanking Restaurant’. You see a photo of this restaurant. Another photo is the poppy flower with which we make opium. Along with the series of images, there goes a text describing the sort of relation between the terror in modernity : the colonial terror or the terror of opium that were part of the history, and its relation to the delirium of smoking opium. What he is interested in is the technology of photography on the one hand and the inscriptions into the mind on the other hand. What are the dreams that you dream under the influence of opium and what is the kind of the shape of dream that has to do with what you see and don’t see in a photograph? The work consists of very few photographs and a text.

As for Luis Jakob, he makes collections of images, like series of collages made with found images, It is called ‘Album’. He has created about ten such ‘Albums’ ; each one consists of about fifty pages. They have certain focuses such as the expressive body. The pages will be shown in a long series on the wall. It’s this kind of catalogue of gestures, but the gestures bring every attempt at classification to its limits – they are ecstatic in a certain sense, and can help us understand the body as a social body, as a collective body. But there is never any specific story. You are left to your own associations and finding different connections between motifs.

Q Today, many artists don’t work solely with one medium. Regarding photography, it is often integrated into installation works or as a means of archiving. For you, what is the role or place of photography in contemporary art ?

 A For me, where photograph becomes always interesting in relation to artistic practice is this ambivalence that you can read it as an indexical trace of something, as a sort of document, but also as the exact opposite. The tradition of the latter would be the surrealist magazine called ‘Documents’ (Editor’s note : The original French title means ‘Documents’ in English) founded by Bataille and his friends. Rather than confirming an evidence, the way they used photography reveals to the viewer something in all photography that disturbs the very idea of reality and its ‘order’. It’s always about putting everything into question. Today, many conceptual photographic practices can also be traced back to certain photographic traditions. For example, some people claim that Chang Chao-Tang is conceptual artist. His pictures in the 1970s represent a certain conceptual photography. I still think that there is a lot to explore in terms of this conceptual photography : creating a context for an image and perceiving how the image changes in it. We can think of photography’s role as similar to that of the imagination: it is not to settle and fix the fleeting moment or the imaginary, but to make the settled and fixed strange, and imaginative again. This is where the politics of art is to be found: in the conditions of fixation and change.

(Taipei Biennial 2012: http://www.taipeibiennial.org/2012/2012TB_English.html)

 Anselm Franke is an independent curator and freelance writer based in Berlin. He worked in the fields of theater, television and film and has collaborated with Christoph Schlingensief who represented Germany in the Venice Biennale in 2011. As a curator, he worked for KW Institute for Contemporary Art in Berlin (2001-2006) and was director of Extra City Kunsthal Antwerp (2006-2010) and co-curated Manifesta 7 and the 1st Brussels Biennial. He is the editor of several publications and artist books, and a contributor to e-flux journal. Since 2005, he has been co-curator (along with Stephanie Schulte Strathaus) of the Forum Expanded of the International Film Festival Berlin.

(The interview was first published on http://www.vopmagazine.com/post/31343517867/taipei-biennial-anselm-franke An edited Chinese version was first published on ”Voices of Photography” bi-monthly, August issue 2012, Taiwan.)

From Here.

7/11/12

The structures of art. An interview with Mario García Torres MONTSE BADIA ; 2012

Mario García Torres works with very specific elements (hidden stories, rumours or un-clarified details) from the history of art, film, other artists, events from the past, etc. These investigations transform into stories that can take the form of diaporamas, videos, books, curated exhibitions or postcards, to mention just a few of the possibilities. Underlining a stance between critical and poetic that vindicates the element of the subjective, in the following interview, Mario García Torres talks about the reasons for choosing his formats for production and presentation, his relation with the Internet and the structures of art, and his negotiated comfort with the art system.



Montse Badia: In your projects there is a diversity regarding forms of production/presentation/distribution. I’m thinking of two examples: “Alguna vez has visto la nieve caer” (Have you ever seen snow) (2010), a piece in which, on the one hand, all the research into Hotel One and Kabul has been carried out from your home computer, via the Internet, without the need to travel to Afghanistan, and on the other, the interesting feature that it is a diaporama, that could also function as a narrative. Another case: is your exhibition at the Jeu de Paume, where you intervened in the bookshop, inserting postcards into some of the books. I would like to know how you decide the form or channel for presentation that you use for each one of your pieces. 

Mario García Torres: My practice is not defined by my commitment or development of a medium. Each project has a distinct nature and the medium in which each aesthetic transaction is distributed is governed, in my point of view, by being the most efficient depending on its nature. My work in general explores the structures of art and the way in which these structures make possible this thing that we call art. My approach ranges from historical investigations into the practice of other artists to personal and intimate reflections about the negotiation of my practice in the art system. As you mentioned, "Alguna vez..." and the intervention in the bookshop at the Jeu de Paume are very different in nature. The first is the result of a long investigation –it is worth noting one not done exclusively on the computer– into the history of Boetti in Afghanistan, and specifically the hotel that he managed in Kabul during the seventies. The intervention in the Jeu de Paume was the extension of another project – the ones that I call more personal, intimate and immediate, the majority of which take place in the studio – one that I have now been doing for several years. It consists of each time I go on a work trip and find myself in a hotel where there are sheets of headed notepaper, I sit down for a moment and reflect about what I have done as an artist, as well as the future of my work, and I write a promise on the paper. It is more or less always the same phrase, a version of: “ I promise to give the best of myself in the years to come”. There must be forty or fifty of these sheets in existence and the project that continues today, consists of a collection of these promises. This project exists as I’ve described it, but also in a musical form – the explanation of the project became the words for a song that I commissioned from a musician friend, Mario López Landa – and a number of postcards, illustrating the modes of transport (airplanes, boats, buses) that had taken me to work, on which I had written the same phrase were distributed in the bookshop of the Jeu de Paume. I aimed for the discovery of these postcards to be a surprise, and not on the wall as is customary, in the way that the headed sheets are exhibited.

 

MB: To investigate the structures of art sometimes you develop projects, books or curate exhibitions. In the case of the show "Objetos para un rato de inercia" (Objects for a moment of inertia), that took place in the Elba Benítez gallery in Madrid and which brought together works by David Askevold, Alighiero e Boetti, Luis Camnitzer, Barry Le Va and Francesc Torres. The declaration of principles was clear: "History, despite its insistence on the contrary, pertains to the present. History is always being made. It is a process not a result. History, and the writing of History, are one and the same thing." Is it a way of activating propositions that took place in the past, of which only the record or narrations are left? Do the historic investigations serve to understand the present better? 

MGT: Definitely. If it wasn´t for the fact that I believe that each historic narrative, that I use as an excuse to generate another narrative, didn´t have an impact on our contemporaneity their wouldn´t be any reason to use them. In this sense, my initiatives are a conversation between my personal interests, with the understanding that I do them through a subjectivity that is situated in the present, as well as an interest in the more complex range of art that makes it possible for my work to exist. In this sense, it’s not just me as a person that activates these narratives, but a more complex system that supports the need for this revision.

MB: Your works function perfectly as stories, you meticulously investigate events, details about other artists’ projects, rumours and from there elaborate a history, a story in which the objective data and your interpretation coexist, sometimes endowed with a certain poetics. What is your stance in relation to more recent art history, to what is told, what is omitted and what is very superficially explained?

MGT: My pieces are very personal narratives that have to do with sharing my own experiences, desire or interest in a specific history. In this sense I see it as a way of making history, though very different from the one that pretends to tell the truth. Perhaps my narratives function as complements to those more official ones, as it is these details that are omitted that, most of the time, catch my attention.

MB: What is your working methodology?

MGT: When a piece is exhibited, a long time has passed from the moment when the episode in question excited me. The majority of times I begin an investigation, not very methodologically, about something that interests me and afterwards, at some point, I see the potential for it to convert into something that would be interesting to recount more publicly. The majority of times I rely on these things that have drawn my attention, the notes in a box on my desk and, little by little, different invitations end up also defining which ones are made and presented in specific temporal or geographic situations.

MB: What are the main points of confluence and also differences between your role as an artist and when you expand it on occasion to become curator of exhibitions?

MGT: To me there don’t seem to be that many differences. I am an artist, and my interventions as a curator have to do with looking for a different way of sharing my interests. Sometimes it can seem more to the point to make an exhibition that tells the story in a more personal manner, hence the exhibitions. But in reality I see it all as a single body of work.

MB: You often cite works or parts of work that are already made to begin your own process. Would you allow your works also to become the object of citations, appropriations, re-enactments or revisions?

MGT: It would be an honour if somebody one day saw them this way, and would continue these narratives, in whatever manner, to know that in some place in the world someone might continue to be interested. In the end, one works just for this to find people who have similar interests. I think that in the end my work comes down to this.

MB: Are you concerned about the notion of truth? Do you think that truth is possible in art?

MGT: No, I have absolutely no interest.

MB: What is your relation with the Internet, for you, is it a tool for research, communication or dissemination?

MGT: Obviously it is always my first point of contact with a subject and many times it leads me to investigate things in a less methodological way, a richer way. It situates normal people, everyday people, at the same level as books and official sources. Internet is present all the time, and I don´t blame it for often being wrong. I like it. What better way to divert an investigation towards something contradictory or further from the truth. It is there that one finds relations that potentially become something interesting, in the weaving of a new way of telling a story.

MB: Many of the works that you make at present could be disseminated perfectly via the Internet however they tend to be shown within the parameters of the institution. Have you ever thought about sometimes using the possibility of other routes to show and distribute your work?

MGT: I’ve never thought about it in depth. I believe that in the end I’m interested in the experiential part of art however contradictory that might seem. The use of films and slides, for example, has to do with having a cinematic experience, which would be lost if it was seen on a small monitor. I believe that there are pieces that can be disseminated on the Internet, but not the majority of mine. I am as concerned about the experience, as about the data within them.

MB: Do you think that the institutional framework (museums, art centres and also big events like Documenta or international biennales) is flexible and does it adapt to the new needs required by artistic practices?

MGT: Yes, it doesn’t trouble me. I believe that I have constantly tried to use this framework to talk about what I want to. Obviously there are limitations, but there is also a lot of flexibility. I believe that up until now, each time they have invited me to exhibit in a biennale or an exhibition of this type, I have ended up doing my work elsewhere. For me the work exists where it is executed and not where it is exhibited. That’s the least of it.


From A-Desk.

30/7/12

To compile the pictures "without memory", Lúa Coderch, 2009


This compilation comes from the family albums. I have collected only those photos of which no one can tell no longer the identity of the sitters, by whom or where they were taken (with the exception of those places recognizable by anyone).



to compile the pictures "without memory"| 2009 | collection of 30 photographs, with two backs and an inverted negative | variable dimensions

To see the collection, go here. (founded in the great project Constel.lacions familiars curated by Herionas de la cultura).

7/4/12

NIRVANA; Jason Lazarus



 Jason Lazarus has a really good work over the personal photopraphy archives, like this one of NIRVANA or Too Hard to Keep.

9/3/12

Taller Future Timeline a cargo de Regina de Miguel

Es un placer anunciar que está abierta la inscripción para el taller Future Timeline de Regina de Miguel en el (...) Ciencia, Territorio y Narrativas Subjetivas que me seleccionaron dentro de la convocatoria de comisariado en Can Felipa 2011.


Taller en el marco de (…)Ciencia, Territorio y narrativas subjetivas
Calendario: 26, 27 y 28 de abril. De 16:00 a 20:00.
Lugar: Hangar

Inscripciones: La matrícula es gratuita y se aceptan inscripciones hasta completar aforo. Para inscribirte envía un e-mail a cienciaterritorio@googlemail.com con tu teléfono, nombre y apellidos, Cv, DNI y un breve texto de motivación explicando porque te gustaría asistir al taller.

… un día necesitaremos arqueólogos para que nos ayuden a adivinar los argumentos originales hasta de las películas clásicas.
William Gibson, Mundo Espejo.
Siendo así, este principio no sólo augura el fin de la utopía como forma, sino también de la ciencia ficción en general, al afirmar que hasta nuestras imaginaciones más desatadas no son más que constructos compuestos de fragmentos y trozos del aquí y el ahora: “Cuando Homero se formó la idea de la Quimera, no hizo más que unir en un solo animal partes correspondientes a distintos animales: cabeza de león, cuerpo de cabra y rabo de serpiente”. En el plano social esto significa que nuestra imaginación es rehén de nuestros modos de producción.
Frederic Jameson, Arqueologías del futuro. El deseo llamado utopía y otras aproximaciones de ciencia ficción.
1.Presentación:
Por distintas razones hace mucho que no albergamos visiones milagrosas y utópicas en relación a las promesas de progreso tecnológico y científico por venir. Las imágenes de la ingente producción, tanto literaria como cinematográfica, que el género ciencia ficción nos ha suministrado al respecto, han resultado ser el futuro de lo que ya inevitablemente, es nuestro pasado. De modo que al analizarlas realizamos una suerte de “arqueología del futuro”.

Teniendo en cuenta que los relatos etnocéntricos sobre un progreso tecnocientífico vienen dados históricamente desde el prisma de la razón y su avance ininterrumpido, tanto Foucault como el filósofo de la ciencia, P. Feyerabend proponen un cuestionamiento al retrato discursivo construido por filósofos y metodólogos en torno a los procedimientos del quehacer científico. Feyerabend afirmaba que la historia de la ciencia es tan compleja y posee infinitos errores como las ideas que contiene, sin embargo ha sido reconstruida bajo la forma de un “relato” objetivo y accesible a un planteamiento que conforma una arquitectura de reglas estrictas y fijas.

Desde estos planteamientos podemos considerar el discurso de la ciencia como una ficción entre otras tantas, capaz de producir un “efecto de verdad” (como todos los efectos literarios), a partir de características textuales como el empleo de los tiempos verbales, estructura en las frases, etc.

Siguiendo a F. Jameson, encontramos un claro ejemplo en la novela Solaris de Stanislav Lem. En ella el autor proyecta una biblioteca completa con todos los posibles enfoques para el estudio del desconocido planeta. “Cada teoría en ella recoge el desarrollo y el final del estancamiento de cada nueva línea de investigación científica y, de hecho, en la inmensa variedad lógica de las teorías y escuelas, y en el extraordinario ingenio y la energía mental invertidos en ellos, Lem nos ha dado una representación virtual de la propia ciencia, la ciencia “pura” y no sólo el conocimiento, con una sociología en miniatura de los científicos, una historia de su financiación, y también una explicación de la función de los experimentos y la publicación científica”.
Así pues se precisan estrategias de retrospección y reescritura de los hechos que pueden resultar desde el anarquismo epistemológico o anarqueología.

2. Propuesta de taller:
La línea de trabajo que propone Regina de Miguel se inserta en la metodología de investigación y trabajo que ha experimentado en su último proyecto Nouvelle sciencie vague fiction.
Los objetivos del taller se dirigen a generar narraciones subjetivas y de intersección de la práctica artística en otras áreas de conocimiento a partir de la revisión de diversos materiales pertenecientes al ámbito de la ciencia ficción o tangenciales que tratan de imaginar o proponen un futuro. A partir de ahí se realizará un mapa conceptual o timeline no lineal que recoja visiones generadas desde los relatos ficcionales, hechos reales y las narrativas generadas en el propio taller.

La dinámica será la siguiente:
a.) Presentación del proyecto.
b.) Trabajo previo con materiales de archivo online (ver http://futuretimeline.tumblr.com/ y
http://nouvellesciencevaguefiction.tumblr.com/). El primero recogerá un archivo – línea histórica de materiales (películas, libros, música, etc… susceptibles como caso de estudio de arqueología del futuro). El segundo ofrece material relativo al proyecto Nouvelle Science Vague Fiction y orientará en la metodología de trabajo e investigación.
c.) Puesta en común de propuestas generadas a partir de la revisión de materiales
(imágenes, escritos, etc…)
d.) Realización de la Timeline.
e.) Publicación.

Regina de Miguel (Málaga, 1977)
Artista y productora cultural. Desarrolla su trabajo en torno a conexiones entre situaciones de análisis y percepción científica en cuanto conocimiento objetivo (escalas de verosimilitud), aprendizaje no experiencial derivado del imaginario tecnológico (extrañamiento y proyección) y grados de formación de consciencia ideal y crítica (nuevas formas de orientación). Parte de su producción ha abordado fundamentalmente las estrategias de las formaciones de deseo, crisis de sentido subjetivo, y su visualización como paisaje psicosocial en forma de cartografías. En el mismo sentido también analiza la transferencia especulativa en los instrumentos de aprendizaje científicos y culturales.

Colabora periódicamente con el grupo de trabajo A user´s guide (http://ausersguide.tumblr.com/), un proyecto dedicado al backstage del arte y la producción cultural. También forma parte de Correspondencias desde Eyjafjalla (http://eyjafjalla.org/) un proyecto de reflexión sobre la idea de Europa.

Su trabajo ha sido mostrado en instituciones como Artium, La Panera, Musac, La casa Encendida y se encuentra en las colecciones del Museo Vasco de Arte contemporáneo (Artium), Fundación Arco, CGAC, Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía.
Para más información: http://reginademiguel.net/
Future Timeline en Hangar forma parte de (…) Ciencia, territorio y narrativas subjetivas, es un proyecto de Lorenzo Sandoval para la Convocatoria 2011 de comisariado de Can Felipa.

(…),Ciencia, territorio y narrativas subjetivas
El proyecto (…),Ciencia, territorio y narrativas subjetivas, busca trabajar sobre el potencial transformador de las narrativas subjetivas planteado por algunas mujeres que analizan, ficcionan y cuestionan los modelos de representación del territorio y de la ciencia. Se trata de generar una psicogeografía compleja que debate los roles y los formatos de la investigación historiográfica de las imágenes. Este proyecto se construye como una indagación en curso presentada en formatos variables.
En esta ocasión, la exposición adopta el título de Explorations in the void escogido por los participantes del taller Gender Art Net. Este es uno de los resultados de los ejercicios de taxonomía experimental del workshop, impartido en enero por María Ptqk y Nicolas Malevé en Hangar.
Exposición: Expeditions to the Void.
Inauguración: 24 – 04 – 2012. Can Felipa.
Con .Teresa Solar, Paloma Polo, Regina de Miguel, Claire L. Evans y Gender Art Net.
Workshops: .Gender Art Net (María PTQK y Nicolas Malevé) y Future Timeline (Regina de Miguel)
Conferencias:  25 – 04 – 2012. Museu  Blau.
Juan Vicente Aliaga, Marta Rebollo, Constantvzw
El mail de contacto para las incripciones es: cienciaterritorio@googlemail.com

19/2/12

Matthew Cusick

p7 (that is that)
Defaced book page

p8 (still hard)
Defaced book page

Shauna, 2011
Inlaid maps, acrylic, on panel



Kara's Wave, 2009
Inlaid maps, acrylic, on panel



Course of Empire (Mixmaster 1), 2003
Inlaid maps, acrylic, on panel


Great works from  Matthew Cusick.
From Antonio R. Montesinos

17/2/12

Ashkan Honarvar

some works of 2012.




The saying goes that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. It occurs in places you least expect.
Revealing its art in the human body, but also cruelly absent in the presence of deformations and scars.
Ashkan Honarvar (1980) depicts an undeniable, unavoidable beauty by accepting the darker sides of human ‘nature’.
The body, torn by acts of war, exploited by the sex industry or used as a tool for seeking identity, is
the focal point of his work.This constitutes a search for a universal representation of the evil latent in every human,
providing an opportunity for reflection. His aesthetic dissection has an intriguing macabre nature,
which opens the images to interpretation.
Honarvar’s almost empiric exploration of the human condition knows no bounds. Its goal; the indefinable core.
Titus Verheijen

More here.

16/2/12

Manifesto for an Active Archive


This Manifesto is a work in progress. The text introduces the ideas and motivations behind the Active Archive project lead by Constant in collaboration with Arteleku, and was initiated in 2006. This project aims at creating a free software platform to connect practices of library, media library, publications on paper (as magazines, books, catalogues), productions of audio-visual objects, events, workshops, discursive productions, etc. Practices which can take place on line or in various geographical places, and which can be at various stages of visibility for reasons of rights of access or for reasons of research and privacy conditions. The development will take place during 2008-2009 and regular workshops will be organised to stimulate dialog between future users, developers and cultural workers and researchers. 


Decentralizing the archive

When we want to share with other cultural associations and groups/institutions, the challenge is as follows: how do "We" share information "Together", how do we channel information through each others' network, under which conditions? How do we produce digital content together? To develop common infrastructures, we will need to discuss what kind of licensing we prefer, and work on norms and a common agreement on formats. We also need to find a shared understanding of classifications or maybe first question existing ones.
Digital cultural archives today fall into two categories: fragmented archives and over-centralized archives. Fragmented archives look like isolated islands. Every institution sits on top of its treasure and tries to regulate and control the way it is used with at most offering a timid RSS feed. Centralized archives gather collections and resources from different origins but disconnect the material from its original context. Accessibility and searchability come at the cost of legitimisation.
An active archive is a decentralized archive which is not only open for reading but also for re-appropriation, comment, divergences, transformations. This manifesto is a plea for such a decentralized archive: an archive constituted from many sites and voices that keep their own contexts without fear of sharing, mirroring, connecting and using common protocols.


A project lead by Constantvzw.
Read it complete here.