bric 23 路 24 april 2010 london BRIC_Covers singole.indd 1
23/03/10 08:51
lot 340. vik muniz
BRIC_Covers singole.indd 2
23/03/10 08:54
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 3
19/03/10 20:35
lot 6. erik bulatov
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 4
19/03/10 20:35
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 5
19/03/10 20:35
lot 18. subodh gupta
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 6
19/03/10 20:36
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 7
19/03/10 20:36
lot 9. zhang xiaogang
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 8
19/03/10 20:36
BRIC_VISUAL_pp3-9.indd 9
19/03/10 20:36
contentS Simon de pury
The Chairman on the brave new (art) world of BRIC ...page 16
adriana varejÃo
Close encounters in a Rio de Janeiro artist’s studio ...page 38
cildo meireleS
The atmospheric world of a South American art superstar ...page 60
object leSSon
Unfolding the history of Lot 15 ...page 74
caetano veloSo
Celebrating the beating heart of Brazil ...page 116
emilia & ilya kabakov A homage to a loving Russian collaboration ...page 18
nikolai poliSSky
Monuments and moonshine: an insider's view on an ‘artist of the people’ ...page 76
nikolay bakharev Portrait of an intimate photographer ...page 90
10
BRIC_Content_10-13.indd 10
22/03/10 15:18
contentS object leSSon
Duchamp meets Malevich: Lot 25 ...page 94
nonna materkova From finance to philanthropy ...page 126
nitin Sawhney Music without frontiers ...page 32
100% extra pulp
The crazy, colourful world of Indian pulp fiction ...page 56
amit chaudhuri A manifesto for the mundane ...page 70
anSuman biSwaS
An inspiring performance artist bares more than just his soul ...page 102
raqib Shaw
Beneath the glittering surfaces with a painter of deadly beauty ...page 120
object leSSon A stroll around Lot 20 ...page 138
11
BRIC_Content_10-13.indd 11
22/03/10 15:18
contentS
object leSSon A potted history of Lot 2 ...page 46
Gene Sherman
A passionate collector on the Pacific Rim ...page 48
yin xiuzhen
In conversation, in MoMA, with the rising star of Chinese art ...page 84
claire hSu
The co-founder and executive director of the Asia Art Archive on archiving the future ...page 96
ai weiwei & uli SiGG A heart-to-heart with two art stars ...page 132
newS
What’s happening in the international art world ...page 140
buyerS Guide
How to buy and whom to contact at Phillips de Pury ...page 532
12
BRIC_Content_10-13.indd 12
22/03/10 15:18
auctionS & eventS
bric
23 april 5pm: eveninG Sale Lots 1 – 32...page 144
24 april 11am: china Lots 33 – 154 ...page 220
1pm: india Lots 155 – 224 ...page 302
3pm: ruSSia Lots 225 – 331 ...page 350
5pm: brazil Lots 332 – 438 ...page 442
viewinG & SaleS
Sunday 18 April – Friday 23 April, 10am – 6pm at the Saatchi Gallery, Duke of York’s HQ, King’s Road, London SW3 4SQ
cultural SympoSium
During BRIC week, Phillips de Pury & Company will host an exciting series of events with key figures from the art world. For details see www.phillipsdepury.com
important note to buyers The works in this sale will not be available for collection on the day of the auction. All works will be transferred to our Fine Art Storage Facility and will be ready for collection on Tuesday 27 April. Please refer to the Guide for Prospective Buyers and Conditions of Sale at the back of this catalogue for further information. 13
BRIC_Content_10-13.indd 13
22/03/10 15:18
Contributors
Fernando Young Brasileiro is a photographer based in Rio de Janeiro. He navigates between the realm of cinematography and lighting to compose his still photographs. He is one of the bold new voices among Brazil’s new generation of photographers.
amit Chaudhuri’s latest novel, The Immortals, was a New Yorker Book of the Year, and Critics’ Choice, Best Books of 2009, in the Boston Globe and the Irish Times. It has been shortlisted for the Commonwealth Writers Prize for Best Book. He is also an internationally acclaimed essayist and musician. He is Professor of Contemporary Literature at the University of East Anglia, and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature.
iggY Cortez is assistant to the Editor for Phillips de Pury & Company’s Themes Sales Catalogue. He has recently finished an MA with Distinction from the Courtauld Institute of Art and has a BA with Honours in Art History from Columbia University. He also serves as the Content and Events Manager for the International Association of Art Critics.
Charles darwent has been art critic of the Independent on Sunday since 1999. He was born and raised in Trinidad, educated at Cambridge and London and is co-author, with Tania Kovats, of The Drawing Book (Black Dog). He is currently working on a book on Mondrian’s last years.
Brian dillon is the author of Tormented Hope: Nine Hypochondriac Lives (Penguin, 2009) and In the Dark Room (Penguin, 2005). He is UK editor of Cabinet magazine and his writing has appeared in frieze, Artforum, Art Review, Aperture, the London Review of Books and the Guardian. He is a research fellow at the University of Kent.
Piers gough is a founding partner of CZWG Architects Llp. The practice has designed some of the most exciting and memorable buildings around Britain. Piers was appointed a CBE for services to architecture in the 1998 Queen’s Birthday Honours List. He was elected a Royal Academician in 2002. He is currently a Commissioner of CABE.
Paul green is a multi-awardwinning photographer based in Sydney. He collaborates with a number of artists including Mike Parr, Ken Unsworth, Tim Storrier & Pierre Huyghe to produce photographic works that have been exhibited extensively. He has recently completed a Kaldor Public Art Project with Gilbert & George on their visit to Australia. Paul’s personal work can be found in many collections including the Art Gallery of NSW and the Museum of Sydney.
sarah Kent gained an international reputation as art critic of Time Out in London. In the late 1970s she was Director of Exhibitions at London’s ICA, where she staged over 50 exhibitions. She left Time Out in November 2006 to be a freelance writer and broadcaster. She writes catalogues for numerous galleries and has been on many juries for prizes including the Turner Prize. Her books include Shark-Infested Waters: The Saatchi Collection of British Art in the 90s.
14
BRIC_Contrib_A_014-015.indd 14
19/03/10 09:14
Contributors
JongChul lee was born and raised in South Korea. His name, which means ‘religion and philosophy’, has been an appropriate predictor of his interests: He studied Buddhism and Sculpture at Dongguk University (2005) and photography at the New England School of Photography (2007). Through his work, Jongchul explores the interplay between self and surrounding. He currently lives in New York City.
ian maCmillan is a writer and documentary film-maker. He specialises in films on the arts and culture, which have been shown on the BBC and Channel 4 in the UK, and in museums across the world. He has twice been honoured with a BAFTA award, and has most recently directed films on the poetry of T.S. Eliot and Britain's artists from the World Wars. He lives in Brixton, London.
elaine w. ng is Publisher and Editor of ArtAsiaPacific magazine in New York, the 17-year-old journal dedicated to contemporary art from Asia, the Pacific and the Middle East.
milena orlova is a Moscowbased art-critic and the Editor-inChief of ARTCHRONIKA, Russia’s leading art magazine. She started to work as journalist in 1990 focusing on new artists. Her articles were published in popular magazines including Russian Vogue and JQ. From 1997 to 2009 she was the Deputy Editor of Kommersant newspaper’s culture section. Her dream is to make the contemporary Russian art scene more widely known in the world.
BarBara PollaCK is the author of The Wild, Wild East: An American Art Critic’s Adventures in China, published this May by Timezone 8. She has been covering the art scene in China since the late 1980s for numerous publications including Vanity Fair, the New York Times, Artnews and Art & Auction. She was awarded the 2008 Andy Warhol/Creative Capital arts writers’ grant and a fellowship from the Asian Cultural Council in 2006.
Ben roBerts is a fine art and portrait photographer based in Bournemouth. In 2009, Ben was the recipient of the British Journal of Photography’s Project Assistance Award, and has recently been named in Photo District News’ list of 30 New and Emerging Photographers to Watch in 2010. Ben is a member of the Picturetank Co-operative in Paris.
Jason sChmidt is a New York-based photographer who has photographed over 500 artists in their studios during the past 12 years or so. He is finishing his second book on the subject, entitled Artists 2.
Karen wright the co-founder and long-term editor of Modern Painters is now Senior Editor at Phillips de Pury & Company, creating magazines for their theme sales. She enjoys continuing to indulge her passion for visiting artists in their studios, and her new role – interviewing collectors and chronicling their passionate commitment to, and enthusiasm for their collections.
15
BRIC_Contrib_A_014-015.indd 15
18/03/10 11:13
BRIC_SDP_16-17.indd 16
18/03/10 13:38
BRIC is a term that was first used in 2001 by Jim O'Neill, chief economist at Goldman Sachs. The four letters stand for Brazil, Russia, India and China, the main emerging economies. Since then you cannot open the Financial Times or Wall Street Journal without there being extensive coverage on the dynamic BRIC economies. Floriane de Saint Pierre, the star head hunter of the luxury industry, rightly pointed out that it is condescending to speak of emerging economies but far more appropriate to speak of fast-growing economies. Whenever there is a strong economic upturn in a region or a country it goes hand in hand with a vibrant creative surge in the artistic areas. This is nowhere as obvious as in Brazil, Russia, India and China. It therefore seemed to us more than overdue to, for the very first time, put the spotlight on the extraordinary cultural achievements of the BRIC countries. In the art world, like in the business world, decades of ‘westernization’ are rapidly being replaced by an ‘easternization’. We are most grateful to Charles Saatchi, the ultimate taste maker in the contemporary art world, to let us use the totality of his fabulous Saatchi Gallery to display a rich sampling of the best that BRIC contemporary culture has to offer. While we will devote an unprecedented amount of gallery space to display the contents of this sale we have decided to also devote an unprecedented amount of editorial space in the catalog. Thanks to our able colleague Karen Wright we have included articles, amongst others, on Ilya and Emilia Kabakov, the towering Russian artists, and to Ai WeiWei, the outstanding Chinese artist whose recent one-man show at the Haus der Kunst is one of the best exhibitions I have ever seen. Uli Sigg is the pioneer collector who is at the centre of the international interest for contemporary art from China. Music is also a seminal part of contemporary culture. Thanks to Alban de Pury we have been able to secure the unique talents of Nitin Sawhney and of Gilles Peterson, the best world music DJ, who will both perform at the opening party for BRIC.
SIMON de PURY ChaIRMaN, PhIllIPS de PURY & COMPaNY
17
BRIC_SDP_16-17.indd 17
18/03/10 13:38
Emilia & ilya kabakov loving collaborators words karen wright | PhotograPhs jason schmidt
Ilya and Emilia Kabakov photographed in Mattituck, Long Island, 19 February 2010
BRIC_Kabakov_corrs_18-21.indd 18
18/03/10 10:44
BRIC_Kabakov_corrs_18-21.indd 19
18/03/10 10:44
BRIC_Kabakov_corrs_18-21.indd 20
18/03/10 10:44
«my drEam was to bElong to EuropEan culturE, a drEam that was practically unattainablE during most of my lifE»
6 June 1997 It is a hot June day and I am in Venice, already exhausted by the sheer quantity of art in the Giardini at the Biennale. I am initially underwhelmed by the plethora of videos and sundry wall-pieces. But then I enter an installation which, I read later, is Ilya and Emilia Kabakov’s We Were in Kyoto. This is a deceptively simple piece – I walk up a narrow wooden staircase and turn a bend in the passage. Suddenly, I am transported to Japan, standing on a bridge and peering into a modest rock garden. Fluttering down from above are the beginnings of what looks like a nocturnal snowstorm, the flakes reflected in what appear to be street lights.The longer I stand contemplating the garden, the more I am bedecked with snow, or are they petals? As I exit the Arsenale, I automatically brush the confetti snow off my clothes, but the flakes constantly reappear as I move around la Serenissima: I see them floating in small canals and resting on people’s shoulders in fashionable bars. All of us are decorated with art and temporarily united by it. I leave Venice intrigued and determined to find out more about the Kabakovs. How could such a simple concept have such an impact, and stand out, beacon-like from the noisy interference of its artistic neighbours?
Spring 2005 I am in a car travelling through buffeting winds to Mattituck on the northern tip of Long Island, where I have arranged to interview the Kabakovs for the magazine Modern Painters. I arrive after a long trip from NewYork City, to be greeted warmly by Emilia and Ilya. Both are small in stature and share wide, beaming smiles. In the air is the unmistakable smell of chicken soup, an aroma familiar from my childhood. Over welcoming, steaming bowls of the broth with pillowy matzo balls, Ilya, Emilia and I cement a friendship that has continued ever since. Both Emilia and Ilya Kabakov were born in the same hospital in Dnipropetrovsk, a Ukrainian town on the Dnieper river – Ilya in 1933, and Emilia in 1945. Though now very much a collaborative unit, it was Ilya who first established a reputation as a major visual artist. After his family became refugees in 1941, they travelled widely in the Soviet Union, and Ilya began attending the itinerant Leningrad Academy of Arts in 1943, before moving to the Moscow Art School after the war. Formative artistic years spent in the Russian capital made such an impression on Ilya that, while it is technically correct to refer to him
as a Ukrainian Jew, he considers himself a Muscovite. But even so, it is impossible to pin him down exactly. ‘I never had, and still don’t have, a clearly defined sense of racial belonging,’ he has said. ‘I see myself a little like a stray dog. My mentality is Soviet, my birthplace is the Ukraine, my parents are Jewish, my school education and my language are Russian. My dream was to belong to European culture, a dream that was practically unattainable during most of my life… One of the qualities I saw in the Soviet people was the feeling of their own inadequacy, the feeling that somewhere beyond the border there existed a real, more authentic life. It’s like a child who doesn’t love his parents: the neighbour’s soup always tastes better.’ In 1951, Ilya joined the faculty of Graphic Arts at the Moscow Surikov Art Academy, and he then started illustrating children’s books to make a living. But throughout the 1950s he experimented with abstraction in a large body of drawings – the beginnings of the fine art activity that we now regard as his primary creative expression, but which was then, as he defines it, ‘work for myself’. Throughout the 1960s, Kabakov made hundreds of drawings and the occasional painting, showing them sporadically in unofficial improvised exhibitions, whilst forging a significant career as a children’s illustrator. Having joined the Soviet artists’ union, he was able to rent working spaces, and eventually to obtain a purpose-built studio in the attic of an insurance company building on Sretenski Boulevard, which quickly became the focus for a group of artists named after that street. He soon embarked on a work that has in some ways defined his approach ever since, and would propel him to the centre of the group known as the Russian or Moscow Conceptualists. Between 1970 and 1974 he created Ten Characters, a group of ten different ‘albums’ each purportedly created by a different person. Each character had their own view of the world, often expressed in a demented or depressed way, and always from varying perspectives. The first, The Flying Komarov, for instance, depicts a character who awakes one morning to find the sky filled with flying people and carrots. Ilya explains that these flights of fancy were a normal reaction to the craziness of the Russian system. ‘Here in America, everyone is normal,’ he says. ‘But in the Soviet time, the whole life, the whole 300 million Soviet inhabitants were crazy, because the power structure was crazy. So the question was, what is
21
BRIC_Kabakov_corrs_18-21.indd 21
18/03/10 10:44
normal? When you are an artist and you live in an insane asylum and feel normal, that is the pathos. We were the cold observers. Common sense was the principle of the conceptualist.’ As well as the albums, Ilya also assumed various aliases to enable him to paint in different styles. These aliases include Charles Rosenthal, an academic painter born in the 19th century who discovers Kasimir Malevich and seeks to join academic figuration with Suprematism, and Igor Spivak, a contemporary artist whose more ironic juxtaposition of abstraction and figuration is a clever tool with which Ilya reflects on the ebb and flow of artistic concepts and ideals. When I ask Emilia about the use of aliases, she responds: ‘It’s an intellectual game that 20thcentury master Duchamp first created with Rrose Sélavy. For Ilya, it allows him to create an illusion. One can create as an outsider. It’s about gaining extra freedom through different identities.’ I ask which she thinks is his favourite. ‘I think Rosenthal,’ she replies, ‘as he’s extremely idealistic – full of hope for Russia’s future.’ Being with Ilya and Emilia, you soon identify their own different characters – Ilya the dreamer and Emilia the pragmatist. Partners in life since 1988, and married since 1992, they have been artistic collaborators since 1989. Emilia left Russia much earlier than Ilya, in 1973, going first to Israel and then Belgium before arriving in America, while Ilya left in 1987. They are distantly related: ‘Ilya’s father was the brother of my grandmother,’ explains Emilia. ‘I knew him. We shared houses in those days and I would come to my grandfather’s house in the summer and Ilya would be there. When I was 14, I told my mother I would marry him. There was an age difference though – Ilya is 12 years older.’ Emilia is clear that she and Ilya met at the right time – they had both ‘calmed down by the time they met, and could accept each other’s strengths’. Ilya decided to leave Russia in 1987 upon being offered the chance to go to Graz in Austria for a residency. Although he returned to Russia twice, he had made a crucial leap, and it showed in his work. The installations he had begun to
develop in Moscow would become his primary activity, and would grow increasingly ambitious. Immediately following his residency in Graz, he created a show in New York, and soon after lived for a year in Berlin. Major shows and commissions rolled in – the Kabakovs’ Toilet in the 1992 Documenta in Kassel was one of the hits of the event, and a big show at the Pompidou in Paris in 1995 cemented the couple’s position at the centre of the art world. By this time, the Kabakovs were based in New York, first in a TriBeCa loft, and later here in Long Island.
15 September 2008 I am on a plane bound for Moscow. It is a strange moment to be travelling: it is the day that will be remembered for Lehman Brothers going bankrupt and the meltdown of the financial world, and for the events at Sotheby’s, as Damien Hirst takes his work straight to auction. Will the art market take the same pounding as the banks? I am due to attend the opening of the Garage Center for Contemporary Culture. The new gallery has attracted massive coverage in the press, mainly focused on Daria Zhukova (known as Dasha), the partner of Roman Abramovich, the oil billionaire and, most famously, the owner of London soccer club Chelsea FC. The Garage’s first show is dedicated to the Kabakovs. Amazingly, this is the first time since 1988 that Ilya has shown his work in his former home city. It is my first trip to Russia. I am nervous about going to Russia. Growing up as a Jew in New York, I was constantly fed the American propaganda of ‘reds under the beds’. Would some rogue remnant of the KGB spirit me away from the party or would my experience be trouble free? I eventually arrive at the Baltschug Kempinski, where I am staying with the Kabakov party. The hotel may not be overly gaudy, but the prices are jaw-dropping – breakfast costs over 2,000 roubles (£45), tea more than 600 roubles (£13). Tonight I am prepared to sit in the comfortable gilded lobby sipping Campari, eating a ruinously expensive cheese toastie and watching the art world coming and going. I see the Kabakovs leave with American curator Rob Storr in tow,
with Emilia looking quietly glamorous and the self-effacing Ilya beaming. Udo Kittelmann, Director of the national museums in Berlin, Sam Keller, the ex-director of Art Basel and now the director of the Beyeler Gallery in Basel, Serpentine Gallery directors Hans Ulrich Obrist and Julia Peyton-Jones, the Kabakovs’ gallerists, Sean Kelly from New York and Thaddaeus Ropac from Paris and Salzburg, and Simon de Pury, the director of Phillips de Pury, all make an appearance. Six hours later and I am still there when the gilded guests are returning from their dinners at the Café Pushkin and elsewhere. As everyone returns from dinner, there is one topic that dominates our discussions – the events at Sotheby’s, where Hirst has improbably triumphed while crisis grips the world’s markets.
16 September 2008 I head for my first tour of the Garage. At the entrance to the galleries is a list of the three painters exhibiting: Charles Rosenthal, Igor Spivak and Ilya Kabakov. Ilya’s assumptions of identities are so persuasive that the critics with whom I am walking through the exhibition are convinced that there really are three artists. Even with my prior knowledge, I am almost persuaded too. I later encounter New York photographer Todd Eberle visiting in the show. He tells me firmly that the paintings (well over 200 in number) and installation of the museum (all 26 rooms, floors, walls and ceiling) were all done in the last three months. I try to convince him of the impossibility of this and tell him that Ilya works without a painting assistant. Eberle still stubbornly refuses to change his opinion. It’s both brilliant, comical and unsettling to be in an artwork that is being so misunderstood by the great and good around me. The effectiveness of the Kabakovs’ installation is due not just to the paintings themselves, but to the wall charts in both Russian and English, which form a crucial part of the project, and reinforce the same immaculately detailed multi-character theme. We learn, for example, that Rosenthal never sold a painting as a matter of principle because he thought the work was not
22
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 22
18/03/10 10:41
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 23
18/03/10 11:19
ÂŤthe art world is like a huge river which began somewhere in the past and keeps flowing towards the futureÂť
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 24
18/03/10 10:42
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 25
18/03/10 10:42
«the real problem is that russians live only for today. they are not interested in probing into their history and exploring their artistic roots»
worth selling, that he died young and that it was only after his death that a large stash of unfinished work was found in his studio. The ability to paint in different styles is important to Ilya in that it allows him to engage directly with both sides of the Russian schism of styles which began when Malevich painted his Black Square in 1915. Malevich’s work immediately became the symbol of modernism – his abstraction attempted to render academic figuration, and its later progeny Socialist Realism, passé and irrelevant. The debate between the academy and the modernists cast a shadow over Ilya’s formative years, so to address the subject, he invented Rosenthal, whom he made a teacher, all the better to explore the dynamics of this cultural rupture. It’s no coincidence that he leaves much of Rosenthal’s work palpably unfinished – seemingly blemished with large white flashes or fissures. The installation featuring Rosenthal, Spivak and Kabakov is called An Alternative History of Art. No wonder Ilya refers to these pieces as ‘total installations’ – the work’s success lies in allowing the viewer to become completely immersed in the various artists’ work, slowing them down, and creating a space for engagement with the characters through the paintings and the stories constructed around them. ‘The main actor in the total installation is the viewer,’ Ilya has said. ‘The whole installation is orientated towards his perception, and any point of the installation, any of its structures is orientated only toward the impression it should make on the viewer.’ The press conference for the Garage’s unveiling takes place in a lofty, vaulted space, which, I must say, comes as a relief after the deliberately claustrophobic rooms of the installation. Dominating this area is another piece by the Kabakovs, Red Wagon, first created in 1991. Like all the Kabakovs’ installations, the viewer can enter and walk through a thoroughly immersive experience, whose centrepiece is the wagon of the title, which is decorated with Socialist Realist paintings and features a utopian mural inside. Outside is an vast ladder stretching upwards, before eventually colliding and integrating with the ceiling-work. It addresses the Romantic, if ultimately futile ideals at the heart of Russian experience, the notion of reaching for stars that forever remain out of reach. The conference starts with the announcement that the Praemium Imperiale (Japan’s most prestigious art prize) for 2008 for sculpture has been awarded to the Kabakovs. Emilia has
decided that she will divide the 15m yen (£111,900) prize between three charities: a charity for children with heart disease (the cause of her niece’s death); an old age home near her house; and the Mattituck Public Library. She later opines that a ‘prize from God should be given back to the community’.
17 September 2009 The first reviews appear in the Moscow papers. They are not flattering towards the Kabakovs. ‘We do not need depressing art,’ they say, ‘that period of our life is behind us.’ When I ask Emilia about the reviews later she admits that Ilya was very hurt and immediately self-questioning: ‘Am I a bad artist – are these criticisms correct?’ he asked. I ask Ilya about the negative reaction to his shows, and he shrugs as if saddened by recent events. He says he was recalled to Russia to be given the Ordnance of Friendship medal, a medal bestowed exclusively to foreigners who have encouraged friendship with Russia. ‘I lost my country and didn’t like it and now I am in the opposite situation, and I have to represent my country. Before I was considered bad, I did a toilet where my people lived!’ He grimaces. ‘Now I am considered to be a good thing for Russia, a symbol of propaganda for my country.’ ‘The real problem is that Russians live only for today,’ Emilia tells me. ‘They are not interested in probing into their history and exploring their artistic roots. They are all desperate to leave Russia. Whether they are the billionaires or the men who live on the streets, they are united by their desire to leave.’ It’s a strange comparison with the mind set of Ilya, the dream-filled artist, and another indication as to why he chose to leave his home country behind. When Ilya was still in Moscow his studio was a meeting place for the thirty-odd fellow intellectuals and artists that formed his circle. ‘It was like showing to family,’ Emilia says. ‘In some ways, it was like hell. Every evening the group met and had a little bit of food, held readings and made exhibitions.’ Ilya goes on: ‘We made art for ourselves… It was like a relationship between mother and father, and making a drawing for them. There was no criterion being offered, “You kiss me, we dance together”, etcetera. We became used to only having positive criticism.’ These artists had created a ‘paradise’ for themselves, Emilia says, but it was an illusion – there were no real public exhibitions, no dialogue with artists elsewhere in the world. And after Glasnost, different problems emerged. ‘At first when the Soviet Union broke 26
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 26
18/03/10 10:42
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 27
18/03/10 10:42
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 28
18/03/10 10:42
«all artists, and in particular russian artists, work from fantasy»
up, they were close and friendly and there was a shared sense of comedy that held them together,’ Emilia says. ‘But when paradise failed it quickly became hell, as there was jealousy and animosity. The paradise did not survive and some discovered they were not good artists after all.’ After Ilya came to the States, he became part of a quite different artist community. He befriended many American artists, but perhaps engaged most with Donald Judd. The two first met in 1991, at the time of Judd’s exhibition at MAK, Vienna. When Ilya subsequently visited Marfa, Judd’s home, studio and exhibition space in Texas, he was struck by the ‘unbelievable combination of estrangement, similar to a holy place, and at the same time the attention to the life of the works there… there were no material things at all, none of the hubbub of everyday lives. It was a world devoid of all trivial and banal existence – a world for art.’ Ilya created School No. 6 (1993) as a gift to Judd’s Chinati Foundation in Marfa. Here, Kabakov invented an interior modelled after his childhood schoolroom, which is filled with an eerie abandonment and resonates with the past. Every detail is authentic, from postcards to textbooks and a fading poster of Lenin on the wall. It is a work which suggests an inability to escape from one’s personal and cultural history. ‘Ilya is obsessed by art,’ says Emilia. ‘He visits museums wherever we go and galleries as well. He is equally happy engaging with historical works as contemporary ones.’ But, she says, the biggest problem he encountered while he was in Russia was his lack of engagement on an international level. ‘For me, the art world is like a huge river,’ he has said, ‘which began somewhere in the past and keeps flowing towards the future.’ But for all Ilya’s exhaustive study of art from across the world and his desire to work on the highest international level, both he and Emilia admit that his work comes very much from a Russian mentality. ‘All artists, and in particular Russian artists, work from fantasy,’ Emilia says. There is a long and stressful wait to enter the Kabakovs’ installation at the Winzavod Centre for Contemporary Art, another thriving Moscow gallery dedicated to new Russian art, as we are barged aside aggressively by young Muscovites. Inside, in sharp contrast, is The Life of Flies (1992), a complex and intellectual installation which could be overly cerebral but for the beautiful drawings with indecipherable and mysterious Cyrillic texts alongside schematic diagrams of flies in yellow, black and white. The work is a metaphor for Russian society. ‘Russia is a country of phenomenal energy; there are
many people here who want to change the world; the country where utopia was built for the first time,’ Ilya says. ‘But the country failed, and now we know why. The civilization of flies lives over this country – and they feed on Russia’s energy. A man can understand the whole system through the civilization of flies.’ He is also toying here with the idea that the life cycle of a fly is so short – often just a couple of weeks, and even then they feed on shit and garbage. The last room is beautiful, as the flies have all ascended once more to heaven, or at least the ceiling. Emilia tells me that, like that of An Alternative History of Art, many of the journalists did not understand this concept. Here too, the piece’s texts are imaginary, but presented as fact. One journalist asked which institution the research was done in. ‘I told them Harvard,’ Emilia says, with a wicked glint in her eye. Also here is The Toilet, which was constructed originally for Documenta IX, curated by Jan Hoeet in 1992, whose theme had been ‘a Documenta of locations’. The recreation at Winzavod takes the form of a modest brick building round the back of the complex. Expecting to be inside an uncomfortable lavatory space, one’s preconceptions are instantly challenged. Here is a dining table set with china, glass and cutlery as if for a family dinner. It is all chintzy and squashily comfortable but for two three-seater public lavatories on the left hand side. Emilia tells me that the guards of The Toilet were completely captivated by the project. ‘This is the way we live,’ they said. When visitors asked if it was a toilet, she laughs, their immediate response was ‘It’s art you idiot!’ It’s a mark of the richness of the Kabakovs’ imaginations how different this is to a work made in the same year, which I came across by accident in the Grand Palais in 2000. Incident at the Museum or Water Music was alleged to be a collaboration between Ilya and another artist, one Stepan Koshelev, although he turns out to be yet another of Ilya’s inventions. The work, a pail in a corner of the museum with water appearing to drip into it from above, seemed at first glance to be a bucket catching a leak, all too common at that point in the faltering Grand Palais. But as one came close, it became clear that the plinking drops of water were magnified, and rather than dripping randomly, they formed a line of music. It was a moment of quiet enchantment.
28 November 2008 It is just after Thanksgiving, and I am back in Mattituck to finalize quotations and interviews. I
have brought smoked fish from Russ and Daughters in New York City and it seems particularly appropriate to conduct our interview over these very Russian Jewish delicacies, which recall those lavish dinners in Moscow. Today, though, we are in the more modest setting of the Kabakovs’ kitchen. Emilia points out two domestic objects which frame the door. Both appear to be everyday household items – one is an old fashioned scrubbing board (‘Judd gave me that,’ she states proudly) and on the other side of the door is an old-fashioned black mailbox. ‘That was Ilya’s mailbox from his flat in Moscow: I paid someone to go and steal it for me. A bit of archaeology,’ she says sadly. ‘See, it says Kabakov on the cover.’ It’s an apt symbol of the sentimentality that this pair both share for Moscow. Looking round their house one is constantly reminded of Russian fantasy pieces. Many of Ilya’s drawings here relate to the possibility of man in flight, with figures both ecstatic and fearful. His imagination takes you to a place that is strangely unstable. Many other drawings remind me of his former life as a children’s illustrator, with their naive, almost cartoon-like quality. A large, smug-looking cat squatly sits in the middle of a drawing while skittering rabbits fly below him. When I point out the improbable nature of these beasts to Emilia, she brushes the comment aside impatiently: ‘Of course, he does not paint a rabbit the way it looks, but the way he imagines a rabbit looks.’ It’s another example of Ilya’s obsession with flying and verticality which could be a reaction to the restrictions, both spatial and cultural, in his early days, and a link with that old Russian dreaminess. But metaphors of confinement are as abundant as those of flight – a group of recent paintings imagine life seen from underneath snow. It is lunchtime and Emilia serves her delicious homemade borscht which Ilya eats the Russian way, accompanied by cloves of raw garlic – and again time seems to stand still. The Kabakovs question me about the Hirst auction – Ilya asks about Hirst’s background. ‘He was a scrapper,’ I tell him, ‘someone who grew up with a single mum, never knowing his dad, and now has a very clear idea of how to make art work as a business – or at least his business manager Frank Dunphy does.’The sale led to an announcement from Dunphy that Hirst was now worth £1bn ($1.52bn). By the 1980s Ilya himself was exploring art’s relationship to the market place, producing works of real inherent value from the worthless flotsam of life. An installation, The Garbage Man
29
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 29
18/03/10 10:42
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 30
18/03/10 10:42
(1988) was based on the idea of a man who lived in a room completely filled with garbage. His inability to throw anything away was a symptom of the need to have some connection to the past. Here, the valueless, the worn out and the derelict were elevated to art. Ilya is not concerned with the art market. He shrugs and says: ‘It is all a big cycle.’This indifference to momentary trends and present obsessions is a constant in Ilya’s life and work and his attitude to present and past culture. ‘My own thinking is that now is no “end of history” at all,’ he once said. ‘New generations will come forward and a new era will go on from there. It’s always been that way with history; in times when they are on the upswing people tend to think things will keep getting better forever, then suddenly things start to falter and people think that things will stay at a standstill forever. Either way, history has always gone on, and just like at the beginning of this century new people will come up, and with them, new utopias, new hopes, new fantasies, launching the new century in a new way. I am standing outside Ilya’s painting studio. Inside, he’s hard at work on his next project – soon to be shipped to Brazil. It will be a chapel. Earlier, over lunch, he told me, ‘Every artist dreams of a chapel – Rothko, Matisse and Giotto.’ I had peered into the small wooden model in his studio. Here on the walls are miniature doll’s house-sized versions of the proposed 70-odd paintings, many consisting of simple black lines. Above the door is a large, foreboding work. ‘That’s hell,’ Ilya says. ‘All chapels should remind one of the opposite of heaven.’ Classical music is booming out of the studio and I can hear the swishing sounds of repetitive brushstrokes on canvas, and smell the tang of oil paint and turpentine. Has Ilya found what he wants from reconnecting to Russia? ‘No!’ his wife says, categorically. ‘He was too upset even to go and revisit his old studio.’ I am not sure, but I am certain that while he is in front of his canvases he is happy – and at the moment that’s all that is important.
21 November 2009 I arrive in Mattituck on the Hampton Jitney from New York City. It is freezing and the bus is early, so I stand on the side of the road waiting to be collected, jumping up and down to stay warm. Emilia arrives and takes me the short distance into the comfort of their home. Another delicious lunch is followed by a look at the recent work in the studio.
I have to prise Ilya away from the comfy sofa where he is gazing at an incongruously huge television. He is watching his beloved Chelsea playing against Wolverhampton Wanderers. He shows me his recent canvases, part of a series of huge works which will be displayed in the Louvre next autumn. The rest are in the newly completed showing area past the model studio. Every time I am in the studio I am aware of how much work this diffident man manages to do here in the seclusion of Long Island. The match is going well (Chelsea win 4–0) and Ilya is upbeat. His dealer Niccolo Sprovieri is coming from London to look at the works for his forthcoming show in London, so I will be able to see the flying paintings that are about to be photographed. In my mind I see the flying carrots of Ilya’s early personas. Later, Emilia opens the door to the simple, top-lit, lofty space that they have recently completed. The room is high, probably 20 feet, and the roof is a beautiful construction of plain wood, with light coming in from clerestory windows. But it is hard to look up, as I am instantly engaged with the sheer majesty of the three huge works on display. These are from the most recent collection, called the floor works. Here is a recognizable Emilia and Ilya, more than life sized, peering out of the painting whose richness and depth of colour is overwhelming. Later, Emilia, pointing to the Emperor of Japan and Richard Hamilton also present, tells me this is the first time Ilya has painted real people. Each work tells a story and each story adds something to the Kabakov myth. Emilia drags out a large colourful painting to show to Sprovieri. It is from a 1990s installation which featured a conceptual painter in the studio, but the viewer could not enter as his way was blocked by plastic. Peering in, one could only snatch at details of the paintings. The work revealed here, no longer a cog in the machinery of an installation, is in stark contrast to the white works or indeed the drenched, deep, colourful large panels. It is lively and bright – a grove of trees, their leaves depicted by pointillist splodges of colour. It is almost alive, shimmering in the breeze, and instantly conjures up warm, spring days. It reminds me that Ilya is a painter who needs to be many people – Rosenthal, Spivak, Koshelev and more – just to fulfil the abundant ideas and dreams flying in his head. n The Dark Paintings will be shown at the Louvre, Paris, in September 2010
31
BRIC_Kabakov_22-31.indd 31
18/03/10 10:42
nitin sawhney darkness visible words ian macmillan | photographs ben roberts
It’s August 5th, 1966. the Beatles are the biggest musical act in the world and have just released their latest album, Revolver. It’s only been three years since their breakthrough album, Please Please Me, yet in that short space of time they have extended their sonic palette further than any pop band of their generation. Even so, one can only imagine the aural shock most listeners must have experienced when Revolver’s fourth track drifted, hazily, from the speakers. A droning tambura introduces george harrison’s song ‘Love You to’, which, for its full three minutes, surfs a wave of hindustani classical instrumentation: tablas, hand-drums, and, most prominently, a sitar. It’s a fair bet to claim that this was not simply popular music’s first major encounter with non-western structure and tones, but the most radically exotic song ever composed by a 23-year-old Liverpudlian. the young British Indian musician Nitin sawhney is a prolific, restless innovator who might actually take his mantra from one of harrison’s lyrics on ‘Love You to’: ‘You won’t get time to hang a sign on me’. Over the last sixteen years he has released a series of albums that have fused sounds and rhythms as diverse as Bollywood film scores, flamenco, gamelan music and contemporary urban electronica. It’s a testament to the high esteem in which sawhney is held that when I ask him what he thought of the Beatles’ dalliance with sitars and mysticism he is able to answer from the perspective of Paul McCartney himself, with whom he recently recorded. ‘Actually, I’ve got a lot of time for george harrison because he was genuinely into it. McCartney, I know for a fact, was reading people like Rabindranathtagore at the time. they had a proper respect for the whole culture.’ What bothers him is not so much any passing judgement on the Beatles’ artistic expression, but rather the whole psychedelic movement that followed. Within a year of Revolver coming out, Indian music was being
co-opted, you could even argue plundered, by a whole scene of western musicians, poets and ‘gurus’, riding high – usually literally – on a cultural grand tour of the East. For sawhney, much of this was a sham, disrespectfully devaluing a precious musical tradition. having studied Indian classical music, he is rightly proud of its complexities as an art form – it is far more complex than western classical music, and hugely disciplined both in composition and performance. sawhney laughs with knowing irony when he reminds me that Ravi shankar famously asked people not to take drugs when he performed in the west, since the music itself was supposed to be about a heightened awareness. On one occasion, when shankar spent longer than usual tuning his instrument, the stoned hippies broke out into applause at the end. Over forty years on, it’s heartening to see a young musician still thinking about the socio-political and cultural imperatives of popular music’s ongoing melting pot of ethnicity. sawhney’s music offers a highly crafted, richly melodic expression of our increasingly multicultural society, fusing his own Asian roots with other global influences, motifs from decades of jazz, and programmed electronics. It is, in one sense, rootless. Yet we live in an age where no matter how ‘high’ the culture, it is packaged, branded, marketed and ultimately categorised. since the mid-1980s, the term world music has become a catch-all phrase for the non-western music that has grown steadily in popularity in Europe and America. this is a problem for sawhney, who is somewhat resistant to being pinned down as an artist purely because of his race. It’s no surprise that his breakthrough album from 1999 was titled Beyond Skin (which was released on the wryly named Outcaste record label). sawhney is a gently outspoken figure, and although his music sails along with harmonic ease, it is suffused
Nitin Sawhney, photographed with the London Symphony Orchestra, Barbican, 1 March 2010
BRIC_Sawhney_32-37.indd 32
18/03/10 10:56
BRIC_Sawhney_32-37.indd 33
18/03/10 10:56
BRIC_Sawhney_32-37.indd 34
18/03/10 10:56
with the issues of multiculturalism, belonging and spirituality that interest him. Beyond Skin’s mix of multi-lingual vocalists, traditional Indian percussion and clear nods to popular dance music may have made it an instant success, but there was autobiography and even a touch of anger behind it. Its slow grooves dealt in hindu mythology and disgust at India’s nuclear testing programme. On the track ‘Immigrant’, sawhney’s own father can be heard recalling bittersweet memories of emigration. ‘We went to the Embassy and they showed us Kew garden pictures and pictures of the various parts of England.’ he is sold a vision of a country where ‘it is all just beautiful and everything is just right’. however, as the later song ‘Nostalgia’ commences, he can be heard to admit, ‘I think in the initial stages we had a lot of struggle…’ sawhney’s parents emigrated from Punjab and Nitin was born in Dulwich in 1964, before the family moved to Rochester in Kent, a county which prides itself on being the garden of England. he was open to a huge range of influences from a very early age – his father, Anandeshwar, was a biochemist, and his mother, saroj, a traditional Indian classical dancer. he began piano lessons when he was just five, and he later went on to also master both classical and flamenco guitar. his formal musical education introduced him to the canon of western classical music, from Bach to Debussy, while at home his mother would be found playing Indian classical records and his brothers the latest in contemporary rock. It’s ingrained in sawhney’s background that there are no hierarchical distinctions between any of these forms, and throughout his working life he has played fast and loose in combining seemingly disparate sources into a music that is culturally democratic. I wondered how much sawhney believed music can act as a conduit for change? It’s an oft-reported fact that, as the only Asian boy at his school ,he felt very excluded. Indeed, the music teacher was a supporter of the extremist, far-right political party the National Front, who completely discouraged sawhney’s natural love (not to mention gift) for music. Even though strains of those politics still fester in British society today, music is infinitely more global and the divides between cultures and races have broken down as a result. Young white boys, for example, find meaning and identity in American ghetto hip-hop. the whole generation of Asian musicians with whom sawhney grew up felt, with pride and sincerity, that their voice deserved to be heard to a wider public across the whole of Britain, and indeed beyond. Once again, though, one senses his ambivalence. ‘What you’re talking about here is what came to be dubbed the Asian underground. these were people expressing themselves, and yet within the media it was reduced to a fashion, a moment. It’s very reductive. the fact that Jay sean is number one in the us – a young Asian, coming out of hounslow – is a great development. But we still have a long way to go.’ there’s a moment in his album Human where he merges politician Enoch Powell’s legendary anti-immigration ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech with Martin Luther King’s famous ‘I have a Dream’ speech. And it’s clear from talking to sawhney that while his music wears its politics lightly, he draws
upon a vast, learned range of cultural reference points as inspiration. he recalls his favourite moments from Nelson Mandela’s autobiography Long Walk to Freedom, and praises Edward said’s influential 1978 book Orientalism, which dealt with notions of exoticism, and how western colonialism was based on romanticised ideas of Asian culture. For sawhney, there’s an argument to be made that culturally we are, in fact, in a period of regression. ‘there had been right up till 2000 a real surge in Indian and Asian culture. then along came 9/11 and, in Britain, 7/7. so we regressed. Muslims became a focus for terror and suspicions.’ said had already discussed this in his introduction to Orientalism: ‘so far as the united states seems to be concerned, it is only a slight overstatement to say that Moslems and Arabs are essentially seen as either oil suppliers or potential terrorists. Very little of the detail, the human density, the passion of Arab-Moslem life has entered the awareness of even those people whose profession it is to report the Arab world.’ sawhney is acutely aware that today there is ‘a demonisation of ‘brown people’ and rampant Islamophobia. the fact we are at war with Muslim countries does affect the consensus.’ to an extent, this comes as no surprise to him. Looking back to his childhood, he is shocked at how badly his own culture’s history was taught. ‘Indian and African history was irrelevant in teaching unless it was connected to colonialism or slavery. this hasn’t shifted enough – even now.’ he tackled this head-on in the liner notes to Beyond Skin, writing: ‘ ‘history’ tells me my heritage came from the ‘sub’ continent – a ‘third world’ country, a ‘developing’ nation, a ‘colonised’ land. so what is history? For me, just another arrogant Eurocentric term. I learned only about Russian, European and American history in my school syllabus. India, Pakistan, Africa – these places were full of people whose history did not matter – the enslaved, the inferior.’ I don’t think it’s overstating the issue to suggest that these major cultural oversights are the reason sawhney becomes so agitated when the issue of world music is raised.there’s an obvious frustration in what he perceives as ‘white faces spearheading the ethnic element’. this is not simply a reference to the fact that the term world music was itself coined in the early sixties by a white ethnomusicologist, professor Robert E. Brown, but part of a wider discussion of the ways in which western musicians of the time colonised Indian and African musics. Much of the American avant garde would be non-existent without them. the pioneer of Minimalism, terry Riley, studied with a master of Indian classical forms, Pandit Pran Nath, and went on both to teach Indian classical music and to draw upon it for his seminal work In C. Another pioneer of the Minimalist form, steve Reich, made his breakthrough with a piece of phased tape manipulation called It’s Gonna Rain, using a sermon about Armageddon delivered by a black Pentacostal street preacher in harlem. his later studies in ghana with African percussionists would result in Drumming, arguably his masterpiece. Yet neither has ever been perceived as anything other than a conventional classical composer. Interestingly, sawhney has himself been moving closer to the world of classical composition. his forays into the world of the concert hall have been seamless orchestral hybrids, interweaving traditions and forms from
«‘history’ tells me my heritage came from the ‘sub’ continent – a ‘third world’ country, a ‘developing’ nation, a ‘colonised’ land» BRIC_Sawhney_32-37.indd 35
18/03/10 10:56
ÂŤi believe in hindu philosophy. i am not religious. i am a pacifist. i am a british asian. my identity and
BRIC_Sawhney_32-37.indd 36
18/03/10 10:57
my history are defined only by myself» across the globe. In 2006 he premiered a symphonic score for Franz Osten’s 1929 silent film, A Throw of Dice. Performed with the London symphony Orchestra at London’s Barbican it went on to tour internationally. he recently completed a follow-up, composing (in just one intense month) an entire score for Yogoto No Yume, a 1933 silent film by the acclaimed if somewhat obscure Japanese director Mikio Naruse. At its heart is a particularly affecting theme that accompanies the film’s central character, a put-upon barmaid named Omitsu, struggling to bring up her young son as a single parent. the film itself is an intriguing slice of social realism, with a sophisticated eye for framing and editing. sawhney’s score is light on overt Japanese references, however, though his insatiable cultural curiosity led him to incorporate the texts of a Japanese poet. Musically, the score is more informed by the work of western soundtrack composers such as Bernard herrmann and Ennio Morricone. though occasionally over-sentimental for my tastes, sawhney’s lyrical score is both a natural development from his more pop-oriented work, which is itself often highly scored, but also of a piece with it. What unites all of sawhney’s music is a deep humanity and compassion, a compassion that possibly drew him to Yogoto No Yume, which ultimately ends in tragedy but is suffused with an empathy for the Japanese working class. And it’s this ability to relate to the individual that ultimately, I think, is at the heart of sawhney’s rejection of cultural labels and stereotyping. As he said himself in the text he wrote for the sleeve of Beyond skin, ‘I believe in hindu philosophy. I am not religious. I am a pacifist. I am a British Asian. My identity and my history are defined only by myself.’ sawhney’s music cannot be world music, because for him what defines the world is its people, not its nationalities. n Nitin Sawhney will be performing at the Piper Club in Rome on 8 April 2010 000
BRIC_Sawhney_32-37.indd 37
18/03/10 10:58
AdriAnA VArej達o room with A View words piers gough | photographs fernando young brasileiro
Adriana Verejao photographed in her studio in Rio de Janeiro on 6 March 2010
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 38
18/03/10 10:19
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 39
18/03/10 10:19
gic electricity pylon. At the moment Adriana has a home at the front of the site which she plans to demolish in order to rebuild a structure in which the floors will be set not one above the other but at angles to each other, with a swimming pool on the top. i am afraid that at this point we compare notes on the length and depth of our respective pools. At the back of the property is a beautifully detailed, purpose-built studio looking out over a garden towards the mountain. the whole of the wall of the first floor on that side can be folded back to give an unobstructed view. she demonstrates manipulating the four huge doors which fold and slide effortlessly back on their tracks. A wide strip of the floor is open grilled for natural ventilation and the whole space seems to float ethereally above vegetation. the works on the walls are at an early stage. What look like white satellite dishes are to be painted and sculpted out-sized versions of plates/bowls. the inspiration came from a visit to caldas de rainha in Portugal to see the
My first encounter with Adriana Varejão is at 2 am in a deserted shopping centre in rio de Janeiro. it’s a strange scene: the shopping centre is quite old and has been turned over to fantastical antique shops. there are security men hanging around and in one corner is a little bar with a wild party going on. i am with the artist ernesto neto whose friend’s birthday celebration it is. i am leaving as Adriana arrives, late after a dinner she has given. she appears floating down the centre aisle like an apparition, her whiter-than-white outfit a contrast to this rather raw environment in downtown flamengo. Her appearance is almost the opposite of some of her work, where unexpectedly morbid things appear out of apparent beauty. We have agreed to meet at her studio on the day i leave rio. the studio is in Horto on a winding street alongside the fabulous Botanical Gardens (a must-see) which in turn segue into a mountain backdrop. on the top of this mountain is not christ, as on the corcovado peak which famously overlooks the city, but just one strate40
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 40
18/03/10 10:19
«her AppeArAnce is Almost the opposite of some of her work, where unexpectedly morbid things AppeAr out of AppArent beAuty»
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 41
18/03/10 10:20
«don’t be fooled by reproductions: AdriAnA is not herself A cerAmicist, her work is All pAint, plAster And fibreglAss, sometimes sculpturAlly supported by steel And Aluminium»
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 42
18/03/10 10:21
extraordinary work of the 19th-century ceramicist and political cartoonist Rafael Bordalo Pinheiro. By luck, I am familiar with his work from a visit long ago to Caldas, and a exhibition I chanced on recently in Tours in France. Pinheiro is like the Grinling Gibbons of ceramics – seemingly impossible layers of filigree complexity illustrating animals and habitats in rich colours – all really quite creepy. Taking on Pinheiro is a logical step in Adriana’s work. She started with the subversion of charming Chinese porcelain and Portuguese azulejos (decorative tiles), turning them into sinister meditations on female subjugation and slavery. The work draws you in with its beautiful rendition of apparently nostalgic imagery only to reveal beastliness within. She has since explored all things ceramic, latterly with gross flesh seething and exploding behind peeling faience, and a cooler, slightly sinister architectural exploration of the tiled world of hammams, saunas and baths. Other work celebrates the sculptural qualities of crazing (the traditionally fine cracking on pottery), which in Adriana’s hands becomes like the skin of a massive crocodile. She is therefore particularly drawn to Pinheiro, a man who was both a ceramicist and a political cartoonist. Don’t be fooled by reproductions: Adriana is not herself a ceramicist, her work is all paint, plaster and fibreglass, sometimes sculpturally supported by steel and aluminium. The present series is built as sculpture in fibreglass and then painted during the process, with the concave bowl filing up with objects while the convex back is rendered with an
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 43
indigenous Brazilian patterning. Earlier works in the same series involved the myth of Ondine, the water nymph who curses her wayward husband, and some very sexy ripe-looking fig halves. They seemed more celebratory and pleasurable, less sinister than earlier work. I didn’t quite have the nerve to ask if this was due to her fairly recent marriage and birth of a daughter. Adriana comes from a strong tradition of 20th-century Brazilian women artists whose works stood out when I visited the Chateaubriand collection on display at the Museum of Modern Art (MAM) in Flamengo Park (the museum is the best modern building in Rio). Apart from the most famous, Tarsila do Amaral, who pioneered modernism in Brazil, there was Djanira, a ‘naïve’ from the north of the country, and Maria Helena Vieira da Silva, the School of Paris painter of dense abstract urban landscapes, who spent an important period in Rio in the 1940s. These three use the most confident, strongest colour in the gallery. Adriana is married to the visionary collector Bernardo Paz who has created Instituto Cultural Inhotim, a unique non-profit art centre set in botanical gardens near Belo Horizonte, where individual artists’ pavilions are set in an environment designed by landscape artist Roberto Burle Marx. Adriana’s pavilion appears as a rectangular box floating on the landscape with an angled terrace in front. On the terrace is a bench made of 101 painted tiles. She explains that you enter from below the building rising up into the carefully top lit space before rising again onto the roof, from which a bridge carries
18/03/10 10:54
«It’s a brIllIant Idea of progressIon through space rather than the more normal process of enterIng and leavIng by the same door» you back out onto the landscape. It’s a brilliant idea of progression through space rather than the more normal process of entering and leaving by the same door. Inside the works are Adriana’s most architectural: huge jumbled azulejos of baroque gorgeousness, with eastern Hokusai-like waves made of western classical motifs and a big painting of a tiled baths, whose trompe l’oeil perspectives seem to extend the real space. We go off to lunch and it is raining. Adriana picks up an umbrella to shelter us across the garden. When we get to the car she simply tosses the open umbrella away like a kite, deliciously carefree. After asking me what I would like to eat, she takes me to a typical Brazilian restaurant nearby, so I can have a final taste of the local cooking before leaving Brazil. She has an easy familiarity and greets a table full of other artist friends across the room. The lunch was good: a long platter of beef which I never thought we would manage, but did; manioc, a bit like couscous, with soft lumps which turned out to be a banana; green rice (the green being spinach, I think); and, most delicious of all, a
bowl of Brazilian black beans – all washed down with beer. We talked about exhibiting at Victoria Miro, and the marvellous “as-found” quality but slightly daunting scale of Miro’s London gallery. Like Cildo Meireles, her favourite artists also include Chris Burden. She described being at the installation at Inhotim in 2008 of Burden’s Beam Drop, where a crane casually drops huge I-beams at random into a pool of wet concrete. Burden was becoming very frustrated because the beams kept plopping in vertically between each other instead of hitting each other and making rakish angles as he hoped. Well, that’s what happens in a country of palm trees. We completely lose track of the time and, all of a sudden, it seems as if I will surely miss my flight. But Adriana graciously lends me her driver to take me to the airport through the inevitable traffic jams. I just sit back and enjoy the ride through Rio – now my favourite city. n Adriana Varejão’s show will be at Victoria Miro in London during Frieze in October 2010. www.victoria-miro.com
Above: sketch by Piers Gough of Adriana Varejão at lunch Below: Adriana Varejão’s pavilion at Instituto Inhotim, Bela Horizonte
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 44
18/03/10 10:53
BRIC_Adriana_38-45.indd 45
18/03/10 10:21
object lesson: lot 2 INteLLIGeNCe IS artIFICIaL; objects are not as they seem. Is a vessel, aged thousands of years, more valuable intact or shattered? If it is restored to faded splendour, or audaciously splashed in Warholian hues of industrial paint? ai Weiwei is frequently portrayed as an iconoclast who wreaks havoc upon Chinese antiquities, be they Ming and Qing furniture, Neolithic pottery, or blue-andwhite porcelains handcrafted in the tradition prized by China’s past emperors. to depict ai is a destroyer is overly simplistic. His philosophy is more alike that of an internet hacker, albeit one with a distinctly Socratic bent: constantly attacking the existing infrastructure to expose its weaknesses, and forcing technology to become more resilient as a consequence. Neolithic pottery features prominently in ai’s oeuvre. First conceived as utilitarian vessels for storage and transportation, these earthernware vessels also took on ritual functions and began to feature elaborate, mostly abstracted decorative patterns applied via paint or relief. Now, these vessels abruptly find themselves in new clothing, goods of desire for a different elite and its value system. ai’s early sculpture of a CocaCola Vase (1984) is a humorous comment on the all-pervasive nature of globalization. His famously iconoclastic Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn photographic triptych (1995) immortalizes the artist in the act of shattering a precious Han vessel. today, the value of this photograph has far exceeded that of the broken urn (prior to its breakage, that is). In a jibe at the art world’s sometimes contradictory obsessions with consumerism and scarcity, ai created the immensely popular series of Painted Vessels – Neolithic vases 5000 to 7000 years old presented afresh in cheery modern coats. this particular set of Painted Vessels features nine large Neolithic vases coated and lushly streaked in Pop-bright shades of industrial paint. ebullient, jewelled colours slither down the vases; more streamers of paint alight in random and abstract patterns that recall Pollock’s drips, or fireworks at Chinese New Year. In comparison to the extreme precision and minimalist nature of the majority of ai’s sculptures, these Painted Vessels stand out for their effusive and spontaneous character. ai’s appropriation of these Neolithic vessels into contemporary art inspires us to reflect upon the unpredictable trajectory of social and artistic values through the centuries. Like the sophisticated hacker, the artist compels us to constantly test our assumptions, to re-examine our conventional wisdom of aesthetics and desire. again, like this hacker, ai cautions us that our treasured objects are temporal. Someday in the future another man, yet unknown, may also transform his work to the crowd’s applause. n Ai Weiwei b. 1957, Painted Vessels, 2006
Ai Weiwei’s iconoclastic triptych Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn (1995; detail shown here) questions notions of value in contemporary art, as the artist has consciously created a self-reflexive work in which the photographic documentation of an urn’s destruction exceeds the object’s original value.
By substituting the photographs’ subjects with opaque pixilated forms, After Stieglitz (2007) by Sherrie Levine characterises her strategy of appropriating art history to critique notions of artistic originality. The serialized logic of this work further exposes how specific artworks can become generic tokens of prestige.
Allan McCollum’s Perfect Vehicles series, begun in 1985, comprises groups of urns painted in monochrome enamel. Their production in groups of identical shapes provoke a consideration of the relationship between consumption and artistic production, and draw attention to art as a commodity.
By reconfiguring Neolithic urns through acts that might initially be mistaken for vandalism, Ai Weiwei’s practice opens up a discourse on the role of violence, transgression and destruction in China’s cultural heritage.
Weiwei: courtesy the artist. Levine: © Sherrie Levine, courtesy of the Paula Cooper Gallery, New York. McCollum: courtesy Friedrich Petzel Gallery, New York
words chin-chin yap
46
BRIC_CHINA_Objectlesson_46-47.indd 46
18/03/10 10:36
BRIC_CHINA_Objectlesson_46-47.indd 47
18/03/10 10:36
gene sherman a woman of her word
words elaine ng | photographs paul green
Gene Sherman haS a very clear vision of an ideal world. Born into a German-austrian family in South africa in 1947, one year prior to the subsequent 47 years of apartheid, she and her husband Brian left for australia in 1976 because they could no longer accept the horrific governmental policies of formalized racism. after 30 years as émigrés in Sydney, she and her family champion many causes that help further their efforts in creating a more humane world, including supporting living artists from the asia-Pacific region. Gene came to contemporary asian art along a circuitous path, one that reflects a rapidly changing world. Upon her arrival in Sydney in the late 1970s, she completed her doctorate in 20th-century French literature and immediately started teaching. During this period, under the leadership of then prime minister GoughWhitlam (1972–75), and later, more aggressively under Paul Keating in the 1990s, australia shifted its foreign and economic policies, seeking to build ties with neighbouring countries such as China and Japan. Given the mood to connect to nearby countries rather than Britain and europe, perhaps in retrospect it was not surprising that the University of Sydney’s French department began shrinking. ‘We went from 800 students to 220 in the five years that I was there. and from 20 lecturers to eight and I didn’t have tenure, so together with 12 others we left,’ she reflects with no hint of regret. She went on to run a modern language department at a local high school. ‘I introduced Japanese and Indonesian into the curriculum because I could see that asia was starting to be foregrounded as well as French and German in the primary school. So after five years I thought that I’d done everything that I could do there.’ Through her South african ties, Gene began working part-time at the Irving Sculpture Gallery in 1986, which would eventually become her own gallery, when the owner, who left for a three-week
Gene Sherman photographed at her home in Sydney, 27 February 2010, with Portrait of the artist’s father by Ah Xian
48
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 48
18/03/10 11:00
49
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 49
18/03/10 12:19
50
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 50
18/03/10 11:00
Ai Weiwei’s Under Construction from the opening exhibition of Sherman Contemporary Art Foundation, March 2008
holiday to Zimbabwe, decided she wanted to stay in africa and never return to australia. although Gene says she was ‘thrown in at the deep end’ when her boss abandoned her and the gallery, art was not completely foreign territory. her father, an entrepreneur who opened the first bank in South africa for South africans, also collected art and Persian carpets. She recalls, ‘my father bought his first art work when I was six, and he paid it off at ten dollars a month, or the rand equivalent, for years.’ Gene’s aunt was also a painter, so as a child she would often attend exhibitions with her family. ‘at primary school, I would ask my classmates, “What shows did you go to over to see on the weekend?” and they always thought I meant films not art exhibitions!’ not only was she interested in art, but she was also fashion conscious – she generally wears only black and recently donated her substantial collection of contemporary Japanese fashion to the Powerhouse museum in Sydney. Left holding the reins of a gallery, she renamed it Sherman Gallery and slowly began to shift the focus towards supporting young, cutting-edge australian and Chinese artists. This was logical, given the series of events leading up to this point. ‘I’d lost my whole profession as a result of australia turning its attention to asia. remember, I was geared in one particular direction, to France specifically and to literature in France. I’d spent 12 years in formal study at university both teaching and researching. It was a very serious endeavour for me. and then the whole thing just blew apart because suddenly someone said, ‘What is australia’s position in asia?’ So I thought, ‘Well, we are in asia and we should be in asia, and therefore I’m going to focus on asia.’ So I just took the disadvantage and turned it into an advantage. at the time it was very unusual.’ The gallery soon became one of the leading destinations for contemporary art in the australasia region, and at the outset of the 1990s she began exhibiting artists such as Turkish filmmaker and former Turner Prize nominee Kutlug ataman, who is best known for documenting marginalized individuals, and pyrotechnic artist Cai Guo-qiang, one of the first Chinese artists to become known internationally. For over two decades, Gene championed australian, Indigenous and asian artists with the help of William Wright, former assistant director of the art Gallery of
51
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 51
18/03/10 11:00
In the background: Zhang Huan’s Family Portrait
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 52
18/03/10 11:00
«my father bought his first art work when i was six, and he paid it off at ten dollars a month, or the rand equivalent, for years»
new South Wales and director of the Biennale of Sydney, who became her gallery director in 1992. Gene, however, credits her burgeoning interest in China to her first meeting with artist Guan Wei in Sydney. as a painter who studied at the Beijing Capital University, Guan Wei moved to australia after taking up as artist-in-residence at theTasmanian School of art in 1989. In 1992, he was invited to take up another residency at the museum of Contemporary art in Sydney, and it was there that Gene became captivated by the artist and his work which she began to collect and exhibit. at the same time, Gene met nicholas Jose, the former Cultural Counsellor at the australian embassy in China (1987–90) and now the chair of australian studies at harvard University, and his wife Claire roberts, a curator and art historian specializing in contemporary Chinese art. Together with Jose and roberts, Gene began travelling to China and other nearby countries, such as Taiwan and Japan, to visit artists. It was during this time that she began collecting the work of other Chinese artists such as Song Dong, Xu Bing and Zhang huan, the last of which dominates her collection. IT WaS an exciting time as a pioneering gallery, but she always had intentions of shifting her work into the philanthropic realm. She describes being uncomfortable with the money side of the gallery and cites her husband as her real mentor. ‘Brian helped me understand the financial systems and payments. I had no clue about that.This wasn’t my career goal originally.’ all newspaper articles describe the Shermans as immigrating to australia with ‘only a few dollars in their pockets’; in fact, they had exactly aUD 5,200 to their name. however, in 1981, her husband Brian, who was also South african of Lithuanian decent, launched a fund management company with his friend, Laurence Freedman, called equitilink. Brian proudly recalls starting their business on their kitchen table in the now chic Sydney neighborhood of Paddington. By 1985, he and Freedman had raised nearly one billion US dollars to invest in australia through investors primarily based in the United States. Simultaneously, Gene had expanded her gallery to include an artist residency programme and educational talks on Saturday afternoons. She explains, ‘To the best of my ability I combined the educational with the commercial. But
my core business and my core focus remained artists and collectors. In September 1998, nine years before I put my thoughts into action, I decided that if Brian could afford it, I would turn the gallery into a foundation and I would stop the commercial side of my work.’ Two years later in 2000, Brian and his partner sold equitilink for over $150 million. By 2008, as Gene turned 60, she concluded 21 years of running a successful gallery business and established the Sherman Contemporary art Foundation (SCaF), a nonprofit dedicated to contemporary art from australia, asia and the middle east. Today, the Sherman family is worth about $185 million and busy rallying support for many causes, not just art. Brian, who is a vegan, sits on numerous commercial and non-profit boards. With their 36-year old daughter Ondine, he has also founded Voiceless, a charity fighting for animal rights. Their son, emile, 39, is a successful film producer who tends to gravitate towards socially engaged projects such as Philip noyce’s Golden Globe nominee work Rabbit-Proof Fence, which tells the story of the Stolen Generation (the children of australian aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander descent who were forcibly removed from their families and placed with white families as part of an ethnic assimilation program that ended in the 1970s), and, more recently, the film adaptation of J. m. Coetzee’s novel Disgraced set in post-apartheid South africa. For Gene, socially engaged art practices are also emphasised in the programme of SCaF, which provides artists with financial and exhibition support to create new and ambitious work. In 2008, SCaF sponsored the commission of mumbai-based artist Jitish Kallat’s Aquasaurus, a seven-metre-long sculpture of a water-tanker morphing into the skeleton of a prehistoric creature. although Gene has never stepped foot in India because of her fears of facing the same poverty she left behind in South africa, Kallat’s sculpture resonated particularly with her: ‘I was attracted to this particular work because it has very different connotations in India and in australia, but the preoccupation of water was common to both. australia is the hottest dry continent on the planet. Water is a major preoccupation here and has to be because we’re short of water. and this work was also about pure drinking water in mumbai, where people didn’t have access to clean drinking water. Water is a major ongoing
Gene Sherman with Original Face by Ah Xian, and, on the wall behind her, Guan Wei’s Looking for Home
53
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 53
18/03/10 11:01
ÂŤas for asia, particularly china and india, this is the part of the world whose turn it is now. for a hundred different reasonsÂť 54
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 54
18/03/10 11:01
Above: a work on paper by Xu Bing, and above right, Gene in front of a piece by Yang Fudong, from the series No Snow on the Broken Bridge
issue. Jitish’s work presented a completely different version of this obsession with water, how to get clean water to people because they couldn’t afford to buy it. I really loved the meaning behind the work, with all sorts of personal ramifications for me.’ Gene’s project with Ai Weiwei, however, is the one that launched SCAF and continues to stands out in her memory as the most meaningful. Ai is known for his performance art and conceptual-based practice, which in recent years has also extended to architecture. For SCAF, he created the massive installation Through (2007–08), consisting of tables, beams and pillars from dismantled Qing-dynasty temples that filled the gallery space with dizzying effect. But Gene’s admiration for the artist goes beyond the work. She explained, ‘Weiwei is not an artist in the traditional sense of the word. He is a social commentator. We had a number of talks about South Africa, about apartheid and our experiences there, as well as about China and control. And he’s interested in people connecting. He’s interested in cultural exchange. Our preoccupations overlap.’ Does she think the growing prominence of China, India and Asia in general is just a fleeting trend? ‘There might be some people in America who don’t see it or don’t want to see it. But I think for everyone else in the world it is quite clear.’ Gene continued, ‘We left South Africa in 1964 for Melbourne and then London, so 1976 was our third migration. People say to me, “How did you know to leave South Africa in ’64?” I just look at them and say, “I don’t know how you didn’t know.” As for Asia, particularly China and India, this is the part of the world whose turn it is now. For a hundred different reasons.’ n Sherman Contemporary Art Foundation, 16–20 Goodhope Street, Paddington, Sydney NSW 2021 Australia, tel. +61 (0)2 9331 1112
55
BRIC_Sherman_48-55.indd 55
18/03/10 12:27
BRIC_Pulp_revise_56-59.indd 56
18/03/10 10:47
100% extra pulp
Blaft Publications’ English translations of popular literature in Tamil and Hindi bring regional language popular fiction to an English-speaking audience in high-quality paperbacks that have become all the rage throughout India words iggy cortez
BRIC_Pulp_revise_56-59.indd 57
18/03/10 10:48
«blaft co-founder rakesh khanna was intrigued by pulp-fiction paperbacks, with their twisted, digitally manipulated covers of maneating kittens and burning bodies» BRIC_Pulp_revise_56-59.indd 58
Speaking from hiS office in Chennai, Blaft co-founder rakesh khanna traces the beginnings of Blaft to curiosity and insomnia. often finding himself awake at night standing at a tea kadai, a roadside tea shop where pulpfiction paperbacks are commonly sold, he was intrigued by their twisted, digitally manipulated covers of man-eating kittens and burning bodies. But the Californian-born khanna could only read english fluently, preventing him from exploring the Tamil-language books’ promise of the sordid and supernatural. Unable to find english translations for literature that, while wildly popular, was considered too lowbrow to warrant english translations, khanna decided to undertake the project himself. Creating the Blaft publishing house with co-directors rashmi ruth Devadasan and kaveri Lalchand in 2008 was a venture that allowed them not only to finally satisfy his curiosity, but also to bring Tamil literature to a broader audience – in a country as linguistically diverse as india, english is often the default language shared between regions. Blaft enlisted the skills of translator and Tamil pulp aficionado pritham k. Chakravarth to produce their first book The Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction. The anthology included pulp staples from the fantastical to the romantic to the detective noir, as well as samples of the bizarre cover art that had first attracted rakesh’s curiosity. The book garnered wide acclaim not only for undertaking a unique cultural initiative, but for also giving pulp fiction, which is conventionally printed on the cheapest paper available, a beautiful production that included glossy paper, colour plates and an elegant retro typeface. following the buzz generated by the book’s success, Blaft has since expanded its inventory to include folk tales, contemporary experimental fiction, graphic novels and comic books. When the publishing house began to translate hindi novels, Blaft also decided to release a postcard book Heroes, Gundas, Vamps & Good Girls, a collection of cover art by Shelle (the pseudonym for mustajab ahmed Siddiqui) whose lurid oil paintings have appeared on more than 4,000 covers. rakesh recalls visiting the artist in a remote part of Utter pradesh, stating that ‘it took a long time to explain what they were doing’ to the veteran artist who was pleasantly surprised to discover his work was gaining admiration beyond the bounds of strictly commercial need. as the different write-ups on Blaft attest, its audience is as eclectic as its inventory, ranging from college hipsters interested in an edgy novelty to cultural scholars to children of the indian diaspora who are curious to read indian popular literature. The response from the books’ writers has also been enthusiastic; rakesh comments that they are thrilled that ‘their grandchildren living abroad can finally read their work’. as publishers predict that india is expected to become the world’s biggest englishlanguage book-buying country in the next decade, Blaft’s initiatives are becoming even more ambitious. rakesh reveals that he is now interested in translating popular fiction from the philippines or Cambodia, bringing the pulp genre from further cultures to the attention of english-speaking readers. n Blaft’s website is www.blaft.com, and their UK distributor is Motilal Banarsidass at www.mldb.com
18/03/10 10:48
BRIC_Pulp_revise_56-59.indd 59
18/03/10 10:48
cildo meireles walking on clouds words karen wright and piers gough | photographs Fernando Young Brasileiro
Cildo Meireles photographed in his studio in Rio, 5 March 2010
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 60
18/03/10 11:47
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 61
18/03/10 11:48
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 62
18/03/10 11:48
«invoking andy warhol helped to camouflage the political nature of my work» After A long and turbulent flight into rio de Janeiro, I could hardly wait to start exploring the city I had often dreamt of visiting. In particular, I was anxious to meet with Cildo Meireles and ernesto neto, both of whom I had met in london and both of whose work I particularly loved. And I was thirsty for my first cocktail, having argued with my flying companion, architect Piers gough, as to whether it should be a true Brazilian caipirinha or Cuban mojito. Imagine my despair when Piers strolled through immigration with his British passport, but I was turned back with my visaless American documentation. I was loaded onto the next plane back home to the UK, leaving to Piers the pleasure of meeting Cildo and ernesto. I am not prepared, however, to leave all the writing to him, so the following is a patchwork quilt of our experiences sewn together with images from rio. I had never heard of Cildo Meireles before his tate exhibition in 2008. I arrived on the opening night in the middle of frieze week without high expectations, but having walked through the exhibition, I felt I had made a magical and important discovery. ‘Cildo is here,’ Vicente todolí, the director of tate Modern, told me, ‘look for a bald man’. After accosting several unsuspecting bald men, I finally asked a striking looking, simply dressed man, who could only be an artist, if he was Cildo. ‘Yes!’ was the warm response, coupled with a wide smile and an invitation to come to his film being screened the following weekend. I met Meireles at tate Modern the following week and he walked me through the various works in the exhibition, essentially a reprisal of his greatest hits, before we settled for coffee. first, he showed me the political works which he made in the late 60s and early 70s.the Insertions into Ideological Circuits (1970–76) were guerrilla artworks in which Meireles printed messages on Coca-Cola bottles and dollar bills and took out advertisements in newspapers. Among the messages were direct slogans such as ‘Yankees go home’ alongside more philosophical questions such as ‘Which is the place of the work of art?’ ‘When I did my Coke pieces, people pointed to the artworks and said that Pop art, and in particular Andy Warhol, was the antecedent, but they are wrong,’ he told me, laughing. ‘But maybe that was a good thing, though, as invoking Andy Warhol helped to camouflage the political nature of my work.’ While these early works, like much of Meireles’s oeuvre, are intended to provoke a dialogue with the viewer, he says to me emphatically that it is not just the discourse that is important to him: ‘It is also the object, which must be seen as an art object.’ His influences are far ranging, owing something to both Brazilian and european
63
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 63
18/03/10 11:48
ÂŤit is not just the discourse that is important.it is also the object, which must be seen as an art objectÂť 64
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 64
18/03/10 11:48
65
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 65
18/03/10 14:00
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 66
18/03/10 11:49
«i like the poetic nature of my work, and of being a planetarium, coming from the universe»
pioneers. ‘Much of the work is a homage to Piero Manzoni,’ he said. ‘In the 1960s, he expanded what a sculptor could do, bend, cut, etcetera.’ While he admitted that it is easy to see much of his work as a conversation with Marcel Duchamp and his readymades, Meireles has claimed in the past that it is in fact the opposite. ‘While Duchamp was closing down the discourse of what sculpture could be,’ he once said, ‘I am opening it up.’ He laughed when I reminded him of this. ‘When I said that,’ he explained, ‘I had the juvenile arrogance of a young artist.’ In fact, Meireles admitted that Duchamp was an early hero and that when he first went to new York City, he went to find him. Sadly, he recalled, the great man was no longer playing chess in Washington Square. ‘I was too late for Duchamp and Hopper, my two heroes,’ he said sadly. A hero from another discipline was the film-maker orson Welles, after whom Meireles named his youngest son. Welles, Meireles told me, was a man who broke the boundaries between fiction and art. Coming from Brazil has its challenges, he said. While he has claimed in the past that he absorbed the influences of lygia Clark and Hélio oiticica, he is determined not to be considered merely a Brazilian or South American artist. His unease with being pigeonholed is such that he even feels uncomfortable with the idea of being a global artist. Cryptically, he said ‘I like the poetic nature of my work, and of being a planetarium, coming from the universe’. As Meireles took me round the rest of the exhibition, we entered the strikingly individual room installations for which he is best known, Volatile (1980–94). It’s an unforgettable work in which he forces people to abandon their socks and shoes and walk in total darkness on a cool powdery substance. the genesis for the piece, he says, was his childhood experience of visiting his relatives in Anápolis, in the centre of Brazil, a place that gets incredibly hot and has little rain. there, he enjoyed pressing his toy balls into the ground, a sensation which, he said, ‘was akin to what he imagined pressing something into a cloud would be like’. He wanted to give the viewer a similar experience of hazy disorientation, but also to take it further, so that he could offer us something so many of us desire, a feeling of ‘walking on clouds’. And in Volatile, such is Meireles’s mastery of material and space, he managed to achieve it. Karen Wright
67
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 67
18/03/10 11:49
«he wanted to offer us something so many of us desire, a feeling of ‘walking on clouds’» our conversation centres on his early life. Cildo was born in 1948, and his father was an Indianist, working for the Indian protection services and his uncle was a backwoodsman, as was his son, and the family lived in various locations around Brazil including Belo Horizonte and Brasília. We also talk about his early artistic training in the studio of felix Alejandro Barrenechea Avilez. He was 15 and it was in the period in Brazil after the dictatorship of getúlio Dornelles Vargas and before the military coup of 1964, when the state paid artists to take students into their studios. felix was a fantastic teacher and inspired him to do art. When a year later the military stopped paying he allowed him to continue to come and work. ‘I drew and drew and drew,’ Cildo says. ‘When I went to Bahia someone introduced me to the director of a new art museum in Salvador in a beautiful lina Bo Bardi building, and they offered me a show. I was only 19 and it was only their second show. When it was over, I went back to Brasília and picked up my other 2,500 drawings.’ He deadpans. Uncooly I had to get him to repeat this amazing number. He got them so he could take the entry exams for the art school in rio. Despite the fact that he had already had a show, they made him take the exam, but he only lasted for two months. It was March 1968, a student had been killed and there were vast student protests. the military had fired 250 art teachers, including Cildo’s own. So his work became subversive and political. Cildo tells me that felix had come initially from Peru and had never learned to speak good Portuguese. When felix was aged 70, Cildo went to find him in Brasília but he had somehow gone to Boston. It was strange, then, when felix turned up at Cildo’s new York openings. Cildo insisted they meet and they arranged to do so near times Square and when they did, he saw that felix’s work was arranged on railings. ‘It was terrible,’ says Cildo, ‘he was 80 and he was selling his art on the street. But he claimed he was happiest there, because he was selling to ordinary people and taking good money!’ then he shows me around the rest of the building, upstairs and out the back, attached to the studio, was a house which is now occupied, such is international success, by an insane number of grey filing cabinets. Here too are other bits of comfy furniture, like a reclining chair in which I reckon Cildo has his afternoon siestas. We listen to Post Mozart hip hop music composed by one of his sons. We talk about his zero Cruzeiro/ Dollar notes and coins which can never devalue whatever crazy inflation is happening, on the other hand being art they do have positive value, a lovely conundrum and that sets off a meditation close to siestering … then I ask who Cildo’s favourite artists are outside Brazil and he says richard Serra and Chris Burden, which is a very agreeably architectural answer. As we leave the studio he points out that his top floor flat is on the same street, about 100 metres away, although ironically he likes to walk for a couple of hours each early morning. Its certainly quicker going home. He is happy here it seems, if in a faintly lugubrious way. He has that hint of Walter Matthau about him doesn’t he? n Piers gough
tHe CUl-De-SAC WHere Cildo has his studio is a narrow one going up a steep hill, a turning off from a leafy residential road, which appears to be a mix of houses and flats. It ends at the concrete slope of a funicular lift which leads up to a house invisible in the thick foliage. As I arrive, this steep termination makes the road seem to be heading for the sky. Somehow the perfect street for Cildo. the studio is near the top of the street and is a spectacularly high single space, a big box – I think a cube. there is a mezzanine half-way up, and on the ground floor is a storage area, strangely beautiful – where there are piles of wooden art crates, like a mini container port, many of them stamped by the tate. I imagine a box to be full of all the radios that go to make up his spectacular sculpture Babel and all still switched on talking to each other. In the corner of the ground floor is a dining table surrounded with improbably large cane furniture with soft seats. Cildo and I sink into the softness, slightly tipped back, and this sets a calm, almost Sundayish mood, the antithesis of my earlier meeting with ernesto neto.
68
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 68
18/03/10 11:49
BRIC_Mirelles_60-69.indd 69
18/03/10 11:50
Amit chAudhuri wAiting for the unexpected words & photographs aMit chaudhuri
Of course, much of 20th-century avantgarde artistic practice is meant to put that very practice into question; to – whether it always intends to or not – provoke the irate viewer into commenting: ‘Even i could do that!’ Crucially, this category of viewer doesn’t then go on to ‘do that’, as ‘that’ would be a waste of time; this viewer comprises the market for prints of the Old Masters and contemporary landscape painting. this viewer believes, as we all do in secret, that the vocation of art is hard-earned and hard-won. a few years ago, i began to entertain fantasies of becoming an artist.these were noticeably different from the fantasies i’d had, since i was a boy, of being a writer. Naipaul speaks about how, for him, the mysterious urge to ‘be a writer’ preceded, powerfully, having anything to actually write about. he speaks about it almost as a necessary component of the writer’s psychology – the attractions of the role, which are then set aside, temporarily, when the writer, at long last, discovers their subject-matter. Just as the education in technique is difficult for the artist and
I asked novelist, poet and musician Amit Chaudhuri to capture the flavour of his beloved yet frustrating native Calcutta. Inspired by Marcel Duchamp, Amit explored, both in words and photographs, the intangible qualities that set apart the ordinary yet extraordinary. KW What is it that makes an artist? For a long time, like everyone else, i thought it was a particular gift or ability – and i still believe that ability is a prerequisite. i speak of ability because there are certain activities that seem to require none. Writing is a case in point: there are lots of people who think that knowing a language is enough reason to begin a career as a writer. acting is another; many of us secretly feel that if we were a bit better-looking and less shy, we might well have been actors. Politics, especially; almost anyone, if they’re venal enough, and have the right connections, can be a politician. art, music, sports, mathematics – these, however, are different. You are singled out, either by the kind of physique or brain you have, or by a peculiar, inexplicable aptitude. 70
BRIC_Chauduri_70-73.indd 70
18/03/10 11:38
71
BRIC_Chauduri_70-73.indd 71
18/03/10 11:38
musician, so is (Naipaul appears to suggest) the discovery of subject-matter for the writer – as difficult, but more unpredictable, unforeseeable, and demanding a radical break. to move from wanting to ‘be a writer’ to addressing your subject-matter is to also experience, suddenly, a new awkwardness and fraudulence – Naipaul mentions how he lacked the confidence to put ‘writer’ under ‘occupation’ in his passport until he’d published his sixth novel. all these elements in the trajectory have resonances for me. My lack of confidence in declaring myself an artist has a more straightforward reason: i am not one. and if i’ve been daydreaming about artistic practice, it’s for very different reasons from those pertaining to the writer-manqué. ‘Being an artist’ never held any particular glamour or promise for me, as, at various stages in my life, being an army commander, a chauffeur, a singer-songwriter, a filmmaker, or a poet all did. Either the stamp of authority or that of sexual desirability (or both) confers to the dream role its magic; why the artist wasn’t one of these multiple assignations i’ve no idea. it may have been that i suspected that, while i might make an astute commander or a respectable chauffeur, i had simply no talent for art. iN thE Past three or four years, though, i’ve begun, infrequently, to be visited by ideas for artistic projects and exhibitions. are ideas, in themselves, any good; moreover, are they good ideas; and what does one do with them? We all know what happened when Degas, who occasionally wrote verse but found the writing laborious, told his friend Mallarmé: ‘i have so many ideas for poems, but find it hell writing one.’ Mallarmé remarked witheringly: ‘You don’t write poems with ideas, Degas, but with words.’ Could an artist turn to me with a similar reprimand: you don’t make art with ideas, but with paint? it doesn’t seem clear, any more, what an artist works with. While poets and novelists continue to use words, it’s plausible that an artist might use words as well, or music, or other media. Ever since the
«i hAd A sort of mock-epiphAny, An Artistic solution thAt cAme seemingly from nowhere: i’d exhibit it. the rubric would be ‘unusAble gifts’» BRIC_Chauduri_70-73.indd 72
impulse towards representation – even the representation of abstraction – ceased to predominate in the art world, the art-work has become a sort of essay: a completely hybrid form. Naipaul’s account of the writer’s discovery of subject-matter involved a flight from the apprentice’s obsession with the ‘literary’ – great themes, ideas, forms – towards lived life, experience and, significantly, locality: whether that was a lane in trinidad, a small town in texas, a neighbourhood in Dublin, or a village called Nischindipur in Bengal. But i doubt if finding one’s métier as an artist today entails a comparable flight from the world of ‘themes’ to that of lived life. Contemporary life seems to present itself to the artist in a way that’s continuous with the art-work, and, significantly, with the sphere in which the latter is available to us. having said that, many of the art-impulses i feel have to do with the city in which i now live for most of the year, Calcutta. though i didn’t grow up here, i’ve observed it since childhood – but observation and recollection, which have gone into my writings on the city, don’t necessarily have much to do with the impulses i’m speaking of. they probably emerge from the shock of living here, up-close, the digestion over eleven years of that shock, and from momentary reassertions of distance. For one thing, i know this isn’t the city i saw as a child; know that, for 35 years, it’s been in decline, and that people who live here (including myself) have to interpret our decision to do so in one way or another. What continuity links the Calcutta of its heyday, from the 1860s to the 1960s, with its revolutions in the arts and its radical-bourgeois politics, to the Calcutta we live in today? there’s no clear answer. i myself live here anonymously, like a migrant, and these impulses, these idle flashes, are directly related to my daily movements and activities. i’ll provide an example. after performing (as a singer in the North indian classical tradition) at an expatriate Bengali’s house in salt Lake – a relatively recent suburban development – i was given, in lieu of a fee, a gift. My benefactor was a gentle soul and a minor patron of the arts and also a typical NRi – Non-Resident indian – spending more than half the year in California, and who winters (when he organised these soirées) in Calcutta. the gift was, in its way, a progeny of the time – a lamp (a faux tiffany lamp, my wife instructed me) with a ‘proximity switch’ so that it would light up every time you went near it. What to do with it? Usually, we’d donate it to an unsuspecting but appropriate recipient, but this time i had a sort of mock-epiphany, an artistic solution that came seemingly from nowhere: i’d exhibit it. the rubric would be ‘unusable gifts’ – we had many of those, but had simply not thought of collecting them. i could enumerate two other exhibits instantly: a violently purple shawl that was a wedding gift to my wife from a close relative, and something she’d instantly known she’d never wear; and a rather beautiful black horn from assam, given to me on a visit to Guwahati, which made a sound if you blew on it, but which i had no real reason to blow on, and no place to display except a cursory bookshelf.the next exhibit might
arrive in the next few days, or in a year, or more. Marcel Duchamp said of his readymades and ‘found objects’ that you couldn’t go looking for them; they couldn’t be anything – you had to wait for them. the same was true of the project germinating in my head: patience, vigilance, and cunning were all essential for it to take shape. having mentioned Duchamp, i should recount a rather frivolous idea – a direct spin-off from the Frenchman, maybe a homage. as we know, Duchamp’s most famous readymade was a urinal, which he shifted to an exhibition space, turned upside down, and named Fountain. here in Calcutta, the public urinals are often in a disgraceful condition and you wouldn’t want to touch them, but they’re outnumbered by public urinators, at street corners, whether or not there’s cover, standing by a low bush or a wall. at some point, the irritation i felt on my sightings melted into a theme: crucially, but unavoidably, invoking Duchamp, ‘indian Found Objects’. But how to transport a urinator to an art gallery? the simplest solution would be stealthy hand-held handycam (since CCtV on the streets is rare), perhaps inverting the image (though that may be stretching the parallel thin); yet it may well be intriguing to see the arc of piss shoot skyward, rather than down. i’LL shaRE a last idea before returning to my other lives. it has to do with Calcutta’s renowned sweet shops, most of them little more than cubbyholes that have somehow withstood, fortified by an indelible soot, globalisation and change. these are franchises that must have arisen in the 19th century – one fried sweet, the ledikeni, was named to commemorate the Governor General’s wife, Lady Canning. While other trades vanish, customers still crowd these places. i’ve often been struck by the large, framed picture that invariably hangs on the wall, a portrait in sepia of the founder-owner, whose vision of the future unfolds in his absence, as sweets are selected and rupee notes exchange hands. they have the air of the great men of the Bengal Renaissance (which they probably are, without being so acknowledged), the air of the extraordinary possibility of the time, of coming more or less out of nowhere and yet leaving an impress on history. in tone and texture and demeanour, they’re very like the pictures you see on the fly-leaf of Bengali modern classics, of poets, novelists, playwrights; but, of course, they’re not poets or novelists. i’ve long been planning to take pictures of these pictures – from the walls (for example) of Bhim Nag, Ganguram, K. C. Das, and Balaram Mullick – till i have a whole album of these powerful personages: then put them up in a gallery. alas, i don’t even have a good camera, let alone any training in photography. however, i notice that many artists weren’t born artists, or even trained to be one. Jeremy Deller, whose work i much admire, confesses he was never any good at art. increasingly, it all begins to look like a scam. n Amit Chaudhuri’s latest novel The Immortals is published in the UK by Picador; his album This Is Not Fusion is available in the UK through Babel
72
18/03/10 11:38
«mArcel duchAmp sAid of his reAdymAdes And ‘found objects’ thAt you couldn’t go looking for them; they couldn’t be Anything – you hAd to wAit for them»
73
BRIC_Chauduri_70-73.indd 73
18/03/10 11:38
object lesson: lot 15 A MASH-uP iN music is created when at least two often wildly disparate songs are brought together to make something new and significant. The combination of Dolly Parton’s ‘Nine to Five’ and Destiny’s Child’s ‘Bootylicious’ by the collective 2 many DJs is not only one of the greats of this genre but a clear illustration of the concept. Lygia Clark’s Bichos from the 1960s are a classic artistic mash-up.They are like combining a Malevich Suprematist Composition from 1916 with Yoko Ono’s performance Cut Piece of 1964. A bicho, named after a small animal or insect, is a work of sculpture constructed of cut-metal articulated wedges, triangles, squares or circles that is meant to be manipulated into innumerable combinations by a participant. Clark was one of the Neo-Concrete artists that re-defined art in Brazil in the 1960s and almost all subsequent artistic production there. She and the other Rio-based Neo-Concretists like Hélio Oiticica and Lygia Pape conceived of their work as a direct response or negation of the 1950s Sao Paulo-based Concrete movement and its exaltation of a rational and mathematical Constructivist-based abstraction. Sao Paulo was, and continues to be, the economic heart of the nation and it is not difficult to see a link between the rapidly industrialising postwar economy and the aims and interests of the Concretists (even if they were influenced by work from 30 years prior); likewise, the emergence of the NeoConcretists seems an equally natural response, as the group’s work emanated from a city of corroded colonial decadence that fairly beat with a palpable sensuality and rhythm. Much Neo-Concrete work was in the form of performance and has at its core a balance between the abstraction of the pictorial, the artistic process and a distinctive human engagement. The bichos are a literal reflection of the Neo-Concrete desire to rethink the pictorial and connect the making of art to the observer. Each time they are changed by the viewer, they are made anew, each individual experience becomes a performance in which the viewer becomes the artist. A sculpture exists as a performance – it’s a mash-up. n Lygia Clark 1920–1988, Bicho, c. 1960
Anthony Caro’s modernist sculptures and installations, indebted to the Russian Constructivists, are principally made from industrial materials, like steel and concrete, which are then welded or bolted together. Inhabiting the hazy line between architecture and sculpture, his works are devoid of plinths, and invite viewer interaction.
Hélio Oiticica’s Spatial Relief (1959) captures the essence of the NeoConcretist philosophy of a new subjective formalism. A homage to the Russian Constructivist Vladimir Tatlin, here Oiticica has already started to focus on colour and make use of his signature monochrome warm palettes such as orange, brown and yellow.
Most recently seen in Suely Rolnik’s installation at Raven Row reminiscing about his escapades with Lygia Clark, David Medalla’s work defies categorisation. His signature Bubble Machines, such as the one above from 2007, clean the air of galleries whilst poetically blurring notions of solidity and permanence.
A lifelong friend of Lygia Clark, Caetano Veloso is most often associated with Tropicalismo, an avant-garde 1960s movement in Brazil, which encompassed art, music and theatre. Tropicalismo strove for ‘total fusion', the results being an eclectic mix of African and Brazilian beats with rock and roll.
Caro: courtesy CAS Sculpture Foundation. Oiticica: © Hélio Oiticica, Tate, photo Cesar Oiticica Filho/Projeto Hélio Oiticica. Medalla, Bubble Machine, 2007, courtesy Galerie Kai Hilgemann Berlin. Veloso: photo Fernanda Negrini, courtesy Nonesuch Records
words rodman primack
74
BRIC_BRAZIL_Objectlesson_74-75.indd 74
18/03/10 11:32
BRIC_BRAZIL_Objectlesson_74-75.indd 75
18/03/10 11:32
BRIC_Polissky_76-79.indd 76
18/03/10 12:02
Nikolay Polissky photographed with Large Hadron Collider 2005. Photo: Andres Lejona
Nikolai polissky moviNg heaveNs aNd earth words Milena orlova
BRIC_Polissky_76-79.indd 77
18/03/10 12:02
From left: Volcano (2009), Lighthouse on Ugra (2004)
78
BRIC_Polissky_76-79.indd 78
18/03/10 12:03
and often trendy to undergo the difficult trek to the village. in 2003, the village came to Moscow and attracted a more urban audience which appreciated the mix of sophisticated art forms put together with local materials and basic manual skills, as well as the readily available copious quantities of local moonshine. Nikolai remains the father figure, his sturdy figure reflecting his great physical strength. He also has the necessary charm to inspire others to work with him, a gift that has enabled the production of extensive structures, as well as well-attended feasts. The yearly festival allows urban Russians the rare incentive to travel outside the city and enjoy the fast disappearing peasant life. His work has recently emerged from his native Russia and he was recently in group shows in Bordeaux, France and Miami, Florida. KAREN WRIGHT
NikoLAi PoLissky wAs born in 1957 and first trained in ceramics in st Petersburg, becoming one of the group of Mitki artists there. The movement, named after the artist Dmitry shagin, has been described as ‘an ironic hybrid of Tolstoyism and hippy philosophy.’ it set the mood for Nikolai when he moved to the village Nikola-Lenivet, some 200 kilometres west of Moscow. There he co-opted villagers to work with him building large structures, often imitating famous foreign monuments, cobbled together out of humble local materials including snow, wood and hay. The first work was an army of 220 snowman with carrot noses and helmets made of buckets. in the spirit of Joseph Beuys, he believes that all life can be art and that anyone can be an artist if they live an artful life. News of these installations soon travelled through the grapevine in Russia attracting the heartier 79
BRIC_Polissky_76-79.indd 79
18/03/10 12:03
Clockwise from top left: Likhoborskie Gate (2005), Snowmen (2000)
Photos of artworks courtesy Nikolay Polissky
Aqueduct (2002), Firewood Tower (2002)
80
BRIC_Polissky_80-83.indd 80
18/03/10 12:05
Below: Firebird (2008)
AN imPosiNg bAle of hay, swept up into a tower of babel à la brueghel – that’s the first thing a visitor sees at an exhibit called Futurologies. Russian Utopias, which opened in march at moscow’s garage Center for Contemporary Culture. it’s clear what the Parisian curator Hervé mikaeloff and his moscow colleagues saw in this work by the collective Nikolai Polissky and Nikola-lenivets Crafts (polissky.ru). After all, Vladimir Tatlin wrapped his Monument to the Third International in the same spiral. but it seems as if a reference to the Russian avant-garde is the last thing on Nikolai Polissky’s mind – his artistic utopia does not aspire to be of worldwide proportions. This is a different story altogether, which, to paraphrase the title of Alexander solzehnitsyn’s pamphlet ‘How to Rebuild Russia’, could be called ‘How to Develop the Village of Nikola-lenivets’.
To be fair, when the successful moscow artist Nikolai Polissky (a participant in the art group mitki, which was unbelievably popular in Russia in the 1980s and 1990s) bought a house in the early 2000s in a semi-abandoned, picturesque village called Nikola-lenivets on the banks of the Ugra river in the Kaluga oblast (200 kilometers from moscow down a bumpy, battered road), he wasn’t driven by missionary zeal. Nor did he have an intricate plan devoted to the social rehabilitation of a remote corner through artistic production. The idea of drawing local residents to the making of art emerged by accident, almost as a lark – their first collaborative work was an army of several hundred snowmen occupying the Nikola-lenivets hillside. behind this lay a joking reference to a famous episode in Russian history: according to legend, it was exactly on this spot that the great stand on the Ugra River 81
BRIC_Polissky_80-83.indd 81
18/03/10 12:05
«Yes, we’re also scientists, but from the village. what can You do, we live in the forest»
is it that Nikolai Polissky himself hides his own urbane professionalism under the mask of ‘an artist of the people’. It’s possible that the central element of the project is that the artwork made in this field has a truly national popularity. And this is a unique event in contemporary Russian art, which the broader Russian public traditionally refuses to accept as its own, accusing it of elitism and ‘incomprehensibility’. The collective’s constructions, on the other hand, seem native and natural to the Russian soul, at least at the level of materials – the construction of sculptures out of fallen branches found in the woods is a widespread Russian hobby.
took place; n 1480, after standing across from each other for a while, the cavalry of the Golden Horde (under the command of Akhmat Khan) and the troops of Moscow’s Ivan III (who had stopped paying the Horde its annual tribute) peacefully parted ways without engaging in a battle, and as it’s now written in schoolbooks, this moment marked the end of the Tatar Yoke. But Nikolai Polissky did not merely limit himself to Russian themes: in the summer, hay was stacked in the form of Mesopotamian ziggurats; in the winter, Roman aqueducts were built out of snow, and logs were arranged to resemble Egyptian pyramids. The impulse to recreate these monuments of world civilization from local materials in and around the village became more and more ambitious, calling for the involvement of not just the odd volunteer, but a qualified, close-knit brigade, which could plan and create sophisticated projects: many meter-high towers of cane and brush that recalled Eiffel’s constructions or the lighthouse at Alexandria; a Taj Mahal made out of twigs; or even the Baikonur cosmodrome, complete with rocketshaped baskets. And since there was no industry to speak of in this abandoned village – it’s located within the Ugra National Park and Nature Preserve – able-bodied locals willingly joined the artistic collective under the leadership of ‘Uncle Kolya’, – the villagers’ nickname for Nikolai. The undertaking took the name ‘Nikola-Lenivets Crafts’, but you won’t find gift boxes, embroidery, toys, or other tourist souvenirs, which are usually associated in Russia with folk art – what you’ll find instead is contemporary art, which closely engages with the question of nationality. What’s important is not merely that the collective employs so-called common peasants (the collective currently has about fifteen members); nor
EvER sINCE PoLIssKY’s helping hand led Nikola-Lenivets to hold Archstoyanie, a yearly Land Art festival, it’s not just art critics who head to the Kalugan village, but thousands of tourists. For a few days, all of the attention transforms this remote corner into a site of mass promenades. Happy to take a break from big construction sites, leading Russian architects, as well as their international colleagues, build an ingenious little shack in nature’s midst, or a pavilion on a float on the river, or an ecologically pure gazebo. In the summer of 2009, Nikola-Lenivets was even visited by a delegation from versailles, which, with its typically French grace, graced the Russian field with its landscaping prowess. And of course the main draw and attraction of Nikola-Lenivets remain the works of Polissky and company, which have brought the artist real fame and rare commissions to design public spaces – that’s why a 280-meter-long ice slide was constructed in the center of Nizhny Novgorod, something that hadn’t been built since the era of empresses Elizabeth, Anna, and Katherine the Great, who loved such entertainments. And in the Moscow suburb of Likhobori, an impressive triumphal arch has appeared – almost like the one in Paris’s La Defense, only assembled out of branches of wood from the banks of the Ugra. In 2007, Kremlin ideologue vladislav surkov wrote a sympathetic essay about Polissky’s artwork, which was published in the journal ArtChronika. This publication gave some critics an excuse to speculate that Polissky was a government artist, and that his art was something akin to a contemporary Potemkin village, an optimistic decoration with decorative peasants, concealing the wasteland that reigns in the rural Russian backwater. But to get a sense of the artist’s skeptical attitude toward the Russian authorities’ imperial rhetoric, it’s enough to glance at works like Firebird, his fireworks-breathing oven, topped with a two-headed eagle, which, in spite of its fairytale name, is more likely to evoke associations with a terrifying dragon – or his Border of Empire, a stockade of wooden totem poles placed in an empty field, on top of which sit the very same officious two-headed birds. Moreover, the work of Polissky’s collective, with his (artistic) deliberate archaic character, emphasis on gumption and manual labour, and his use of available natural materials (from the neighbouring wood), could realistically be seen as a mockery of the current official doctrine of Russian progress toward modernization and the high-tech realm.
Large Hadron Collider (2009)
000
BRIC_Polissky_80-83.indd 82
18/03/10 15:12
Portrait of Nikolay Polissky by Sergey Shakhidzhanyan
When Polissky was asked to explain the idea of one of the collective’s most recent works, a grandiose installation called the Large Hadron Collider, he said, not without irony, ‘Yes, we’re also scientists, but from the village. What can you do, we live in the forest’.What those who live in homes still heated by wood fires think about the great scientific experiment to split matter was clarified last summer in all of its wooden glory at luxembourg’s museum of contemporary art (mUDAm). The entire entourage of a hightech science laboratory, which was perfectly suited for a sci-fi film set, was built of natural materials – even the electrical wires, which were made of cane. Despite the fame and numerous prizes as well as the national adoration that have all come his way, there has still been no official recognition in Nikola-lenivets’s home country. There has yet to be a one-man show in a Russian museum. While, on the other hand, foreigners compete to invite Polissky to build something for them. in spite of all of its patriarchal qualities, this artistic production has turned out to be sympathetic to the international ecological movement. Polissky’s projects don’t harm a single tree – instead, he only uses trees that are dry, fallen, or ravaged by insects. in Nikola-lenivets, the principle of a product’s purity is sacrosanct, and it’s a principle that extends even to the local home-brew and other delicacies used to welcome guests. in Russia, Nikolai Polissky is often associated with land art, but this is only part of the picture. His work touches on national mythology, while still being grounded in historical reality. The experience of developing a village with natural materials using art as the subjectno longer seems so utopian. Unlike Tatlin’s Monument to the Third International, which was never realized, the towers of Nikola-lenivets stand firmly on the ground. n Translated from Russian by Mark Krotov. Ziggurat by Nikolai Polissky is on view at Russian Utopias at the Garage, Centre for Contemporary Culture in Moscow, until May 23; 19a Ulitsa Obraztsova Moscow, tel (+7 495) 645-05-20, www.garageccc.com 83
BRIC_Polissky_80-83.indd 83
18/03/10 12:06
Yin Xiuzhen photographed at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, 24 February 2010
BRIC_Yin_84-89.indd 84
18/03/10 12:13
yin xiuzhen floating in a tin can words BarBara Pollack | PhotograPhs Jongchul lee
BRIC_Yin_84-89.indd 85
18/03/10 12:13
ÂŤeven without the accoutrements of stardom, yin xiuzhen is emerging as the chinese artist most likely to succeedÂť
86
BRIC_Yin_84-89.indd 86
18/03/10 12:13
Most Chinese artists couldn’t give a damn about the boxy tin-can minivans that can still be seen hugging the roadways in the early morning around Beijing. Packed with itinerant workers on their way to the next construction site, these cars, ugly and practical without a shred of style, were among the first privately owned vehicles in China in the 1990s. these days, BMW and Cadillac sUVs are the cars of choice for Chinese entrepreneurs, including many artists who, due to the boom in the Chinese art market, can now afford these vehicles. But conceptual artist Yin Xiuzhen still drives her songjuajiang minivan which she inherited from her sister-in-law ten years ago. she views this simple car as a symbol of China’s recent past, a remnant of a time not so long ago when life in her hometown of Beijing was simpler and more communal. ‘a minivan once was a dream car, a very luxurious possession, but at the same time, it was like a taxicab, owned by several people so they could split the cost,’ says Yin Xiuzhen with the assistance of a translator, sitting outside her latest installation, titled Communal Subconscious, at the Museum of Modern art in new York. she is a mini-dynamo of a woman, compact and casually dressed with a tangle of frizzy black hair flowing down her shoulders. the work is a surrealist take on the vehicle, cut into two sections – front and back – and extended like a centipede by an accordion-like tunnel of fabric in the middle. Visitors are invited to step inside, to sit down on tiny homemade stools, and listen to a pop song piped within. the song, ‘Beijing, Beijing’, was number one in the charts in China recently, and features a male singer imitating the vocals of British rock star sting, with lyrics evoking the ups and downs of relationships in the modern metropolis. all of this may be lost on the audience at MoMa, but still it was obvious on this day in late February when the show opened, that people were enjoying a little down time in this funky retro minivan in the middle of the ultimate white-cube museum. Yin Xiuzhen is not the first Chinese artist to take over a space at the MoMa. Last summer, her husband song Dong filled the atrium of the museum with his work Waste Not, a collection of all his mother’s possessions stuffed into her tiny courtyard home, including plastic bowls, pots and pans, dozens of shoes and eyeglasses, hundreds of bottle caps and piles of old clothes, which took over every inch of the floor of the soaring space. according to MoMa curator sarah suzuki, who arranged both exhibitions, it is purely coincidental that the two halves of this Chinese art world power couple have been featured at the museum. ‘they bring a unique intellectual, aesthetic, philosophical rigour to what they are doing that really sets them apart,’ says the curator. ‘they rank among the most interesting artists working in China today.’ Certainly, Yin Xiuzhen creates artworks that distinguish her from the rest of the pack of Chinese art stars, most of whom are men making large-scale oil paintings, often employing hoards of busy assistants. since the mid-1990s, she has been making sculptures, performances and installations, often using used clothes and found fabrics, products of China’s huge recycling industry. ‘the work is so carefully thought out and elegantly produced and really dealing in a very meaningful and touching way about many issues,’ says suzuki. ‘they can be personal
BRIC_Yin_84-89.indd 87
18/03/10 12:13
issues such as family, or local issues about the tremendously rapid urbanization of Beijing and China at large, or these kinds of global issues about travel and movement and this nebulously international world in which we are living now.’ often, one work of Yin Xiuzhen’s can address several of these topics at the same time, resonating on many levels while retaining a homespun emotional tone. ‘China has developed so fast, you don’t have time to think about it,’ says Yin. ‘i want to make people slow down, sit down and think.’ she acknowledges that she can barely recognise her hometown within the contemporary city of Beijing, recently renovated to make way for the summer olympics in 2008. ‘it is impossible to find traces of the old city anymore, it is as if i am lost within the city,’ she says. Born in 1963, just three years before the start of the Cultural revolution, Yin grew up in a small one-bedroom apartment in the Chaoyang District, where she lived with her mother and three siblings. her father, who worked in construction for the military, was away most of the time. though her childhood took place during one of the most troubled times in Chinese history, she remembers it as mostly happy, proudly carrying Mao’s Little Red Book in her backpack and singing songs praising the Chairman at the start of every class. ‘Probably, if you talk to people who were older during that time, especially those who were considered antirevolutionary, you would hear a very different perspective,’ she says, ‘But for me, even though we had no toys or material things, it was a happy life. We lived in one big community where everybody felt like one big family.’ For Yin XiUzhen, the decision to become an artist came gradually, at first influenced by her older sister who loved to draw and paint. she attended Beijing normal University, graduating in 1989, the year that the national art Gallery in Beijing held its groundbreaking, China/Avant Garde exhibition, the first official show to feature sculpture, installation, photography and performance art. (the exhibition, considered quite radical at the time, was shut down for several days after a performance artist fired a revolver at the opening.) Four months later, the tiananmen square massacre happened, causing, among other things, a widespread government crackdown on experimental artists. But forYin Xiuzhen, the exhibition made an indelible impression, liberating her from oil painting to try out new forms and mediums. Western art also began making its way into Chinese art circles. she saw the first exhibition of an american artist – robert rauschenberg – in Beijing in 1985. she also recalls seeing a catalogue of work by artist George segal. ‘i was
so excited when i saw the way he turned life into art and art into life, i had to put down the book, walk around for awhile and pick it up again,’ she recalls. it is fascinating to see how these early impressions of contemporary art seeped their way into her first mature artworks. in My Clothes (1995), Yin assembled clothing she had worn over the past 30 years and encased the garments in cement in an old wooden trunk that her father had made for her. that same year, she undertook the performance, documented with photographs, called Washing the River in which she made blocks of ice from the waters of a polluted river, then took buckets and brushes and scrubbed ice blocks in public. though this technique of turning domestic tasks into art works was already very familiar in feminist circles in the west – indeed, this performance piece was featured most recently in the Global Feminisms exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum in 2007 – it was highly innovative in China, where women artists were almost entirely overlooked by the art market beginning to emerge in the late-1990s. not long afterwards, Yin expanded her project to include clothes from relatives and friends to create her Portable Cities (2000–08), miniature models of cities – shanghai, new York, Guangzhou, Lisbon, Paris, san Francisco, and others – constructed to pop-up from individual suitcases. By then, Yin was travelling widely to take part in biennials and museum exhibitions around the world. ‘My interest in global issues evolved naturally, from my own trips and experiences,’ she says. ‘i remember being struck by my first trip abroad to Japan. the way people think in China is so sporadic and chaotic, all over the place. in Japan, it was much more focused and orderly. i discovered that people perceived things quite differently in different places.’ as her visibility has increased over the past decade, Yin Xiuzhen has taken on evermore ambitious projects. in 2005, at her gallery, Beijing Commune (a project space run by the critic and curator Leng Lin, who is also the president of the Pace Beijing gallery), she created Where is the Brake?, a monumental soft sculpture of a motorcycle overturned on it side and resting on bloodlike carpet of red fabric, a metaphor for the outof-control urbanization of her native Beijing. in 2007, she represented China at the Venice Biennale, with the work Weapons, which filled the awkward space of the Chinese pavilion at the end of the arsenale with 210 missiles made of fabric and suspended from the ceiling, each in the shape of shanghai’s Pearl tV tower. and in 2008, at the shanghai Biennale, she stole the show with her Flying Machine, a mammoth private jet made of parts of tractors, an automobile, a plane and fabrics. Viewers could enter the cockpit to
see that every detail of the dashboard was stitched into place. her fascination with transportation – motorcycles, missiles, airplanes and minivans – comes from seeing the changes in a country where she grew up without even owning a bicycle. ‘in a rapidly developing country like China, fashion changes incredibly,’ Yin says, explaining why she uses recycled clothing as her primary medium. ‘People’s choice of the style of the clothes and how they feel compelled to abandon the old ones demonstrate their attitude towards life and the world.’ she views clothing as a ‘second skin,’ allowing people to change identities as their lifestyles change. Second Skin is the title of her show at Pace Beijing, opening in March, and it will mark the first time a woman artist has been featured at the gallery since it opened in 2008. For this exhibition, she has created ten new works, including a room-sized brain – again, large enough for visitors to enter – fashioned from fabrics ranging from blue to black. ‘the brain is the organ that allows us to communicate with other people, so i want people to walk in and make this interaction,’ she explains. she will also have a soft sculpture of a section of highway in the form of a bed, the street lights serving as reading lamps. eVen thoUGh this will be a prestigious event for the artist, Yin Xiuzhen seems modest and humble about the undertaking. after all, she and her husband – both now in demand as two of China’s most experimental artists – are not top sellers and their work rarely shows up at auction. they continue to live modestly with their sevenyear-old daughter in a small courtyard house on Xi hai Lake in the centre of Beijing. it is a poetic setting, where tourists come to get a glimpse of the old hutong neighbourhoods that have been largely wiped out in recent years but where old men can still be found fishing with long poles from the shore. Yin’s new studio, a 1,000 square metre warehouse about 30 minutes north of Beijing, is only partially heated and decidedly chilly in the winter time. and though she has a couple of studio assistants, she works mostly on her own, relying on fabricators to help her create the hardware frames for her soft sculptures. this is a simple life, very different to the luxurious lifestyle of many of her peers. But even without the accoutrements of stardom, Yin Xiuzhen is emerging as the Chinese artist most likely to succeed. her work makes a deep and lasting impression that merges her most personal touch with issues that resonate across the global art world. n Yin Xiuzhen’s Collective Subconscious is on show at MoMA, New York, until 24 May.
88
BRIC_Yin_84-89.indd 88
18/03/10 12:14
«china has developed so fast, you don’t have time to think about it. i want to make people slow down, sit down and think» BRIC_Yin_84-89.indd 89
18/03/10 12:14
nikolay bakHarev ToUCHinG FroM a DiSTanCe words brian dillon
image © Nikolay Bakharev, courtesy anya stonelake/White space Gallery
Nikolay Bakharev’s is an art of formalised intimacy: his images are the record of a certain type of ritual that unfolds between the private space of an encounter, and the social, commercial and economic conventions that surround that meeting of bodies and minds. Time and again in Bakharev’s photographs we are made to witness this process of negotiation: between photographer and model, between his sitters’ expectations and their fantasies, between the structures of an occasion or contract and the potential for openness, revelation (and embarrassment) that photography affords. Bakharev is at once instigator, enabler, critic and conscience – his subjects address the camera as if they know that it and he will betray them: this is what they want, and what they fear.
90
BRIC_Nikolay_bakharev_90-93.indd 90
19/03/10 06:14
From the series Relationship, no. 8, 1986
91
BRIC_Nikolay_bakharev_90-93.indd 91
19/03/10 06:14
Above left: from the series Relationship, no. 98, 1998–99 Left: from the series Relationship, no. 62, 1991–93
all images © Nikolay Bakharev, courtesy anya stonelake/White space Gallery
Much of the force of Bakharev’s work arises out of the specific conditions in which he first began to make photographs. in the 1970s, he worked at the Communal services Factory of Novokuznetsk in eastern siberia. his official remit was to photograph weddings and funerals, groups of children in schools and kindergartens, and such domestic or family scenes as were accepted under the social strictures of the soviet era. he was himself an outsider among these familial settings: orphaned at the age of four and raised in state institutions until he was 16, he seems at the start of his career to have baulked at the constraints of the time. (he was not alone: notionally ‘amateur’ russian photographers of the period were already producing and circulating images of a more intimate and artistic sort.) it was in the social interzone of the beach – officially the only space in which the body might be displayed and disported with ease – that Bakharev began to frame his signature approach, coaxing his subjects into a performance of togetherness with each other, and with themselves, that has marked his work ever since. Bakharev’s beach photographs of the 1970s and 1980s are exemplary of his insinuation of vulnerability and eroticism into public scenography, his drawing out of his subjects’ only slightly occluded intimacies. (he has since carried on his practice of importuning groups of bathers, giving away for free the images they find ugly or inappropriate and retaining the negatives for exhibition or publication.) These are pastoral images of a sort; so many of his sitters are dappled by tree-light, or retreat among the shadows, leaves and tendrils coiling around their half-naked bodies. Those bodies give themselves away in a manner that must have startled Bakharev’s clients, who perhaps expected a more conventional snapshot or something merely artfully bucolic. it is not just the signifiers of an unsanctioned private sphere – men with tattoos, for example, at a time when they denoted criminal tendencies or allegiances – but a staged excess of physical proximity that seems so affecting and even subversive now: a communal frailty only partly compensated by a woman’s aspirational fashionable swimwear or her lover’s bravado before the lens. it’s in Bakharev’s later domestic nudes, however, that we truly start to see the ambiguities of his encounters with his subjects fully expressed in the achieved image. The photographs are the products of a prolonged exchange: the search for a model, the delicate balance of the photographer’s theatricalisation of his sitter with that subject’s desire for self-projection or concealment. like his contemporary Boris Mikhailov, Bakharev is a consummate manipulator of his models, urging them to perform their vulnerability. But Bakharev’s is the more collaborative practice: there are residues here always of the subject’s self-projection, his or her desire to appear alluring or soulful, hedged around with the detritus of the encounter itself, which is often touchingly ritualised:
92
BRIC_Nikolay_bakharev_90-93.indd 92
19/03/10 06:15
the arrangement of teacups and whiskey bottles, bread and books, the awkwardly pinned backdrop and naively improvised uncoverings. like the swedish photographer anders Petersen, whose similarly adopts a prolonged relationship with his models and a tendency to show them undressed in domestic settings, Bakharev remains faithful to black and white. But in contrast to the starkness and grain of Petersen’s work, the pale body against a dark ground does not here represent a certain existential isolation. Bakharev’s bodies are rather garlanded and offset by numerous objects and decorated surfaces. home (even if it is not the individual’s actual home) in his photographs is a legible extension of the body: printed with garish floral motifs, wrinkled like flesh, punctuated with plants, food, animals and ornaments. Most of all it is the patterned fabrics: they envelop the models just as real trees and shrubs do in the beach photographs. it is as if the domestic
«THeSe are paSToral iMaGeS oF a SorT; So Many oF HiS SiTTerS are DappleD by Tree-liGHT, or reTreaT aMonG THe SHaDowS, leaveS anD TenDrilS CoilinG aroUnD THeir HalF-nakeD boDieS» nude is also a kind of pastoral; a dreamy young man stretches on a lush carpet; a mother and breastfeeding child are almost overwhelmed by vegetable motifs – the naked body becomes of a piece with its surroundings. But Bakharev’s works are also self-conscious rhymes and counters to the history of the painted nude and the conventions of glamour and fashion photography. (he spent some years as a commercial photographer in Moscow, before retreating to the provinces once more – the desires and the clichés of media imagery still function as a horizon against which his work arrays itself.) The self-consciousness is his own but also that of his models, who willingly adopt poses and attitudes drawn from the pictures, books and magazines that often attend their performances of their own presence. Two young women lie naked and languid (though unsure of themselves) beside a coffee-table volume of Modigliani nudes; another apes the coyness of a model on the cover of a photography magazine; a third adopts the etiolated pose of a helmut Newton model, a book of erotic art edging into the frame. in such photographs, as in Bakharev’s oeuvre as a whole, the model’s dream of another way of being brushes up against the body’s true presence in the world. n Above right: from the cycle Relationship, no. 51, 1991–93 Right: from the cycle Relationship, no. 35, 1978–80 93
BRIC_Nikolay_bakharev_90-93.indd 93
19/03/10 06:15
object lesson: lot 25 ALexANder KoSoLAPoV iS one of the leading figures of the Sots art movement. Sots art was a term coined by the artist duo Vitaly Komar and Alexander Melamid, who appropriated the aesthetics of Pop Art and Socialist realist art ironically to mock Soviet ideology and satirise Communist culture. The dualisms and ambivalence of Socialist realism that Komar and Melamid addressed in their work was continued in the work of Kosolapov. Kosolapov’s first important work, Lenin Coca-Cola (1980) places an image of Lenin against the Coca-Cola logo and its slogan ‘it’s the real thing’, so creating what has become an iconic combination of the symbols of east and West during the Cold War period. From a seemingly simple juxtaposition, this work derives a powerful political and ideological charge. Such a non-conformist stance, however, could only be voiced freely from abroad. Kosolapov, along with other russian artists, left for New York in 1975. According to him it was ‘the avant-garde capital of the world’ where he had the opportunity to explore the previously unseen canons of western art and embrace the freedom to work within a new cultural and social context. The symbiosis between American capitalism and Soviet ideology – achieved via the universal language of advertising and political slogans – is a recurrent one in his work. The series Russian Revolutionary Porcelain was made in 1989–90, during the time of perestroika in russia which eventually led to the collapse of the Soviet Union. These years gave way to a freedom of artistic expression previously unknown in russia and were significant for the underground and dissident Sots art movement. The subject matter of Soviet ideology has always remained present in Kosolapov’s work, but there’s also a sense of nostalgia for the time before the Stalinist era, when there was a collective enthusiasm for change and a creative energy. in Russian Revolutionary Porcelain, Kosolapov pays homage to two pioneering artists, Kazimir Malevich and Marcel duchamp. Unlike the latter’s Fountain, Kosolapov keeps the urinal upright, but also uses it to depict a Suprematist composition. Such an historical approach shows Kosolapov’s interest in creating what he calls a ‘common language of culture and address towards an anonymous viewer’. The use of porcelain references Malevich’s designs for the Lomonosov factory, previously the imperial porcelain factory, where the sets he produced in the 1920s promoted the radically new revolutionary aesthetic. The provocative nature of Russian Revolutionary Porcelain epitomises the Sots art movement in its ironic reaction to the utopian ideology that drove Socialist realism. n Alexander Kosolapov, b. 1943, Russian Revolutionary Porcelain, 1989–90 (detail)
Komar and Melamid’s Double Self-Portrait as Lenin & Stalin from 1972 typifies the subversive spirit of the Sots art movement. The work’s appropriation of Lenin’s image is an astute yet humorous critique of social realism.
Kazimir Malevich, the founder of Suprematism, produced works that balanced design with art, rationality and spirituality. Basing his paintings, such as the Suprematist composition above from 1915, on fundamental geometric forms, his works created a widely influential visual grammar in art and architecture.
One of the most frequently mentioned works of contemporary Russian art, Kosolapov’s Lenin Coca-Cola (1980), countered Lenin’s image with the Coca-Cola logo to draw attention to the shared coercive intents between politics and advertising.
Sherrie Levine’s (after Marcel Duchamp: A.P.) of 1996 reflects upon the legacy of the Duchamp readymade. Replacing the urinal’s porcelain with lustrous bronze, Levine alludes to the genre of institutional critique and its absorption into the art market.
Kosalapov: courtesy the artist. Komar and Melamid: courtesy Vitaly Komar. Malevich: courtesy Stedelijk Museum. Levine: © Sherrie Levine, courtesy of the Paula Cooper Gallery, New York
words tanya tikhnenko
94
BRIC_RUSSIA_Objectlesson_94-95.indd 94
18/03/10 14:42
BRIC_RUSSIA_Objectlesson_94-95.indd 95
18/03/10 12:12
claire hsu archiving the future words elaine ng | photographs william furniss
Claire Hsu photographed at the Asia Art Archive, Hong Kong, 23 February 2010
BRIC_Hsu_96-101.indd 96
18/03/10 11:42
BRIC_Hsu_96-101.indd 97
18/03/10 11:42
98
BRIC_Hsu_96-101.indd 98
18/03/10 14:42
Claire Hsu is probably the world’s most glamorous librarian. and in Hong Kong, better known as a centre of finance rather than education or culture, librarianship seems an unlikely career. Hsu is the co-founder and executive director of the non-profit organization, asia art archive (aaa), which is now ten years old. The venture is unique in a region obsessed with money and progress. Despite this, Hsu’s archive has grown to over 25,000 books, exhibition catalogues, periodicals and other documents related to the asian contemporary art scene. it sits comfortably on Hollywood road, the main thoroughfare for Chinese art and antiques in the island city, which fits Hsu’s background perfectly. Hsu, 33, was raised in Hong Kong, and studied Chinese language and history at the school of Oriental and african studies (sOas) at the university of london in the early 1990s. in 1993, she spent a year in Beijing learning Mandarin at Peking university. like all curious students, she was searching for something beyond the classroom. Hsu didn’t have to go very far: east Village – home to artists including Zhang Huan, Ma liuming and rong rong, who pushed their art to the extreme – was just steps away from the campus. ‘it was an accidental meeting where a
significant as stumbling upon the east Village. Hanart’s owner, Johnson Chang, was one of the first dealers to promote this group of fledgling bohemian artists outside of China. Hsu returned to london in the autumn and persuaded her professor, roderick Whitfield, to allow her to write her dissertation on contemporary Chinese art. armed with a new sense of direction, she went through sOas’s library and discovered there were very few titles on 20th-century Chinese art. she managed to complete her dissertation by trolling through and dissecting Johnson Chang’s library of books and catalogues that he had collected up to the early 1980s. ‘Obviously this was very new at the time,’ she explains. ‘if you go into Chinese art, very little is taught from the 20th century.’ after graduating, she returned to Hong Kong and met up with Chang again. ‘We were chatting and i was saying how amazing it was that while greater attention is being given to contemporary Chinese art, there is very little documentation of it,’ she says. ‘Together we came up with the idea of creating a platform that could document and archive what’s happening in China and make that material available to the public.’ although the impetus came from China, while Hsu put together a proposal for the project
spaces to different types of structures being built.’ Probed further, she says thoughtfully, ‘China obviously is the country that everyone has been looking too. and there are some amazing artists working there today, who cannot be ignored. unfortunately, it’s been very opportunistic, in the sense that everything is about now and there’s very little thought about the future and building a long-term infrastructure or support system. in a way this is normal considering the history of China and its recent turbulent past. i think a lot of the platforms and spaces that have been built in China are not in it for the long term. some of them are just empty efforts.’ One way in which the archive looks to contribute something substantial to the dialogue is a research project examining China’s 1980s art scene. Many of the biggest names in the Chinese art world making headlines today, from record auction prices to speaking out against social injustice, were active during the historical moment when Deng Xiaoping oversaw a gradual opening up of China in the early 1980s, followed by the brutal crackdown on dissent in 1989. This three-year project, entitled Materials of the Future: Documenting Contemporary Chinese Art from 1980–1990, is an in-depth, collection-driven
«everything is about now and there’s very little thought about the future. in a way this is normal considering the history of china and its recent turbulent past» group of foreign students were sitting in a bar and we decided to have a look where all these artists worked. They were showing paintings and playing the Beatles, and i was 17 at the time but i thought, “Wow! This is crazy, this is Mainland China?”’ she recalls, with a laugh. inspired by the experience, she returned to london to pursue an Ma in art history. at the time, neither sOas nor any other educational institution had an inkling of the burgeoning Chinese art scene witnessed by Hsu and her classmates. The venerable london institution offered its students access to treasure troves such as the British Museum and the sir Percival David Collection of Chinese ceramics. While Hsu was looking at fine examples of classical scroll paintings, ancient bronzes and ornate lacquerware, 5,000 miles away in the new Middle Kingdom artists such as Xu Bing were carving out 4000 meaningless Chinese characters on woodblocks for his project, Book from the Sky (1987–91), Zhang Xiaogang was just starting to paint his now famous Bloodline portraits and expressionistic figure painter Zeng Fanzhi was making the transition from his bleak Hospital Series to the cynical Mask Series. Hsu returned home in the summer of 1997 for an internship at Hanart TZ Gallery that proved as
over the next three months, she realised that very little research on Chinese art, or on the art made in other neighbouring countries, was being done in Hong Kong itself. ‘in the process it became clear that China had to be considered in the asian context. There were so many parallels in different countries even though there were so many differences,’ Hsu says. in 2000, the aaa officially opened as a public resource centre with about 500 books, catalogues and magazines with a specific focus on contemporary art from the region. in many ways, the archive has grown in tandem with the dynamic art scenes of China and india as well as Korea, Japan and Taiwan. Today, its comprehensive collection extends beyond the printed page, and includes the personal archive of thousands of documents from artists including Wu shanzhuan and Filipino conceptual artist robert Chabet. The organisation also offers a popular series of talks, an artist residency programme, video and audio interviews with key individuals working in the field, and a dynamic online database. When asked how the scene has changed since the archive was established, Hsu says, ‘in asia, there’s been an explosion in every level. in the market, in the public spaces, from artist-run
research project looking at the central artists, critics and curators of that era and will be unveiled in May to mark the archive’s tenth anniversary. another form of analyzing the material that aaa collects is by inviting artists to reinterpret resources. Hsu lights up when discussing this. ‘i believe they will find the archive a really useful resource for their own practice,’ she says. ‘it’s a two-way thing: they will also contribute new ideas to the archive.” raqs Media Collective, in New Delhi, known for its interdisciplinary and experimental art practices over the last two decades, including video and text-based photographic works, initiated the international residency program at aaa in March 2009. For one month, the group, comprising Jeebesh Bagchi, Monica Narula and shuddhabrata sengupta, who are treasured by artists and curators but who do not create commercially-driven work, came to Hong Kong and mined the aaa’s materials, creating a site-specific installation within the organisation. ‘Their project was more research than practice,’ Hsu says. ‘and in a country like india it’s important that they can address social issues in that practice.’ For aaa, the trio created random prose out of words they found in titles in the archive’s collection, printed the text on index
99
BRIC_Hsu_96-101.indd 99
18/03/10 11:42
cards, and then distributed the cards throughout the library stacks. This year, aaa invited Hong Kong-based French artist Cédric Maridet, who has made a sound installation of different readings of texts found in the archive. speakers are set throughout the library, so that browsers in the shelves hear voices reading passages in english, French, Japanese, Mandarin, shanghainese and Cantonese. looming in the background is the West Kowloon Cultural District, a vast development project with a government budget of $3.2 bn that is attempting to construct cultural life in Hong Kong from the ground up. The plans include a 40-acre complex of museums, theatres and commercial real estate that is scheduled for completion in 2031. Today, the numbers and the timeline seem more like a conceptual art project than an actual blueprint, but is it actually a welcome addition to a fairly lacklustre art scene dominated by commerce and real estate development? Hsu is uncertain. ‘if you get together with a group of artists today, no one really talks about the district any more,’ she says. ‘You have to question whether a project on such a huge scale is the answer to all of Hong Kong’s art needs.’ Perhaps it is a worrying prospect, considering that few impartial private, non-government museums exist in China today, and currently in india the main arena for art remains the commercial gallery scene.
«the museum system in china needs serious reform. or maybe we need to rethink museums entirely. the western notion of a museum may not function in china» Will museums in asia play an important role in the making of artists’ careers as they do in london, New York or Berlin? Hsu is sceptical. ‘i don’t think they play an important role. Museums are rented spaces in China,’ she explains. ‘The only museum of note is the shanghai Museum of art for traditional Chinese art.’ Might relief come from the growing number of individuals of ultra-high net worth from the region, as collectors pick up the slack? ‘it’s not like america,’ Hsu replies, ‘where you have a very different patronage system. i don’t see that happening in asia. The museum system in China needs serious reform. Or maybe we need to rethink museums entirely. The western notion of a museum may not function in China.’ Just how this picture will unfold in China, india and their neighbouring countries – many of them potentially the next big players in the international art world – no one knows. But one thing is certain: that the story will eventually be found, not forgotten, at the asia art archive. n Asia Art Archive,11/F Hollywood Centre, 233 Hollywood Rd, Sheung Wan, Hong Kong, www.aaa.org.hk 100
BRIC_Hsu_96-101.indd 100
18/03/10 11:42
101
BRIC_Hsu_96-101.indd 101
18/03/10 14:43
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 102
18/03/10 11:26
ansuman biswas the kindness of strangers words sarah kent | PhotograPhs ChristoPh ferstad
‘I am not what I am’ (Iago in Othello by William Shakespeare) ‘I know I am a misfit, an immigrant torn between cultures, continents, languages, disciplines.’ (Ansuman Biswas)
ANSUMAN BISWAS has just completed a residency at the Stanley Picker Gallery at London’s Kingston University. For this project, entitled Present, the artist entered the gallery with nothing and stayed for five days, depending totally on the generosity of the visitors who were encouraged ‘to bring whatever they think [he] might need or want’.The purpose was to encourage people to consider the implications and morality of charitable giving, a subject all too fresh in our minds with the Haitian earthquake disaster. ‘Today, aid is big business’, Biswas has written, ‘and can be a balm for post-colonial guilt and a lubricant for a post-industrial economy, where poverty and luxury have shifting definitions. Charity can be highly performative; played out in Live Aid, Red Nose Day, Children in Need, and the adoption of third world babies by Hollywood A-listers.’ Since his abstinence was self-imposed, no one needed to feel obliged to contribute anything. And by stripping away issues such as obligation and guilt, his request highlighted the importance of empathy in human relations and laid bear the dynamics of giving and receiving. The photographer who took the pictures on these pages gave Biswas a pencil and notebook in which the artist wrote: ‘The awkwardness of the first few moments. What are they watching? What kind of space is this? Let’s invent it: something between the hushed silence of a church or theatre, the noise of the Hindu temple and the freedom of the wilderness.’ Photographs from the first day show the naked artist practising yoga and running, dancing, singing or drumming on the walls to keep warm and to
Ansuman Biswas photographed during Present, his residency at the Stanley Picker Gallery, 2–6 March 2010
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 103
18/03/10 11:26
get to know the space. His every move was watched by camera crews and students from the university photography and film departments. Did his nakedness make him feel vulnerable? ‘No, I felt free of baggage; it felt possible to become a simpler animal and achieve a beginner’s mind. And I felt free to move; it made me think of the ancient Greek idea of the gymnasium, in which the body and mind work together, as an embodied intellect. But I realised it was intimidating for other people; they felt more comfortable when I was decently covered up. Nudity is still controversial; a lot of people came to see a naked man.’ He WASN’T NAKeD for long. He was soon dressed in a hoody and a blanket printed with a leopard skin design; someone also brought a mattress, blankets and cushions. ‘Once I was given the cushions it became a convivial space, a space of equality’, he explains. ‘I sat in a circle with boys from a nearby sixth form college, an 89-year-old former research chemist and a local walking her dog; we had real conversations about giving and taking, and the meaning of life. It reminded me of Joseph Beuys’ idea for a workers’ university, where people learn through debate.’ On day three he created an altar-like arrangement of gifts. ‘It became a celebration of kitsch’, he recalls. ‘People brought loads of junk food and frivolous things; they obviously hadn’t really thought about me – it requires a leap of imagination to put yourself in that position – so were treating the event as a joke, like a stunt or game. One guy said he planned to bring me a crate of pink wafers, but the next day came back with a tub of water. On day four he was given a track suit and overcoat. ‘After that, when people asked me what I wanted’, he recalls, ‘I didn’t know how to answer because once I had the basics – food, water and shelter – I didn’t crave anything else. Then a brother and sister came who were really playful, and I loved it. I realized what I wanted was laughter; the greatest gift you can give is to be friendly. It’s a political act; by offering someone authenticity, equality and light-heartedness, you dignify them.’ On the last day, the gallery was packed with visitors, including children from the local art club who became beneficiaries of the sweets and toys. ‘I wanted to end as I had begun – with nothing’, he explains, ‘so I gave everything away except for a few mementos. Having so few possessions had made me feeI really light and happy. I need to give more and have less; it allows one more time to spend with people. Normally I’m so manic looking after my stuff – feeding my parking meter and polishing my shiny things! ‘Present was not a rejection of materialism, though,’ he continues, ‘but an opening up to that complex of ideas around feeling, empathy, compassion, sympathy. Giving thought to someone else is a skill; we usually think
day one «i felt free of baggage; it felt possible to become a simpler animal and achieve a beginner’s mind. and i felt free to move; it made me think of the ancient greek idea of the gymnasium» BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 104
18/03/10 11:26
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 105
18/03/10 11:26
«the awkwardness of the first few moments. what are they watching? what kind of space is this? let’s invent it: something between the hushed silence of a church or theatre, the noise of the hindu temple and the freedom of the wilderness»
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 106
of others in terms of spectacle or entertainment. People who treated the event as a spectacle brought glittery things that added to the spectacle, but I really appreciated those who brought blankets, a toothbrush and hot meals. It pointed out how essential and how unimportant stuff is.’ Born in Calcutta, Ansuman Biswas was brought to London at the age of three, but retains memories of the sound, smells and colours of his childhood. ‘They are part of the texture of my being’, he says, ‘though I can’t separate actual memories from the stories circulating in our family or songs my mother sang to us.’ He still speaks Bengali with his parents as well as with his children. When he was a child, though, he was desperate to fit in. He attended a comprehensive school in south Harrow and became the classroom swot. He was expected to study english at Oxford. ‘Higher education is a fetish among Bengalis’, he explains. ‘One aspires to be a learned professor like Rabindranath Tagore.’ But he rejected the idea of an elitist education and took a year out drawing, painting and writing before studying drama at Manchester University. Once there, though, he suffered a protracted identity crisis. ‘Instead of trying to be something I’m not – a cool white boy’, he explains, ‘I started to question who I was.’ It was the beginning of a painful and unproductive period that instigated a long process of reflection which has since informed and immeasurably enriched his life and work. He dropped out of college but was introduced to vipassana meditation, which involves focusing exclusively on physical sensations in the present moment – the very stuff of consciousness. ‘Vipassana meditation completely changed my life; I felt such strong affinity with it’, he says. ‘Since it originated in India two and half thousand years ago, I wonder how much this has to do with some kind of ancestral memory.’ Craving solitude, he now goes on ten-day retreats once or twice a year and places meditation at the heart of his artistic practice. ‘I would like to base the rest of my life on it’, he explains, ‘but I don’t have the strength of character to become a monk. I’ve found a way to shape my life around it, though; it’s what all my work is about.’ ANOTHeR LIFe-CHANGING event came in the form of two bongo drums lobbed through his open window. This event prompted him to begin playing music, and, coupled with meditation, this set him on a new path. Cramming for a music ‘A’ level brought home the bias of academic teaching. ‘According to the western education system there was nothing worth studying other than the european high art tradition’, he recalls. ‘I realized I’d been written out of my own history.’ He enrolled at Dartington College in Devon, a multidisciplinary establishment which accepts students without prior training in western classical music, and studied the tabla and sarod under an Indian master. He soon became involved in the visual arts and theatre departments and began
18/03/10 11:26
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 107
18/03/10 11:26
day two «once i was given the cushions it became a convivial space, a space of equality»
108
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 108
18/03/10 11:27
day three «a bbc news photographer came who just wanted to grab a story. he wouldn’t engage in conversation because, he insisted, he was just a wage slave not a human being. he made me very angry so i took all my clothes off, sat in a yoga position and closed down to point zero»
109
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 109
18/03/10 11:27
day three «it became a celebration of kitsch. people brought loads of junk food and frivolous things; they obviously hadn’t really thought about me»
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 110
18/03/10 11:27
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 111
18/03/10 11:27
touring with the Bow Gamelan ensemble performance group founded by Anne Bean, Paul Burwell and Richard Wilson. He has since continued to work in various disciplines; he dances, acts, writes, makes films and plays many kinds of music (from jazz to pop and fusion), performing with Courtney Pine, The Specials, Talvin Singh, Nitin Sawhney, Oasis, Cornershop and his own band Newanderthal. He is in demand as a composer, writing music for the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, english National Opera, The Royal Ballet, Sonic Arts Network and Guangdong Modern Dance Company in China and for theatre productions such as Life is a Dream (Donmar Warehouse), Dr Faustus (National Theatre) and Beauty Sleeps (Young Vic). Meditation is central to his practice as a performance artist. Rather than making objects, he prefers to use his physical presence as a way of provoking debate about our assumptions, beliefs and values. ‘I think of myself as a sculptor creating neurological connections, sculpting the self rather than creating finished products’, he explains. ‘Artworks are epiphenomena, sloughed off like dead skin, and should not be fetishized. I can’t stop making stuff like drawings, photographs and recordings which are great as diaries or records, but I prefer making things like music and poetry, because there’s nothing to grasp and hold onto.’
numerous electrodes fed data about his physical well-being into a computer, which coloured the image accordingly. The physical changes brought about by his self-induced mood swings thereby produced a constantly shifting portrait – the electronic equivalent of expressionism. I interviewed the artist for the first time last year, when he was about to spend forty days and forty nights as the Manchester Hermit, incarcerated in the gothic tower of the Manchester Museum. Many of the 4.5 million items in the museum collection are permanently in storage. Most were collected in the 19th century, when people commonly believed that all life on the planet was subject to our sovereign will, an assumption Biswas is keen to challenge. He chose forty of these hidden relics on which to focus attention, the first being a human skull. ‘I was asking what right we have to take things from the environment and put them in a museum’, he told me. ‘Its not good enough to adopt the Victorian ethos, lording it over a world that we hold ourselves above. We are part of an ecosystem in crisis and, if we don’t realize how dependent we are on things, some species will be lost before we’ve even found them’. Biswas further explains: ‘When I meditate, I become aware that things are in flux and decaying. The process of living involves destroying things; if you play an instrument, eventually it breaks; so is it better to preserve it in a glass case, or to use it? I was instigating a debate around ownership and value – who, in the post-colonial era, values what? And unless someone offered a convincing argument to save them, all the items chosen would be destroyed. I kept coming back to the theme of evolution and our relationships with each other and the planet. Most of our science comes out of a Victorian imperialist mindset, but life doesn’t have to be thought of as a battle for survival – with nature red in tooth and claw; it can be seen as a loving dance – with nature red in love and heart.’ One item was a honey bee, a species crucial to our survival but under threat because its immune system has been weakened – probably by our predilection for monocultures. Another was Malus niedzwetzkyana, a wild apple from Kyrgyzstan; the ancestor to most varieties of domestic apple, it is facing extinction. ‘I’m highlighting what we’re destroying and what we’re losing through natural attrition,’ Biswas explains. ‘The function of museums is not to just to embalm dead things, but to celebrate life.’ each day he outlined the significance of the chosen object in a blog and invited responses. ‘If there is no interest in it’, he wrote of the project, ‘things will just carry on as they are. Museums will continue to expand their
PreSent WAS NOT the first time he had been incarcerated in a gallery. In 1998, he spent ten days in a dark, silent box in the South London Gallery with nothing but drinking water. ‘Some of the time I didn’t know whether I was awake or asleep’, he recalls, ‘because my thoughts and dreams began melding together. I was worried about what would happen to my eyes after ten days in total darkness, but they didn’t atrophy or turn to custard!’ Three years later, he repeated the experiment at The Lab in San Francisco, whose affluent surroundings made his willed austerity the more cogent. Bridging the gap between art and science is a prime concern. He is a member of the Kira Institute, a cross-disciplinary colloquium on the philosophy of science at Amherst College, Massachusetts, and took part in a study group for the european Space Agency on cultural utilization of the International Space Station. In 2001 he returned to San Francisco to present Self/Portrait (1999), a performance project prompted by recent research into the relationship between emotions and physiological states. Sitting crosslegged in front of a video image of himself projected onto a large screen, he used meditative techniques to alter his state of mind. Attached to his skin, 112
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 112
18/03/10 11:27
day four «once i had the basics i didn’t crave anything else. then i realized what i wanted was laughter; the greatest gift you can give is to be friendly»
113
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 113
18/03/10 11:27
collections indefinitely as more and more things disappear from the rest of the world.’ There was a lively debate about the purpose of museums and, as a result, Manchester is planning to set up an apiary and possibly an orchard. The final item was the artist himself. ‘It was not about presenting myself to others’, he explains, ‘but exploring the dictum “know thyself”.’ And in his final blog he writes: ‘I feel such rage and resentment at the obstacles between me and my muse. In this artwork of my life I have vowed to devote myself to that very obstacle... This is such a difficult thing to do. And yet I am also laughing at myself, my earnest conflation of art and life.’ I asked him if he could envisage working in a similar way if he lived in India. ‘No, I couldn’t do this in India,’ he replies. ‘I’m aware of the privilege of my economic circumstances and education. And the India I have loved, dreamt about and refer to doesn’t exist. The aspiration in India is to be more western, while I’m aspiring to get close to an idea of India that is nostalgic.’ He shows me Danio rerio, a film about the zebrafish, a native of the River Ganges whose polluted waters drove the fish to the verge of extinction. The fish thrives in laboratories all over the world, though, because for genetic experiments it is a model organism – in part, because its body is transparent. Made during a residency in 2002–03 at the National Institute for Medical Research in north London, the film starts with the artist speaking in Bengali about his cultural roots. Wearing a lab coat and zebra mask, he then wanders round the sterile environment of the unit voicing the thoughts of the fish as it considers its immigrant status. He ends with a speech from Shakespeare’s Othello, in which Iago advocates dissimulation, since being honest and open (transparent) invites exploitation. ‘It was the openness of the Indians that allowed foreigners in,’ Biswas explains. ‘But being friendly opens you to abuse, and the relationship became exploitative. Iago’s message is that, in order to retain power, it is better to remain guarded and hidden.’ Iago’s speech concludes with the chilling words ‘I am not what I am.’ Metaphorically addressing issues such as immigration, exploitation, morality in scientific research and the preservation of species and cultures, this surreal sequence of monologues explores many of the concerns that provoke Ansuman Biswas to use his physical presence to stimulate debate. ‘I do it for my own benefit; I’m playing, but it’s a very serious game’, he says. n
day five «i wanted to end as i had begun, with nothing. so i gave everything away except for a few mementos. having so few possessions had made me feel really light and happy» BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 114
18/03/10 11:28
BRIC_Ansuman_102-115.indd 115
18/03/10 11:28
caetano veloso tropicalismo politics & pop words Julian dibbell
BRIC_Caetano Veloso_116-119.indd 116
19/03/10 06:21
BRIC_Caetano Veloso_116-119.indd 117
19/03/10 06:21
Photo by Fernando Young Brasileiro, courtesy Nonesuch Records
ONCE, NEAR ThE end of what has sometimes been called the American century, I asked the Brazilian singer-songwriter Caetano Veloso what he liked about the United States. he had recently been spending time there, recording an album in New York City and avidly visiting the art galleries, book stores, cinemas, and restaurants of Manhattan, yet it was none of those things, apparently, that came to mind when I put the question to him. What he mentioned were the milk cartons: ‘That carton that’s so easy to open. It’s a beautiful and practical object. here in Brazil, either you have this foil-lined box that you have to cut with a knife – khrrr! Khrrr! – or you have this squishy sack that you have to put into a special pitcher and cut one corner with scissors, being very careful not to spill it all over. In New York, in the States, the milk comes easily, you just open it, like that, and pour straight into the glass.’ Veloso paused in the midst of his rapture, then added: ‘Millions of things in New York are easy to open.’ In the English-speaking world, the 67-yearold Veloso is perhaps best known for his three-minute appearance in Pedro Almodóvar’s film Talk to Her – singing a quiet, elegant version of the Mexican mariachi ballad ‘Cucurrucucu Paloma’ – or if not for that, then for his equally sophisticated renderings of classic American and Latin pop standards (‘Cry Me a River,’ ‘La Golondrina’) on late-career albums produced with the global market in mind. These are ravishingly well-turned performances, exquisitely tasteful and seemingly worlds removed from any cultural universe in which a milk carton might be deemed a thing of beauty. And yet to know Veloso as Brazilians do is to understand how little these refined displays reveal of his omnivorous complexity. By contrast, the albums that put him on the Brazilian cultural map four decades ago were, often as not, the pop-musical equivalent of riots. Driving the buzz and howl of electrified rock into the lapidary cool of bossa nova and layering it all with whatever loose bits of aesthetic chaos were to hand – recorded fragments of street noise, bursts of orchestral bombast, antipoetic references to Coca-Cola, Carmen Miranda, and other uncouth tokens of commercial culture – the most delirious of Veloso’s early tracks
«his best work settles into a calmly inventive musical selfassurance that, for all its enduring pleasures, can only reinforce his gentleman-crooner image among those who have no idea what his portuguese is on about» deliberately embodied the principles of Tropicalismo, a late-60s cultural movement that itself fused elements of pop art, avantgarde poetry, and a radical, peculiarly Brazilian openness to the foreign. As it happens, Tropicalismo, too, now gets its share of interest from the English-speaking world, and while it’s hard to say exactly why, it’s hard to doubt the reasons have at least a bit to do with the aforementioned end of the American century. In the terms of that century’s prevailing geopolitical narratives, Tropicalismo was almost impossible to peg: scandalized by its embrace of the electric guitar and other ‘American’ influences, Brazilian leftists denounced the movement as a tool of U.S. imperialism, while the right-wing military dictatorship, equally alarmed by its cultural radicalism (but otherwise powerless to make sense of it), eventually resolved to arrest its two most prominent leaders, Veloso and fellow singer-songwriter Gilberto Gil, who spent two months in jail and another three years in forced exile on entirely unspecified charges. In retrospect, however, Tropicalismo looks more and more clearly like a groping reach toward the post-Cold War future we inhabit today: a world no longer quite so dominated by its hegemons, a world of furiously hybrid popular cultures, of hypernetworked foreign exchange, of mashups, small pieces loosely joined, and other now-familiar things once only dreamt of in Tropicalismo’s philosophy. We here in the heart of the newly unsettled Anglo-American hegemony could do worse
then, one supposes, than to learn what we can from that philosophy. We are sadly disadvantaged, however, when it comes to learning this lesson from what may be the best teachers we’ve got: the songs of Caetano Veloso. Among a certain swath of British and American hipsters, some of Tropicalismo’s lesser lights – the movement’s house band, Os Mutantes, for example, and its long-neglected weirdo-in-residence Tom Zé – have coasted to cult status on the strength of recordings that wear their infectiously quirky Tropicalista sensibilities on their musical sleeves. But after the audible experimental frenzies of Veloso’s first few albums, his best work of the following decades settles into a calmly inventive musical self-assurance that, for all its enduring pleasures, can only reinforce his gentleman-crooner image among those who have no idea what his Portuguese is on about. And that’s a shame, because it is precisely in Veloso’s words – and in their dance with the music that sustains them – that he has carried on and deepened his engagement with Tropicalismo’s most vital themes: the elusiveness of national and personal identity, the tragedies large and small of economic and political injustice, the concrete joys of language, creativity, consumption. I could dip into any decade of Veloso’s last three and come up with a handful of poetic dissertations worthy of a long evening’s study, but I’ll leave it at one: his ’70s classic ‘Terra.’ In Portuguese as in Latin, ‘Terra’ means earth, of course, and the song itself is a long, sinuously melodic meditation on the moment Veloso first saw those first images of the earth entire, shot from space. That Veloso happened to be in a military prison at that moment is a detail he neither belabours nor could possibly have left out, and it launches him into the miraculous accomplishment of a love song to the planet that somehow never lets the singer lose himself in abstraction. I suggest you get it in your earbuds by whatever means necessary, Google Translate the lyrics, press play, press play again, and learn. n Caetano Veloso’s latest album zii e zie was released on March 30 2010 by Nonesuch Records
118
BRIC_Caetano Veloso_116-119.indd 118
19/03/10 06:21
BRIC_Caetano Veloso_116-119.indd 119
19/03/10 06:21
BRIC_Raqib_120-125.indd 120
20/03/10 15:06
Raqib Shaw, Absence of God IV...The Blind Butterfly Catcher [detail], 2008
raqib shaw in the scented garden
© the artist; photo todd-White Art photography, courtesy White Cube
words charles darwent
Off the tOp of my head, I can not think of many artists whose studios you smell before you see. Such is the case with Raqib Shaw’s, however. Wander down the dingy North London street that is home to Shaw’s workshop and you suddenly find yourself sniffing the air. that almond-blossom smell… Jasmine? forsythia? Genroku incense? Since the aroma turns out to come from chez Shaw, the answer is, all of the above. If you’re a fan of Shaw’s work – in which case you’re in the company of such ill-matched bedfellows as Sir Norman Rosenthal and the New York Times critic, holland Cotter – then this floral effusion will come as no surprise. Shaw’s art tends invariably to the flowery: literally so, in the gardens of earthly delights that cover his often flower bed-sized canvases, and metaphorically, in the air of sickly abundance that clings to them. Modern painting has, by and large, been a place of colour fields, spontaneity, a broad brush and wide open spaces. None of the above applies to Shaw. his big panel pieces are worked over – bled over – with a meticulousness that verges on the mad. his surfaces look heavily worked, and they are. each flower (or skull or man-eating crayfish or winged penis) is built up in raised outline into a coffer of gold-stained glass pigment which is then filled with industrial paint, this being pushed around with porcupine quills of varying calibres. In his basement workroom, I watch Shaw – 35, beautiful, delicate, extravagant – set to work on a lotus flower with one of these quills, a tool suggested to him by, of all people, the wife of a texas senator. Both the medium and method are unforgiving. Car paint dries in minutes, so that it has to be manipulated at speed and can not be corrected. then there’s the size of Shaw’s work – in this case, a joined-up diptych measuring, at a guess, five feet by twelve. (A blank panel on the wall measures 10 feet by 30. ‘I pointed out to Jay [Jopling, his current gallerist] that there’s a groove down the right-hand edge for the next panel to slot into,’ Shaw squeals. ‘that one’s going to be 10 by 40, and the one after that is going to be 10 by 50.’) to reach the flower he’s working on, the artist has to stand on tiptoe and lean out over the panel like a picador – he has a small team of assistants to do the donkey work for him, but the skilled stuff he does himself. And then there is the fact that the industrial pigments, in works such as the Absence of God series, are deeply, worryingly toxic. As he cantilevers himself out over this new panel, Shaw – his hair held back in a pink silk bandana – rasps for breath through a respirator. I find myself thinking: et in arcadia ego. At first sight, Raqib Shaw’s work, like Shaw himself, wins you over with a voluptuous naïveté. Because of Shaw’s upbringing in Kashmir, critics of a certain kind have compared his mosaic surfaces to Mughal enamels or cloisonné miniatures. Others, clocking that Shaw’s family are seriously rich carpet-makers – ‘I didn’t give up industrial millions to become an artist, darling,’ he says, ‘I gave up industrial billions’ – have found a likeness to Kashmiri rugs. Both those things are there, maybe, but then so are persian crowns, hindu gods, Japanese and Chinese dragons and snakes and, pre-eminently, borrowings from the Old Masters of Northern europe. When I reflect that the jewelled skull which forms the focal point of the first Absence of God painting was made in the same year (2007) as Damien hirst’s notorious For the Love of God – a life-size cast of a human skull in platinum covered in diamonds – Shaw fixes me with a polite smile and says, ‘But mine is from holbein’s Ambassadors.’ 121
BRIC_Raqib_120-125.indd 121
20/03/10 15:06
want to make things, works of art, that I would want to live with, that remind me of my place here. Jay [Jopling] tells me it’s like a Renaissance atelier. he knows I like to hear it, and so that is what he says.’ If you were looking for a handy term for Raqib Shaw’s one-man school, in other words, it might be Anti-Naturalistic. Like the Duc Des esseintes, languid hero of huysmans’ À rebours [Against Nature], Shaw invents his life backwards. Dissatisfied with the real world, he creates a fantasy world in his art of flowers and koi carp, of birdsong and Japanese gardens; and when that world is made and Shaw sees that it is good, he brings it to life in three dimensions and wanders through it, sipping champagne. Jean Des esseintes famously (and fatally) had jewels set in the shell of a live tortoise, and you half expect the creature to appear from the orchids around Shaw’s carp pond, blinking moistly in the artificial light. All this is to give the wrong idea of Shaw, though. for all the my-dears and champagne flutes, he is, by his own estimation, ‘resilient as hell’. Before he could afford this ‘teeny garden’, he lived for years in one room in easternmost east London – a far cry from a Kashmiri childhood in which, he says, he had ‘a butler and, you know, servants.’ ‘You’ve heard of hackney Wick?’ he asks, politely. ‘Quite trendy now, but when I lived there they used to dump dead bodies and burn cars. Or maybe it was people. Anyway, something was always burning.’ It was poverty rather than modernity that led Shaw into industrial paints. ‘I mean, £80 for Michael harding Cobalt Blue! I used to live on £30 a week back then.’ When I ask if he was influenced by fellow carpaint-users such as Ian Davenport and Gary hume, Shaw looks aghast and says, ‘Oh no. I wanted to create my own language and, for me, it had to be materials-based. the contemporary art world – nothing exists of that here. I respect what they do in contemporary art, just as I respect what they do in politics – I mean, I have my opinions about both, but neither is for me. My oil painting skills are not that good: frankly, I was never going to be Bronzino. And I found I liked the tension of using industrial paints as though they were oils, of pushing new materials to do old things.’ the veteran talent-spotter, Victoria Miro, now a near neighbour, offered Shaw his first gallery show. the rest, as they say, is cash. Last October, his Garden of Earthly Delights III sold at auction for £2,708,500
All of which is to say that there is even more to his overwrought art than meets the eye. Shaw’s back-breaking, tortuous, toxic gardens are like beautiful snakes: lovely to look at but liable to be deadly. they are also difficult to fit into the canon of contemporary art, and they are meant to be. Although he went to Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design in London in the late 1990s, Shaw’s interests were not those of his fellow students. While they were hanging out in hoxton, he was haunting the National Gallery. ‘I did oils for two years at St Martins, but back then – I’m talking 1998 – painting was not in,’ says Shaw, stopping to sip at a glass of champagne. ‘painting now, I’m told, is so-called fashionable. But at St Martins, I was always the boy from Kashmir, the noble savage. I was doing painting and all the hip students were doing video and concept.’ Shaw takes another meditative pull of Moët. ‘You know, they’re closing St Martins in Charing Cross Road and moving it to King’s Cross, away from the National Gallery, the National portrait Gallery? Can you imagine the tragedy?’ It IS pROBABLY time I describe the place where Shaw is saying these unorthodox things. When you step through the unpromising street door of his combined house and workspace in North London, you are enveloped by the waft of flowers and then channelled along gravelled paths edged with bamboo fences, through full-grown Japanese maples and groves of blooming forsythia. taped birdsong fills the air. In the distance fountains play, their waters pattering into a pond of koi carp. ‘Norman fell into that,’ says Shaw absently, conjuring up the intriguing thought of the ex-exhibitions secretary of the Royal Academy face down in a pool full of fish. ‘he had to be pulled out.’ We sit on garden chairs formed from driftwood, beneath a Japanese umbrella of waxed paper. there is no natural light. (how is it that the maples have autumn foliage in february? ‘their leaves are dyed,’ says Shaw, patiently. ‘poor things, they’re rather confused.’) In fact, there is no natural anything. I do not feel mean saying this, since Shaw himself is in ardent agreement. When I mumble something about the artificiality of his world, he cries out with glee. ‘Of course it’s artificial, darling, entirely!’ he says, nodding rapidly. ‘It’s like me! I can not help myself, Charles. I find certain things beautiful. I
the mild-eyed melancholy of the lotus eaters III: © the artist, photo: ellen Broughton. Studio photo: © the artist. Both images courtesy White Cube
Above: Raqib Shaw, The mild-eyed melancholy of the lotus eaters III [detail], 2009–10; opposite: Raqib Shaw in his studio
122
BRIC_Raqib_120-125.indd 122
18/03/10 12:10
000
BRIC_Raqib_120-125.indd 123
18/03/10 12:10
– a record for what might, in other circumstances, be called a living Indian artist. With that unthinking category, too, Shaw has problems. ‘they say “a Kashmiri artist”, “an Indian artist”, “an artist from Kashmir, from India”,’ groans Shaw. ‘I mean, give me a fucking break. I was never inspired by carpets and those things. they’re my culture, sure, but they didn’t inspire me.’ he stops and sighs. ‘Most people who look at my work just see the surface – they don’t go beyond that, they don’t bother to think any further. they just say, “Oh wow, that really rocks!that’s, like, so awesome?! It’s atiffany’s window, it’s so decorative.” I mean, all that trouble to make decorative art, Charles. Why bother?’ And I have no doubt that is true, although another question hangs in the air: why go to all the trouble of making your art look as though it is decorative? Why the patterns and two-dimensionality, the colours and cloisonné coffers, the precious stones glittering from its panels? I’ll say now that I like Raqib Shaw immensely, that, in his utterly artificial way, I find him utterly real. You might say the same about his art. Works such as the Absence of God paintings are slippery things, and in various ways. even areas that appear flat, part of an apparently homogenous enamelled surface, turn out on inspection not to be: the Captain Marvel figure that recurs in Shaw’s work, for example, has an unmodelled body but a modelled head. the kind-of-illusionistic backgrounds of many of Shaw’s paintings seem to have nothing to do with the non-illusionistic foregrounds superimposed on them. Compositionally, as culturally and materially, there is a great deal going on under the surface of Raqib Shaw and his art. And what next? there is a big show in Sydney to make work for, and there is the eternal studio-in-progress. Shaw doesn’t do openings, has never been to dinner with his gallerist, hasn’t been to frieze. he hasn’t, in fact, left his house for years.the world and its wiles come to him. he weighs up his current mise en scène with an appraising eye and says, ‘Of course, I can’t really do Japan. Next time, I’ll present you with the lost Moghul gardens.they’re right up my alley, so they’ll have to be super-perfect. We’ll have ruins, we’ll have “Ozymandias”, I promise you we will.’ Raqib Shaw looks around him. ‘My mother was very into Sufism, and I remember her telling me about one of the Sufi mystics, a man who lived to a very great age. And when he lay dying, his followers came to him and asked, “So what has life been for you?” And he pointed across the room with his finger and said, “I came in through that door and I left through that one”.’ n
BRIC_Raqib_120-125.indd 124
the Blind Butterfly Catcher: © the artist; photo todd-White Art photography. Installation: © the artist, photo Stephen White. Both images courtesy White Cube
Above: Raqib Shaw, Absence of God IV...The Blind Butterfly Catcher, 2008; below: installation view of Absence of God at White Cube, London, 20 May – 4 July 2009
18/03/10 12:11
000
BRIC_Raqib_120-125.indd 125
18/03/10 12:11
BRIC_Nonna_126-131.indd 126
18/03/10 12:01
nonna materkova museums not m c donalds words ben luke | photographs david harrison
When I meet nonna materkova at Calvert 22, the gallery she founded in London’s east end, she is at pains to make sure, in the nicest possible way, that our conversation is dominated by the organisation, its aims and the team of experts that are developing the gallery’s programme, and not just by materkova herself. Initially I put her concern down to the wealth of gossip-column press focusing on the personal rather than cultural lives of other Russian women making waves in the art world, like Daria Zhukova (known as Dasha), the partner of oil billionaire Roman Abramovich, who founded the Garage Center for Contemporary Culture in moscow. But as our conversation continues, I realise that, despite her ambitious plans for Calvert 22 – the UK’s first gallery for contemporary Russian and eastern european art – she is genuinely modest about her achievements, anxious not to deflect attention from the accomplishments of the entire gallery team, and watchful about appearing too grand or hubristic. ‘I don’t want to appear narcissistic,’ she tells me straight away, and, later, ‘I don’t want to be seen as a missionary.’ materkova founded Calvert 22 (the gallery is at 22 Calvert Avenue in Shoreditch) last year. her background is as a financier, and she has been in the London since she was awarded a British Council scholarship in 1998. her recently acquired interest in contemporary art stems from her childhood in St Petersburg, the home of the great hermitage museum. ‘Of course,’ she says, ‘growing up in St Petersburg – Leningrad at the time – we didn’t have all these other entertainments, like
mcDonald’s and other things for children. We went to museums almost every weekend, and the opera, theatre and ballet. every little girl growing up in Leningrad played piano and did ballet, and went to the hermitage. this is where art becomes part of you – art was very, very important.’ her passion for contemporary art only emerged when she arrived in London. ‘I was going to museums like tate and other places, but then probably five years ago, I started to buy a little bit – I am not really a serious collector at all, I buy occasionally,’ she explains. ‘I started to buy Russian art, and was taken to artists’ studios by friends. I was fascinated by starting to see the world through different eyes. I was at mathematics school, my mother was a mathematician, and I am a financier and a businesswoman, and it’s all very matrix-like, but then art is a completely different world and I was fascinated by it. I did some short courses at Sotheby’s and started to be more and more interested. then, somehow, I was just by chance in this area, and this warehouse, completely empty, was for sale, so I thought I could do something with this space. this is how it happened.’ the kind of institution materkova wanted to create was partly informed by the misconceptions of her homeland that she had frequently encountered as a businesswoman in London. ‘One of the reasons to create this foundation is to show that Russia has talents and can be integrated in the world,’ she says. ‘I could see that Russia did not have a good image at all. Of course, it’s not perfect, as with any country, but I think that
Nonna Materkova photographed at Calvert 22, London, on 24 February 2010
BRIC_Nonna_126-131.indd 127
18/03/10 12:01
BRIC_Nonna_126-131.indd 128
18/03/10 12:01
Russia is much better than it has been seen here… With little projects like this, we can start to change that – I think a cultural platform is a good one to create a discussion.’ Despite her conviction about the purpose of Calvert 22, and her newly found interest in contemporary art, materkova admits that she is ‘still learning’, and has entrusted the gallery’s programme to a number of curators from the UK and abroad. ‘I’m not in the position to actually to run the programme and have any curatorial input,’ she admits. ‘this is my view – it should be a long-term project and very highly professional.’ Joseph Backstein, a curator of contemporary art in moscow for more than 20 years who was a founder of the ICA in moscow and a commissioner of the first three moscow Biennales, is a Calvert 22 trustee. his extensive experience in the interface between Russia and eastern europe and the US and western europe has informed the gallery’s programme. It was Backstein who introduced materkova to Iara Boubnova, the Bulgarian curator of Photo I, Photo You, this spring’s exhibition at the gallery – an impressive show featuring ten artists of different generations using photography and film, including Anri Sala and Boris mikhailov. Backstein likes this curatorial approach. ‘It was a good idea from the beginning that nonna invited both British and international curators to curate Russian and eastern european shows, because it gives a very independent vision and view of the contemporary Russian art scene,’ he says. ‘every time, they should be international shows, they should not be, as we say in the curatorial world, ethno-cliché. the task should be, every time, to put this geopolitical region into the international context, but naturally, not artificially.’ Sala’s presence in Photo I, Photo You is a case in point.the enigmatic and formally rigorous
videos by Sala, an artist born in tirana, Albania, and now based in Berlin, are a consistent and increasingly significant presence on the international stage. Long Sorrow (2005) which featured in Photo I, Photo You, is an intense film featuring the shrieks and squalls of an improvising saxophone player who sits atop an east Berlin tower block, looking over the city. titled after the inhabitants’ nickname for the building, the film, Sala has said, is a ‘requiem for the end of the dreams’. I have long admired Sala’s work, but seeing it in a new context, alongside that of other artists who were born or grew up under communism, enriched it even further. Calvert 22’s programme is overseen by its Artistic Director, Davidthorp, a former director of the Chisenhale Gallery and the South London Gallery. he has a strong interest in artists working ‘outside the western mainstream’ as he puts it, and his curatorial association with Russia goes back to Transformation: The Legacy of Authority, an exhibition of Soviet art he curated in 1989 at the Camden Arts Centre in London. though he only recently took up his current role, thorp was curator of the opening show at Calvert 22, Past Future Perfect, which set the ambitious standard for the gallery’s shows. It featured five Russian artists, Pavel Pepperstein among them, who, in a huge array of media, explored both personal and collective memory. thorp will continue to curate individual shows while overseeing the programme as a whole. ‘I am orchestrating, seeing how the programme looks as a whole across the year,’ he tells me, ‘how the rhythms work, and what kind of things we are going to present.’ One of the key issues for thorp is to find art that will translate to London. many artists working in Russia and eastern europe have developed an artistic language outside of the western canon of art in the west. the painter Arno Rink perhaps
«every little girl growing up in leningrad played piano and did ballet, and went to the hermitage. this is where art becomes part of you – art was very, very important»
BRIC_Nonna_126-131.indd 129
18/03/10 12:01
expressed this phenomenon best when discussing the individual style of the Leipzig School of painters: the Berlin Wall, he said, ‘protected the art against the influence of Joseph Beuys’. thorp admits that this ‘creates a challenge when you are putting that work in front of audiences who have developed with a different visual language and different art historical influences,’ ‘and that is one of the things that Calvert 22 has got to deal with as far as its programme is concerned. A Russian might suggest a show of an artist from moscow, but unless we can find a way of contextualizing this so that it makes sense to the London audience, it’s not going work, however interesting, profound, influential, or acknowledged that artist is in their region.’ nonetheless, materkova, Backstein and thorp are all clear that, with artists set in the right context, Calvert 22 has the opportunity to introduce an increasingly dynamic zone of artistic activity to its audience, and to further enrich the picture of art being made across the world. ‘One of the things that is interesting in contemporary art,’ says thorp, ‘is that we have this great upsurge of art that is important in its region, and these regions come together to make up this global presence. And now we begin to see places like new York as parochial – it strikes me that a
lot of the understanding of contemporary art in new York is very weak when it comes to developments in europe. What we are looking at now is a combination of different parochialisms that all come together to make up the international art world. Look at Charles Saatchi, he’s jumping around, showing art from the middle east, from India, from China, and you can be cynical about that, and say he’s just trying to create markets in those far-flung places, and buy cheap and sell expensive, or whatever. But it also demonstrates that there are these very significant regional points, and that’s the way things are. And Russia and eastern europe are part of that.’ materkova admits that opening Calvert 22 was a risk, with no real benchmark to measure the institution against. ‘I had no idea how it would be,’ she says, ‘but we are so pleased, because when we started we didn’t know if it would be interesting or not for the public, but we have had a lot of interest from different people, from young people and students, but also the City is next door, and internationally – people from different countries.’ Importantly, the benefits of Calvert 22 go both ways – materkova hopes to establish greater links with her homeland. ‘We’d like to organise exchange and education programmes because,
joseph backstein in conversation
«the task should be to put this geopolitical region into the international context, but naturally, not artificially» JOSePh BACKSteIn IS perhaps the person best placed to judge the Russian art scene’s recent leaps forward. he is a veteran curator on the moscow contemporary art scene – he founded the Institute of Contemporary Art there in 1991 and is its director, he is the Artistic Director of the State museum and exhibition Center ROSIZO, and, most notably, he is also a commissioner of the moscow Biennale, whose third incarnation in 2009 was widely acclaimed. It’s a measure of how restrictive artistic activities were in the former Soviet Union that Backstein, who has curated shows in the US and across europe, was unable to venture abroad before 1988. ‘I was 43 when I went abroad for the first time,’ he tells me at his sometime home in south-east London. ‘I went to West Berlin, because the first exhibition I curated was a Russian and German exhibition. It was incredible, I came to West Berlin through the DDR and east Berlin, and it was evening and the train passed the Wall and then the spotlit billboard that I recognised was a cigarette advertisement which read like a statement: it said “test the West”.’ Backstein’s first exhibition in the USA was in 1990, at the ICA Boston, whose curator, David Ross, advised him to set up a similar institution in moscow. When he returned home, Backstein, together with friends and colleagues, set up the ICA moscow. ‘It was the first formally registered not-forprofit art institution in Russia, because at that time, people didn’t understand … the difference between profit and not-for-profit galleries and museums – you can imagine the extent to which Russia had been isolated from the international art world.’ Unlike most of his friends among the Jewish intelligentsia, like the artists Komar & melamid, Backstein had stayed in the Soviet Union rather
than emigrate to the west through Israel. But he stayed in contact with his émigré friends and this helped his assimilation into the global art world. “When I came for the first time to new York it was very easy for me to understand how things worked. I had so many friends in new York and in the 90s I could come to nY three or four times a year, and I made five exhibitions in America, four in new York – at PS1, for instance.’ he laughs at how, suddenly, his activities had become so widespread. ‘Some of the exhibitions travelled around America. And I am very proud that in 1991 I had an exhibition in honolulu – I was the first [curator] from the Soviet Union in honolulu.’ Initially, the change in moscow’s contemporary art scene was gradual. ‘Slowly it became very popular,’ he says, ‘because the galleries in the 90s could survive not by selling contemporary art, but by selling antiques, and late 19th-century and early 20th-century art. But from around 2003 they could survive by selling just contemporary art.’ Backstein has been a central part of the dramatic new developments in 2008, when the high-profile Garage Center for Contemporary Culture opened. the Garage was founded by Daria Zhukova (usually known as Dasha), partner of the oil billionaire Roman Abramovich, but it was Backstein who first suggested the idea of using the building as an art space. ‘I was the curator for the Kabakovs’ show and the Kabakovs didn’t like any venues I showed to him,’ Backstein recalls. ‘Finally I found the Garage, just the space, and it belonged to the synagogue, the Jewish community – it had been given to them with the very clear purpose to set up the Jewish museum of tolerance, but it was a very expensive project. I am Jewish, and I found it through my Jewish connections, and Ilya liked it. I introduced the idea to the Jewish community and they said it’s a good idea. Roman is the 130
BRIC_Nonna_126-131.indd 130
18/03/10 12:01
calvert 22 exhibitions unfortunately, in contemporary art there is a very big gap. In Russia we don’t really have a good education for curators. Our target is to create a very serious educational programme and with the help of Joseph Backstein, we’d like to do some exchanges with artists and curators.’ While Russia’s recent advances in terms of the presence of contemporary art are well documented, materkova believes there is still a long way to go before it can compare with western countries. ‘Recently there have been a lot of movements, but unfortunately mostly in moscow. I am from St Petersburg and it’s very behind. Of course, St Petersburg has always been famous for its art, but always art from the past. But it has started there as well, and around the country, and a lot of people have started to think about helping young artists.’ Despite her caution about appearing too satisfied with Calvert 22’s progress, materkova is clearly relishing the experience of working with artists after many years in global finance. ‘to do something exciting, interesting and useful for other people, to help Russian artists to come here, and British artists to go to Russia and see what is going on, is amazing,’ she says. And she is now gaining interest from potential supporters who will allow her even greater freedom to
develop Calvert 22. ‘It has been developed mostly through my support, but I have now started some fundraising activities and I can see that we can find some help and people really want to be involved,’ she explains. ‘It’s quite a modest activity, but slowly and surely we can go forward. I am really convinced and I can see this foundation from a long term perspective.’ Calvert 22’s future plans see the gallery becoming increasingly embedded in the UK’s contemporary art scene and connecting with other institutions – the gallery will link up with Artes mundi for a solo show of one of the Welsh visual arts prize’s nominees, Russian artist Olga Chernysheva, this summer. Later in the year it will organise a special presentation in connection with the New Contemporaries 2010 exhibition. I ask materkova how much time she can devote to Calvert 22 given that she still runs Roslink, her corporate finance firm. And it’s clear which occupies most of her time and energy. ‘I do still have a business, but it’s more of a technical thing,’ she says. ‘Calvert 22 has really occupied by heart and soul, and I am thinking of how it should be and I visualise it much more than my main business, because that’s been going now for many years. here, every day is something new. It is fascinating.’ n
The sTory so far • Past Future Perfect 13 may – 16 June 2009 A five-person show of Russian artists exploring collective and personal histories. • Show Me a Hero 26 June – 2 August 2009 the dystopic vision of six figurative painters in Russia and eastern europe. • Re-Imagining October 2 October – 13 December 2009 mark nash and Isaac Julien’s complex show informed by three film-makers: Jarman, eisenstein and Abderrahmane Sissako. • Photo I, Photo You 28 January – 28 march 2010 ten artists using photography and film to challenge ideas about eastern europe. coming up • Distance and Sensibility 15 April – 13 June 2010 the work of five artists informed by enormous changes in 20th-century europe • Olga Chernysheva 1 July – 29 August 2010 Solo show for the moscow-based nominee for the Artes mundi Prize
Photo Valerie Oleynik
• Slavs and Tatars 15 September – 31 October 2010 Focus on the collective whose multi-disciplinary work focuses on eurasia
second Biennales were curated by hans Ulrich Obrist, Daniel Birnbaum, nicolas Bourriaud, Rosa martinez and others,’ he exclaims. ‘And then for the third I invited Jean-hubert martin, and he made a wonderful show – and because of the Garage and the help of Dasha and Roman from one side, we could set up a really proper team, and unlike Britain or other european countries, we have very few people who are able to do such a project.’ I ask if the recession might affect his ability to present similarly costly biennales in the future. ‘We feel this recession quite clearly, it is generally becoming more difficult to get money from the ministry of Culture, as three-quarters of the budget for the Biennale came from the ministry. It will be much more difficult to get that level of funding for the next biennale. that’s why we should be very flexible in terms of fundraising and thinking about other foundations and institutions.’ Importantly for Backstein, the current focus on the Russian art scene is having an impact on the wider, grassroots community, not just the glamorous new elite. ‘At the Kabakov opening, three or four hundred people from the international art world came – nicholas Serota and many other museum directors, and it was a big thing. It was important for the young artists – they feel now that they live in a city where that kind of event, with international recognition and reputation, can happen.’ BEN LUKE
head of the moscow Jewish community. he became involved, and Dasha too. And then she made a very clever decision to set up the Center for Contemporary Culture. Roman very generously enabled the renovation. he spent a huge amount of money for the renovation and for the public presentation, and then a huge amount of money for the Kabakovs show.’ the three Biennales for which Backstein has been a commissioner have featured an extraordinary roll call of the world’s top curators. ‘It was my strategy to invite the most professional curators I know – the first and 131
BRIC_Nonna_126-131.indd 131
18/03/10 12:01
Uli Sigg and Ai Weiwei photographed at the Hotel Adlon Kempinski, Berlin, 13 March 2010 000
BRIC_AIWEI_132-137.indd 132
20/03/10 10:17
ai weiwei & uli sigg point and shoot interview karen wright | photographs oliver mark
000
BRIC_AIWEI_132-137.indd 133
20/03/10 10:17
The arTisT ai WeiWei lives and works in Beijing. Despite a burgeoning international career as an artist, he has remained a stalwart chronicler of social issues within China. a living conscience and conduit to the outside world through the internet, his blog is fearless and frequently taken out of service. in 2009, Weiwei was severely beaten up by Chinese police, an incident which he chronicled online through Twitter. Months later, during the installation of his show at the haus der Kunst in Munich he felt unwell and was operated on for an intracranial bleed. When i meet him in Berlin with Uli sigg, a swiss collector of Chinese art, he seems none the worse for wear, the only discernible symptom being an occasional slight difficulty retrieving a specific word. he is a large and imposing figure, although quietly spoken. Throughout our conversation he continually photographs Uli. at one point i look over and he appears to be sleeping. i point this out to Uli who says to let him rest, as he is tired. a big smile spreads over Weiwei’s face making him appear even more like a benign Confucius-like figure.
Karen Wright I would like to start at the beginning if I may, so can you tell me what it was like growing up in China? ai WeiWei Why I am always a little bit hesitant is because whatever I say, while you hear it you may imagine something else. My experience is not so much different from anyone else’s, even though I come from a very special family: poets [his father was Ai Qing], but there was no difference in the experience of the whole thing. Poor, of course; in a communist nation what you never see is poverty because everybody is lacking material things, so it’s not about poor or rich, because there are no rich people there. We did farm work, even in school, and the rest of the time we had to memorise Chairman Mao’s slogans. My father was an enemy of the state, or the people, or the Party, so we were living in quite a difficult situation. But still, my father may understand it, but I don’t really know it because – Uli Sigg – you don’t know anything else. aW Yes. It’s natural. You still can find a lot of happiness in there. KW Did you know anything while you were there about western art? Would you have been able to see anything? aW In China I got several catalogues from a translator: PostImpressionists, Degas, Monet, and Van Gogh, and we all saw this as a treasure because the book was printed in France; it was a very small catalogue but so beautiful. KW Those lovely ‘tipped in’ pictures. aW Then also I got another book about Jasper Johns. Nobody liked it. ‘What is this yellow, blue on the wall, red?’ What is this? It’s not a painting.’ So I just threw it away, but after I went to New York [1981], the first artist I had chance to really read about was Jasper Johns, and I started to respect what he did. Through that I understood that he was strongly influenced by Duchamp. So Andy Warhol, Duchamp, I started to read about their ideas and concepts. KW Tell me how Duchamp affected you, because that obviously was such a key thing. aW Yes, Duchamp affected me in a few ways: one is his attitude to culture production is more cynical in a literary way; there is more about thinking rather than just producing products. He doesn’t like the sentence in
French, ‘As stupid as an artist.’ He thinks art should be a mental activity. Those things I really liked because I like art because of that part, the mental activities. Also it gave me an excuse not to have to produce so much painting and sculpture, which is really difficult, because you are a poor student and you are living in a very small room, and every time you move you have to throw away all the paintings, because there is no way you can move the paintings around. You don’t want to get into a new apartment and have half the apartment taken by the paintings. KW Or you burn them like John Baldessari did. aW It’s hard to burn them, even in a city. US A fire in New York! KW Did you try to do it? aW No. I remember after a group show I took down my painting and I threw it in the garbage truck, otherwise you have to carry this big canvas on the street. It’s so embarrassing. I like the critical attitude towards culture like in Dada and the Surrealists, especially Dada. I think that is more interesting for me. KW Who did you hang out with in that period, what other artists? Jasper Johns? aW No. I met him once. He was running out from a Soho gallery, laughing. I was so surprised because in all his photos he is so serious, but he was laughing. I thought, ‘This is Jasper Johns?’ No. No artists would hang out with a Chinese guy. I hung out more with Allen Ginsberg, the poet. He was in the neighbourhood and he would read his poetry to me. KW So you decided to go back to China in 1993, when your father became ill. It was a decision that must have been very hard to take. aW No. I had nothing to do. For years I didn’t do anything related to art, but of course I went to galleries and museums and still did a lot of mental thinking but I did not really touch anything. So my life was more like wasted. I was very young, didn’t really want to go back to my country, never finished my schooling and, also, for a long period of time I did not have the legal status to stay in the United States. So I became an illegal alien. I did all kinds of things: I spent time in casinos, I was doing photography on the street, doing framing work, working in newspaper printing shops, all kinds of work just to get the next month’s rent paid. It was really a very liberating life; you have no attachments. It was really nice. But you don’t even have a reason to wake up in the morning. Every morning you would ask yourself, ‘What am I going to do today?’ So it came to the moment my father was ill. Even though I had decided never to go back to China, this was the last excuse if I ever wanted to go back. So I packed everything. All my friends said, ‘You are the last person to go back to China. Look at your lifestyle here.’ I just went back. KW What was it like going back to China after twelve years? aW It was still a very depressing society, I think, but I met Uli at the very beginning. I had nothing to do, basically; I went to antique markets. KW You still couldn’t work. aW No. I did something that I later called work but at that time I was not sincerely devoting myself. KW Let’s bring Uli in here. Tell me what you were doing in China. US First I went there at the end of the seventies to establish the first joint venture company between China and the western world. I spent a long time in building that company, turning it into a model for foreign investment in China and also trying to find Chinese contemporary art. KW At one point you asked Chinese artists to define their Chineseness and some were offended. Can I ask you Weiwei how you define Chineseness? aW It’s very hard for me to say; it’s very logical for Uli to ask that question. For me it’s like, ‘How do we describe gravity?’ It’s there because it has showed it’s there but it’s hard to describe it.
ai Weiwei and Fake Studio, Working Progress (Fountain of Light), 2007 designed for tate Liverpool
CREDITS: © the artists. Courtesy Tate Liverpool .
‘i am listening to you!’ he says. Karen Wright
134
BRIC_AIWEI_132-137.indd 134
20/03/10 10:17
«For me it’s like how do we describe gravity? it’s there because it has showed it’s there but it’s hard to describe it» ai weiwei on ‘chineseness’
000
BRIC_AIWEI_132-137.indd 135
20/03/10 10:18
«it’s a desire, oFten unFulFilled. but it’s a state oF desiring to be punctual, to be precise, to be reliable, keep your word, keep the contract» uli sigg on ‘swissness’
KW Do you still feel Swiss, Uli? You live in Switzerland but you do so much travelling. US There is definitely something like Swissness. [Laughter] KW I think there is and I think there is something in the art – I find it very interesting. US So therefore there is definitely Chineseness. aW Chineseness can be described as whatever is not in Switzerland. US [Laughs] KW Of course. I just find it interesting that artists find it offensive to be asked. To me, we live in a very global world but we still are informed by… US Yes, but I think it has to do with some kind of almost – in some instances, not all – an inferiority complex, that the artist always fears, ‘I am only loved or my work is only liked because I am Chinese.’ It’s not because it’s a good work but because it is a Chinese work coming from China. There is always that latent fear there, so that’s why maybe the artists that are most unsure of themselves hate the question the most. KW Yes. US I don’t know if you would agree with that. KW What is Swissness, anyway, Uli? How would you define Swissness? US I think Swissness is like a spirit or a constraint to be precise, to be reliable; it’s a desire, often unfulfilled. But it’s a state of desiring to be punctual, to be precise, to be reliable, keep your word, keep the contract. Of course this may lead to very inefficient behaviour very often. We might design some object to the hundredth of a millimetre when this is just a ridiculous cost and doesn’t lead anywhere. That’s a very broad type of description of what Swissness may be. KW What intrigued you about Chinese Art? You were raised in Switzerland, so Chinese art must have been very alien to your eyes in some ways, or did you instantly feel a kind of empathy for it? US No, not really. I didn’t find it very interesting at that time. We are talking about the end of the seventies, eighties. I was looking at it with a western eye, used to the forefront of contemporary art, and if you had that perspective you couldn’t find much of interest. It took some years until they found their own language. Then later I was working as Ambassador, that’s when the two of us met. KW That was at some ambassadorial party? US Not really; a common friend introduced us and I went to his living quarters there. He was living in this old Beijing courtyard house. The first time we met we got involved in an in-depth discussion. KW What year was this? US Was it ’95, Weiwei? aW Yes. KW And your discussion was about art? US About art, yes, because he had some objects in there that took my interest, so we talked about art and we talked about antiques because he was more interested in antiques at the time, things like that. KW One of my favourite pieces of yours is Fairytale – 1001 Chairs. I loved the chairs and I loved the way they were placed around, and being able to move them to sit in them. I remember thinking, ‘I feel a little bit closer to China.’ Was that one of your links to this object thing with the antiques? How did you turn objects into art? Is that a question that makes sense? US It makes sense for him. aW I like antiques and they teach me about history and about how, in the past, humans appreciated or related to certain objects and how those shapes and the forms and the texture come out and the moral assets behind those judgements; those are fascinating. Then I like to take those old habits, language, take the culture as a readymade, to serve today’s
purpose. To put it in an even more extreme condition and to give a new interpretation or a new taste is an interesting act to me. KW So what was the first piece in which you integrated antiques into your work? aW It was unconscious, really. I had these earlier Han dynasty urns, which were a very beautiful shape – the handle and the mouth, very primitive, simple. Actually that was the only one I ever came across. Later I never had another one like that. So I looked at it and thought something was lacking. I had an ashtray with chips; in Atlantic City if you won or lost some money they would give you something like that. It had a Coca-Cola sign on it so I just put the words on the urn one morning. I didn’t think it was art. So I just made the drawing and put some watercolours on it. Then Uli came to pick it up and it has now become an iconic gesture in my work. KW Uli, coming back to you, did you instantly respond to it? In a way you could ascribe to it western ideas; you could look at it as Pop art in some ways, even though it is very different. US I took an instant liking; I liked its ambiguity. Looking at it from a western point of view, for us such an urn is an extremely rare artefact representing a huge sum of money, if we talk about value, because it is so scarce, you know. Only in a museum would it ever be possible to see this. For a Chinese person it is hard to imagine because it is everywhere, it is so much more common as an object. To see it destroyed or changed or altered or improved by the Coca-Cola logo was just completely striking and I thought, ‘This is such a bold person’. And I was actually right. But there were many other dimensions like the Pop things. There was the trademark; what Coca-Cola represented in China at the time is very different from what an American might think Coca-Cola is. KW Talk to me about that a little bit. I think it is very interesting, that different dynamic. aW At weddings, people would place a bottle of Coca-Cola as a symbol of a new life. [Laughs] US I remember in the early eighties when Coca-Cola was introduced and you had to pay to buy it in foreign currency; it was impossible to buy it with the domestic currency because it was imported. The next thing was Coca-Cola made a gift to China: a whole bottling factory. aW This is the first time I have heard about this. US So I always looked at Coca-Cola throughout my time in China. They had their own way and they called it innovative to really sneak into the Chinese consumer. I found all this in this work; it represented all this to me. I was right – he was a bold person to destroy that urn. KW Just going back quickly, do you think the logo is beautiful? aW If it’s wrongly placed it can always bring fresh consciousness and even something people don’t even notice can be shocking. US The urn really sinks into your consciousness. The whole thing about advertising is to influence your subconscious, right, but presented to you in such a way it really hits you in your consciousness, so it also for me brought the whole advertising issue into a surreal appearance. When I saw it, I had a hundred thoughts in my perturbed mind. aW About the same time I did throw this Han dynasty urn. KW Tell me about that. aW It’s really a very simple, I always say low-taste, gesture. It’s not carefully done work. I had this camera. I tried to show my brother; it can take four frames or six frames in a second. KW So did your brother take the photos for the documentation? aW Yes but with this mechanical camera, doing such a fast action, you really cannot comprehend it unless you test it. I said, ‘Let’s drop this. You just take this photo.’ My brother got very excited. He is very close to me. He knows from when we were very young that I do these kinds of stupid things 136
BRIC_AIWEI_132-137.indd 136
20/03/10 10:18
describe; you make it into solid objects. KW That’s interesting. One of the pieces I really loved was the piece you did for Liverpool, the Tatlin piece, Fountain of Light. aW Tatlin’s Monument to the Third International. KW Can you tell me how that came about or where the idea came from? aW We are in a position that is so deconstructed: China in the twentieth century taking Marxism with violent revolution and this two-thousand-year long history of Confucian culture. As a person I’m a product of the Cultural Revolution, really, and learnt contemporary art in New York and came back to China with this materialised, capitalised society. To leave a position and come out with the kind of artworks that reflect the conflicts and chaotic conditions wouldn’t take too much time, but still you have to find a solid metaphor. And since it has to relate to your so-called taste, your interests, it can come out very naturally. But still you have to prove it; you have to make it as material. It has to be written up and printed in very good print and then people say, ‘Hey! This is not a bad idea after all.’ KW Then the fabrication. aW Yes. It’s so complicated. I happen to be quite handy and skilful; also I practiced architecture, so I know how to deal with those material structures. KW Again, it comes back to having the material to be able to do it, to be able to find the people who can make these kinds of things. There is this workforce in China. aW It is true. There is a workforce but also you have to deal with this workforce, you have to convince them, you have to make them willing to make the effort and listen to you each time to make improvements. Those are skills not everybody has. US That’s very important to point out. aW A good artist… if you lack one step, you cannot climb this ladder; if one of them is not there you cannot, it will stop. I have had those kinds of skills since I was a child. US It is true the resources of labour and skills are boundless in China, but to organise them is very difficult in China, very difficult. aW For me it is easy because I have this natural talent, which is I can talk to any kind of people and convince them to work. That is really my hidden weapon. KW I would love to talk to you more but I know that you are busy. You are not going to tell me what you are putting in the Tate Turbine Hall, are you? aW Not a lot. They will kick me out! KW It will be a minimal installation? aW Maximal. n
and he always gets excited. When I do it I always want somebody to get excited. So he held it, and I said, ‘Start to take.’ I dropped the urn. I realised the click is not right; the urn hits the ground before the camera sound. So I said, ‘This is wrong’. He said, ‘Are you sure?’ He didn’t catch it. He was so sad. ‘Let’s do another one.’ We had just two of them. KW You did another one? aW Yes. but I never thought that photo was a piece of art, even. I am an artist, anyway, so I can decide later if it is art or the moment is art. Years later I had to publish a book and I needed to put some of my works in there, so I thought that photo could be put in because the book is really about attitude, about documents. KW So Weiwei did Uli have an influence on you? aW I met this man who liked art so much; he was probably the only ambassador in China in the past and in the future who hung real quality pieces of art in the embassy, both western and Chinese. There was no possibility to meet somebody like that. I came back from New York and I did not expect to see contemporary art being chosen by this man and he showed a great interest in works – not necessarily in me; I always joke he didn’t really discover me. He hesitated. So our relationship was casual; we were not in love at first sight or something, it just gradually built up. [Laughs] US You want to ask him what you asked before: did I have you produce more works and did I take something away from you? Did that have an impact, or not, really? aW Not at that moment because I didn’t think the art of China could be part of history or that I could be one of the people in the mainstream. I never really imagined things like that. It was very casual. I was very laid back. I played poker all the time. Even today I am on the internet more than anything. KW I am trying to tease you into saying when you started making more work and when you started feeling empowered as an artist. aW I started making work really because of the exhibition Uli introduced me to. Then he introduced me to… US … actually Harald Szeemann, first. aW Oh yes. Harald Szeemann. Uli wanted Chinese art to be more well introduced on a world level so he was the greatest salesman about culture. It’s amazing. We talked about art all the time but not really my art, art in general. He always invited top curators from western institutions to China to introduce them to what’s happening. The curator Harald Szeemann was a very sensitive, intelligent, unique personality, very bold and very generous. He surprised me, I think under Uli’s – I wouldn’t say pressure – but influence. I don’t even know how to say that because this is top secret, maybe. Uli just said, ‘You’re in the boat’ or something – I still don’t understand; he put me in the Venice Biennale. But I had never had a show, you know. US I have to add that Harald was extremely impressed by two things: by the person, Ai Weiwei, and by his art. He was very impressed by both and would also always seek his advice on things Chinese. aW Also Uli introduced me to Bernhard. US From the Kunsthalle Bern; Bernhard Fibicher. aW It is a really important institution and I think he is a very good curator. Fibicher trusted me so much. It was not easy because I had never had a show. They gave me a one-person show and it is the landmark of my career. I worked very hard on that project and made ten to twelve pieces and I enjoyed being an artist. It was good presentation, the right audience, small, not very big, and, of course, then, not a piece sold, which also I liked. [Laughs] I liked that. It gave me something to be proud of. US These were entirely new works he showed there, like these maps of China in various forms. aW Now everybody wants to have a piece. I felt very fascinated so I did this. But I have no feelings about the map of China, you know. I had to use language already accepted by people to look at it the other way. I like the wood from those destroyed buildings, the temples, which is very precious wood. So that gave that object a very different taste besides the texture and the shape and the culture and history in there. KW It carries something with it, doesn’t it? aW It carries most my ignorance of it, actually; it is not intelligence. It’s really about something behind intelligence or something you cannot really
Ai Weiwei will undertake the eleventh commission in the Unilever Series for the turbine hall at tate Modern, 12 October 2010 – 25 april 2011
137
BRIC_AIWEI_132-137.indd 137
20/03/10 10:18
object lesson: lot 20 The work of ATul DoDiyA concerns itself with the interactions between cultures, traditions and art forms. Fallen Leaves – A Stroll #2 is a classic example of how these interrelations come together in a single artwork. Created from seemingly unrelated pieces – portraits of historical figures, a walking cane and a geometric abstract design, the resulting work is like a rebus that resists a coherent narrative. Dodiya forces the viewer to become an active participant in the artwork by trying to make sense of the relations between the work’s discrete parts. This technique, and the title’s allusion to walking, brings to mind the literary stream of consciousness championed by Modernist writers like Virginia woolf and James Joyce. Different mnemonic fragments, past and present, both monumental and insignificant can be the passing topics of thought or conversation overheard on a stroll. Memories become like leaves blowing past – names, stories, sites, sounds, smells and fleeting wants are at one moment at the forefront of our consciousness but, as with a sudden gust of wind or a distraction, our mind is taken elsewhere. Dodiya is also concerned with the aspirations of the middle class and the impact of globalization upon homeland traditions. The political figures in the paintings were concerned, to various degrees, with the rights of the working class and their ambitions for a better life. The combination of oil paint on leaves extends this dialogue by presenting a style of art associated with the upper class, such as oil painted portraits, on readily available material like dead leaves. The interconnections between east and west, between wealth and poverty, alert the viewer to multiple art historical allusions. The combination of different materials and icons makes reference to the Combines of the late American painter robert rauschenberg. The nonsequiturs and puzzles that arise from the placement of the works also allude to the works of conceptual artist John Baldessari. These references reflect the extent to which globalization has been absorbed by and has changed local traditions. Dodiya asks the viewer to the think about how all that makes up the modern world is connected, and it is these connections, Dodiya argues, that are by turns obvious and hidden. it is up to us, the viewer, on a stroll, to decipher them. n Atul Dodiya, b. 1959, Fallen Leaves – A Stroll #2, 2006
Atul Dodiya’s 2010 painting Portrait of Niko Pirosmani (1862–1918) is dedicated to his friend, the painter Bhupen Khakhar who died in 2003, whom Dodiya believed was influenced by the Georgian primitivist Pirosmani. A work of mourning, it is draped by a pair of dyed pyjamas such as Khakhar used to wear while painting.
Joseph Beuys’s Eurasia Siberian Symphony (1963) brings together key elements that recur throughout his work, such as fat, felt and heat. Strongly evocative of Western and Eastern fusion, particularly poignant in a divided Cold War Germany, here the hare symbolises the possibility of crossing long distances.
In his Combines, Robert Rauschenberg incorporates found objects – such as a pillow and an eagle in his Canyon (1959) – onto a painted canvas, creating a hybrid of sculpture and painting, marking what the art historian Leo Steinberg heralded as the ‘shift from nature to culture’ in modern art.
One of Virginia Woolf’s most celebrated novels, Mrs Dalloway (1925) centres on a single day in the life of Clarissa Dalloway. Following Mrs Dalloway’s meanderings through a post-First World War London as she organises a party, the novel is a masterpiece of stream of consciousness.
Beuys: courtesy SCAlA, © DACS 2010. woolf: cover design by Vanessa Bell, courtesy Chatto & windus Press. rauschenberg: © estate of robert rauschenberg, DACS, london/VAGA, New york 2010. Dodiya: © Atul Dodiya 2010, courtesy the artist
words george o’dell
138
BRIC_INDIA_Objectlesson_138-139.indd 138
18/03/10 14:51
BRIC_INDIA_Objectlesson_138-139.indd 139
18/03/10 11:46
berlin
To mark her winning of Deutsche Bank’s 2010 Artist of the Year award, the New York-based artist Wangechi Mutu, who was born in Kenya, will have a survey of her work at the Deutsche Guggenheim (30 April –13 June 2010). Mutu’s work engages with issues such as body fascism, cyborg identities and post-colonial politics through an assemblage of unlikely materials such as dripping wine bottles, fur and fashion magazine cut-outs. Her most celebrated works are collages such as Untitled 2009 (above), which displays an opulent style offset by a disquieting transfiguration of the female body.
Mutu: © Wangechi Mutu and Susanne Vielmetter Los Angeles Projects, courtesy Deutsche Guggenheim
news
140
BRIC_News_140-141.indd 140
18/03/10 11:58
news
new york
Throughout his career, Leon Golub, who died in 2004, confronted contentious issues like terrorism, the Vietnam War and neo-colonialism through a distinctive figurative style that was heroic and muscular, while also uncompromising in its political convictions. The Drawing Center’s Live & Die Like a Lion? (23 April – 23 July 2010) is the first museum show to concentrate on Golub’s late drawings. Unable to work on a monumental scale towards the end of his life, Golub turned to creating intensely colourful oil paintings on vellum that combined his life-long passion for politics with meditations on mysticism and death.
Golub: © Estate of Leon Golub/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY. Cartier-Bresson: © Henri Cartier-Bresson / Magnum Photos, courtesy Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson. Lissitzky : © El Lissitzky, by SIAE 2010. Maiolino: Among Many 2005, photo Isabella Matheus, courtesy the artist
london
Continuous at the Camden Arts Centre (1 April – 30 May 2010) celebrates the creativity of Anna Maria Maiolino, one of the most eclectic of Brazil’s living artists. During a career spanning more than five decades, Maiolino has worked with diverse media – photography, film, sculpture and performance included – while collaborating with leading Brazilian artists, such as Lygia Clark and Hélio Oiticica, to shatter the boundaries between art and everyday life. The exhibition includes a retrospective of the artist’s films and a new installation of clay pots that will gradually disintegrate throughout the duration of the show, symbolising cycles of destruction and regeneration.
venice
new york
Marking the institution’s 30th anniversary, Utopia Matters at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection (1 May – 25 July 2010) engages with the historical affinities between artist collectives and utopian avant-gardes. Through case studies as diverse as the PreRaphaelites and the Bauhaus, curator Vivien Greene traces how artists employ abstraction and design to create alternative worlds, such as in El Lissitzky’s Untitled, pictured above, whose principles of rationality and harmony rejected the chaos of 20th-century modernisation.
Although he is considered the master of modern photography, Henri Cartier-Bresson’s Paris street scenes have eclipsed a career that was not only intensely prolific, but also international in its breadth. Henri Cartier-Bresson: The Modern Century at MoMA (11 April – 28 June 2010) showcases his lesser-known photographic reportages, such as China during the revolution, pictured here, the dawning of India’s independence, and the sudden affluence of post-1945 America.
141
BRIC_News_140-141.indd 141
18/03/10 11:58
BRIC_Evening_142-217.indd 142
19/03/10 11:05
BRIC_Evening_142-217.indd 143
19/03/10 11:05
GUIDE FOR PROSPECTIVE BUYERS BUYInG aT aUCTIOn
Symbol Key
The following pages are designed to offer you information on how to buy at auction at
The following key explains the symbols you may see inside this catalogue.
Phillips de Pury & Company. Our staff will be happy to assist you. O Guaranteed Property COnDITIOnS OF SalE
The seller of lots with this symbol has been guaranteed a minimum price. The guarantee
The Conditions of Sale and Authorship Warranty which appear later in this catalogue
may be provided by Phillips de Pury & Company, by a third party or jointly by us and a
govern the auction. Bidders are strongly encouraged to read them as they outline the legal
third party. Phillips de Pury & Company and third parties providing or participating in a
relationship between Phillips de Pury & Company, the seller and the buyer and describe
guarantee may benefit financially if a guaranteed lot is sold successfully and may incur
the terms upon which property is bought at auction. Please be advised that Phillips de
a loss if the sale is not successful. A third party guarantor may also bid for the guaranteed
Pury & Company generally acts as agent for the seller.
lot and may be allowed to net the financial remuneration against the final purchase price if such party is the successful bidder.
BUYER’S PREmIUm Phillips de Pury & Company charges the successful bidder a commission, or buyer’s
∆ Property in which Phillips de Pury & Company has an Ownership Interest
premium, on the hammer price of each lot sold. The buyer’s premium is payable by the
Lots with this symbol indicate that Phillips de Pury & Company owns the lot in whole or in
buyer as part of the total purchase price at the following rates: 25% of the hammer price up
part or has an economic interest in the lot equivalent to an ownership interest.
to and including £25,000, 20% of the portion of the hammer price above £25,000 up to and
•
including £500,000, and 12% of the portion of the hammer price above £500,000.
no Reserve
•
Unless indicated by a , all lots in this catalogue are offered subject to a reserve. VaT
A reserve is the confidential value established between Phillips de Pury & Company and
Value added tax (VAT) may be payable on the hammer price and/or the buyer’s premium.
the seller and below which a lot may not be sold. The reserve for each lot is generally set at
The buyer’s premium may attract a charge in lieu of VAT. Please read carefully the ‘VAT
a percentage of the low estimate and will not exceed the low pre-sale estimate.
AND OTHER TAX INFORMATION FOR BUYERS’ section in this catalogue.
♠ Property Subject to the artist’s Resale Right Lots marked with ♠ are subject to the Artist’s Resale Right calculated as a percentage of 1 PRIOR TO aUCTIOn
the hammer price and payable as part of the purchase price as follows:
Catalogue Subscriptions If you would like to purchase a catalogue for this auction or any other Phillips de Pury &
Portion of the Hammer Price (in EUR)
Company sale, please contact us at +44 20 7318 4010 or +1 212 940 1240.
From 0 to 50,000
4%
From 50,000.01 to 200,000
3%
Royalty Rate
Pre-Sale Estimates
From 200,000.01 to 350,000
1%
Pre-sale estimates are intended as a guide for prospective buyers. Any bid within the high
From 350,000.01 to 500,000
0.5%
and low estimate range should, in our opinion, offer a chance of success. However, many
Exceeding 500,000
0.25%
lots achieve prices below or above the pre-sale estimates. Where ‘Estimate on Request’ appears, please contact the specialist department for further information. It is advisable
The Artist’s Resale Right applies where the hammer price is EUR 1,000 or more, subject to
to contact us closer to the time of the auction as estimates can be subject to revision.
a maximum royalty per lot of EUR 12,500. Calculation of the Artist’s Resale Right will be
Pre-sale estimates do not include the buyer’s premium or VAT.
based on the pounds sterling/euro reference exchange rate quoted on the date of the sale by the European Central Bank.
Pre-Sale Estimates in US Dollars and Euros Although the sale is conducted in pounds sterling, the pre-sale estimates in the auction
†, §, ‡, or Ω Property Subject to VaT
catalogues may also be printed in US dollars and/or euros. Since the exchange rate is
Please refer to the section entitled ‘VAT AND OTHER TAX INFORMATION FOR BUYERS’
that at the time of catalogue production and not at the date of auction, you should treat
in this catalogue for additional information.
estimates in US dollars or euros as a guide only. Catalogue Entries Phillips de Pury & Company may print in the catalogue entry the history of ownership of a work of art, as well as the exhibition history of the property and references to the work in art publications. While we are careful in the cataloguing process, provenance, exhibition and literature references may not be exhaustive and in some cases we may intentionally refrain from disclosing the identity of previous owners. Please note that all dimensions of the property set forth in the catalogue entry are approximate. Condition of lots Our catalogues include references to condition only in the descriptions of multiple works (e.g., prints). Such references, though, do not amount to a full description of condition. The absence of reference to the condition of a lot in the catalogue entry does not imply that the lot is free from faults or imperfections. Solely as a convenience to clients, Phillips de Pury & Company may provide condition reports. In preparing such reports, our specialists assess the condition in a manner appropriate to the estimated value of the property and the nature of the auction in which it is included. While condition reports are prepared honestly and carefully, our staff are not professional restorers or trained conservators. We therefore encourage all prospective buyers to inspect the property at the pre-sale exhibitions and recommend, particularly in the case of any lot of significant value, that you retain your own restorer or professional advisor to report to you on the property’s condition prior to bidding. Any prospective buyer of photographs or prints should always request a condition report because all such property is sold unframed, unless otherwise indicated in the condition report. If a lot is sold framed, Phillips de Pury & Company accepts no liability for the condition of the frame. If we sell any lot unframed, we will be pleased to refer the purchaser to a professional framer. Pre-auction Viewing Pre-auction viewings are open to the public and free of charge. Our specialists are available to give advice and condition reports at viewings or by appointment. Electrical and mechanical lots All lots with electrical and/or mechanical features are sold on the basis of their decorative value only and should not be assumed to be operative. It is essential that, prior to any intended use, the electrical system is verified and approved by a qualified electrician.
532
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 532
22/03/10 15:09
JEWELS aUCTIOn 21 APRIL 2010 Viewing 16 – 21 April
nEW YORK
Viewing & auction location The Phillips de Pury & Company Boutique at the mark Hotel 992 Madison Avenue 77th Street New York Enquiries +1 212 940 1283 Catalogues +1 212 940 1240 / +44 20 7318 4039 www.phillipsdepury.com
a magnificent Fancy Yellow Diamond
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 533
Estimate $300,000-350,000
22/03/10 15:09
2 BIDDInG In THE SalE
4 aFTER THE aUCTIOn
Bidding at auction
Payment
Bids may be executed during the auction in person by paddle or by telephone or prior to
Buyers are required to pay for purchases immediately following the auction unless other
the sale in writing by absentee bid. Proof of identity in the form of government-issued
arrangements have been agreed with Phillips de Pury & Company in writing in advance of
identification will be required, as will an original signature. We may also require that
the sale. Payments must be made in pounds sterling either by cash, cheque drawn on a UK
you furnish us with a bank reference.
bank or wire transfer, as noted in Paragraph 6 of the Conditions of Sale. It is our corporate policy not to make or accept single or multiple payments in cash or cash equivalents in excess of the local currency equivalent of US$10,000.
Bidding in Person To bid in person, you will need to register for and collect a paddle before the auction begins. New clients are encouraged to register at least 48 hours in advance of a sale to
Credit Cards
allow sufficient time for us to process your information. All lots sold will be invoiced to
As a courtesy to clients, Phillips de Pury & Company will accept Visa, MasterCard and
the name and address to which the paddle has been registered and invoices cannot be
UK-issued debit cards to pay for invoices of £50,000 or less. A processing fee will apply.
transferred to other names and addresses. Please do not misplace your paddle. In the event you lose it, inform a Phillips de Pury & Company staff member immediately. At the
Collection
end of the auction, please return your paddle to the registration desk.
It is our policy to request proof of identity on collection of a lot. A lot will be released to the buyer or the buyer’s authorized representative when Phillips de Pury & Company has
Bidding by Telephone
received full and cleared payment and we are not owed any other amount by the buyer.
If you cannot attend the auction, you may bid live on the telephone with one of our
After the auction, we will transfer all lots to our fine arts storage facility located at 110–112
multilingual staff members. This service must be arranged at least 24 hours in advance of
Morden Road, Mitcham, Surrey CR4 4XB and will so advise all buyers. Lots will be ready for
the sale and is available for lots whose low pre-sale estimate is at least £500. Telephone
collection on Tuesday 27 April. Please contact the Shipping Department at (tel) +44 20
bids may be recorded. By bidding on the telephone, you consent to the recording of your
7318 4081 or (fax) +44 20 7318 4038 to arrange collection or to seek assistance with any
conversation. We suggest that you leave a maximum bid, excluding the buyer’s premium
shipping requirements. Please note that all buyers have 30 days to collect their purchases,
and VAT, which we can execute on your behalf in the event we are unable to reach you
after which date Phillips de Pury & Company will levy for each uncollected lot an
by telephone.
administrative fee of £25, a storage fee of £3 per day and a pro rated insurance charge of 0.1% of the purchase price per month.
absentee Bids If you are unable to attend the auction and cannot participate by telephone, Phillips de
loss or Damage
Pury & Company will be happy to execute written bids on your behalf. A bidding form can
Buyers are reminded that Phillips de Pury & Company accepts liability for loss or damage
be found at the back of this catalogue. This service is free and confidential. Bids must be
to lots for a maximum of five days following the auction.
placed in the currency of the sale. Our staff will attempt to execute an absentee bid at the lowest possible price taking into account the reserve and other bidders. Always indicate
Transport and Shipping
a maximum bid, excluding the buyer’s premium and VAT. Unlimited bids will not be
As a free service for buyers, Phillips de Pury & Company will wrap purchased lots for hand
accepted. Any absentee bid must be received at least 24 hours in advance of the sale.
carry only. We do not provide packing, handling or shipping services directly. However, we
In the event of identical bids, the earliest bid received will take precedence.
will coordinate with shipping agents instructed by you in order to facilitate the packing, handling and shipping of property purchased at Phillips de Pury & Company. Please refer to Paragraph 7 of the Conditions of Sale for more information.
Employee Bidding Employees of Phillips de Pury & Company and our affiliated companies, including the auctioneer, may bid at the auction by placing absentee bids so long as they do not know
Export and Import licences
the reserve when submitting their absentee bids and otherwise comply with our employee
Before bidding for any property, prospective bidders are advised to make independent
bidding procedures.
enquiries as to whether a licence is required to export the property from the United Kingdom or to import it into another country. It is the buyer’s sole responsibility to comply
Bidding Increments
with all import and export laws and to obtain any necessary licences or permits. The
Bidding generally opens below the low estimate and advances in increments of up to 10%,
denial of any required licence or permit or any delay in obtaining such documentation will
subject to the auctioneer’s discretion. Absentee bids that do not conform to the
not justify the cancellation of the sale or any delay in making full payment for the lot.
increments set below may be lowered to the next bidding increment. Endangered Species UK£50 to UK£1,000
by UK£50s
Items made of or incorporating plant or animal material, such as coral, crocodile, ivory,
UK£1,000 to UK£2,000
by UK£100s
whalebone, rhinoceros horn or tortoiseshell, irrespective of age, percentage or value, may
UK£2,000 to UK£3,000
by UK£200s
require a licence or certificate prior to exportation and additional licences or certificates
UK£3,000 to UK£5,000
by UK£200s, 500, 800 (i.e., UK£4,200, 4,500, 4,800)
upon importation to any country outside the European Union (EU). Please note that the
UK£5,000 to UK£10,000
by UK£500s
ability to obtain an export licence or certificate does not ensure the ability to obtain an
UK£10,000 to UK£20,000
by UK£1,000s
import licence or certificate in another country, and vice versa. We suggest that
UK£20,000 to UK£30,000
by UK£2,000s
prospective bidders check with their own government regarding wildlife import
UK£30,000 to UK£50,000
by UK£2,000s, 5,000, 8,000
requirements prior to placing a bid. It is the buyer’s sole responsibility to obtain any
UK£50,000 to UK£100,000
by UK£5,000s
necessary export or import licences or certificates as well as any other required
UK£100,000 to UK£200,000
by UK£10,000s
documentation. The denial of any required licence or certificate or any delay in obtaining
above UK£200,000
at the auctioneer’s discretion
such documentation will not justify the cancellation of the sale or any delay in making full payment for the lot.
The auctioneer may vary the increments during the course of the auction at his or her own discretion.
3 THE aUCTIOn Conditions of Sale As noted above, the auction is governed by the Conditions of Sale and Authorship Warranty. All prospective bidders should read them carefully. They may be amended by saleroom addendum or auctioneer’s announcement. Interested Parties announcement In situations where a person allowed to bid on a lot has a direct or indirect interest in such lot, such as the beneficiary or executor of an estate selling the lot, a joint owner of the lot or a party providing or participating in a guarantee on the lot, Phillips de Pury & Company will make an announcement in the saleroom that interested parties may bid on the lot. Consecutive and Responsive Bidding The auctioneer may open the bidding on any lot by placing a bid on behalf of the seller. The auctioneer may further bid on behalf of the seller up to the amount of the reserve by placing consecutive bids or bids in response to other bidders.
534
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 534
22/03/10 15:09
PHOTO & COPYRIGHT: ATELIER VAN LIESHOUT
DESIGN aUCTIOn 28 APRIL 2010 4pm Viewing 21 – 28 April
lOnDOn
Phillips de Pury & Company Howick Place London SW1P 1BB Enquiries +44 30 7318 4021 Catalogues +44 20 7318 4039 / +1 212 940 1240 www.phillipsdepury.com
aTElIER Van lIESHOUT Fisherman’s House, 2000 Estimate £35,000-55,000
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 535
22/03/10 15:09
VaT anD OTHER Tax InFORmaTIOn FOR BUYERS The following paragraphs provide general information to buyers on the VAT and certain
Where the buyer carries purchases from the EU personally or uses the services of a third
other potential tax implications of purchasing property at Phillips de Pury & Company.
party, Phillips de Pury & Company will charge the VAT amount due as a deposit and
This information is not intended to be complete. In all cases, the relevant tax legislation
refund it if the lot has been exported within the timelines specified below and either
takes precedence, and the VAT rates in effect on the day of the auction will be the rates
of the following conditions are met:
charged. It should be noted that, for VAT purposes only, Phillips de Pury & Company is not usually treated as agent and most property is sold as if it is the property of Phillips de
• For lots sold under the Auctioneer’s Margin Scheme or the normal VAT rules,
Pury & Company. In the following paragraphs, reference to VAT symbols shall mean those
Phillips de Pury & Company is provided with appropriate documentary proof of
symbols located beside the lot number or the pre-sale estimates in the catalogue (or
export from the EU within three months of the date of sale. Buyers carrying their
amending saleroom addendum).
own property should obtain hand-carry papers from the Shipping Department to facilitate this process.
1 PROPERTY WITH nO VaT SYmBOl Where there is no VAT symbol, Phillips de Pury & Company is able to use the Auctioneer’s
• For lots sold under temporary admission, Phillips de Pury & Company is provided
Margin Scheme, and VAT will not normally be charged on the hammer price.
with a copy of the correct paperwork duly completed and stamped by HM Revenue & Customs which shows the property has been exported from the EU via the UK
Phillips de Pury & Company must bear VAT on the buyer’s premium. Therefore, we will
within 30 days of payment date. It is essential for shippers acting on behalf of
charge an amount in lieu of VAT at 17.5% on the buyer’s premium. This amount will form
buyers to collect copies of original import papers from our Shipping Department.
part of the buyer’s premium on our invoice and will not be separately identified.
HM Revenue & Customs insist that the correct customs procedures are followed and Phillips de Pury & Company will not be able to issue any refunds where the
2 PROPERTY WITH a † SYmBOl
export documents do not exactly comply with governmental regulations. Property
These lots will be sold under the normal UK VAT rules, and VAT will be charged at 17.5%
subject to temporary admission must be transferred to another customs procedure
on both the hammer price and buyer’s premium.
immediately if any restoration or repair work is to be carried out.
Where the buyer is a relevant business person in the EU (non-UK) or is a relevant business
Buyers carrying their own property must obtain hand-carry papers from the Shipping
person in a non-EU country then no VAT will be charged on the buyer’s premium. This is
Department, for which a charge of £20 will be made. The VAT refund will be processed
subject to Phillips de Pury & Company being provided with evidence of the buyer’s VAT
once the appropriate paperwork has been returned to Phillips de Pury & Company. Phillips
registration number in the relevant Member State (non-UK) or the buyer’s business status
de Pury & Company is not able to cancel or refund any VAT charged on sales made to UK
in a non-EU country such as the buyer’s Tax Registration Certificate. Should this evidence
or EU private residents unless the lot is subject to temporary admission and the property
not be provided then VAT will be charged on the buyer’s premium.
is exported from the EU within 30 days of payment date. Any refund of VAT is subject to a minimum of £50 per shipment and a processing charge of £20.
3 PROPERTY WITH a § SYmBOl Lots sold to buyers whose registered address is in the EU will be assumed to be remaining
Buyers intending to export, repair, restore or alter lots under temporary admission should
in the EU. The property will be invoiced as if it had no VAT symbol. However, if an EU buyer
notify the Shipping Department before collection. Failure to do so may result in the import
advises us that the property is to be exported from the EU, Phillips de Pury & Company will
VAT becoming payable immediately and Phillips de Pury & Company being unable to
re-invoice the property under the normal VAT rules.
refund the VAT charged on deposit.
Lots sold to buyers whose address is outside the EU will be assumed to be exported from
6 VaT REFUnDS FROm Hm REVEnUE & CUSTOmS
the EU. The property will be invoiced under the normal VAT rules. Although the hammer
Where VAT charged cannot be cancelled or refunded by Phillips de Pury & Company, it may be
price will be subject to VAT, the VAT will be cancelled or refunded upon export. The
possible to seek repayment from HM Revenue & Customs (‘HMRC’). Repayments in this
buyer’s premium will always bear VAT unless the buyer is a relevant business person in
manner are limited to businesses located outside the UK and may be considered for example
the EU (non-UK) or is a relevant business person in a non-EU country, subject to Phillips
for Import VAT charged on the hammer price for lots sold under temporary admission.
de Pury & Company receiving evidence of the buyer’s VAT registration number in the relevant Member State (non-UK) or the buyer’s business status in a non-EU country such
All claims made by customers located in another member state to the UK will need to be
as the buyer’s Tax Registration Certificate. Should this evidence not be provided VAT will
made under a new mechanism from 1 January 2010. The process prior to 1 January 2010 is
be charged on the buyer’s premium.
no longer in operation.
4 PROPERTY SOlD WITH a ‡ OR Ω SYmBOl
If you are located in an EU member state other than the UK you will now need to apply for a
These lots have been imported from outside the EU to be sold at auction under temporary
refund of UK VAT directly to your local tax authority. This is done via submission of an
admission. Property subject to temporary admission will be offered under the
electronically based claim form which should be accessed through the website of your
Auctioneer’s Margin Scheme and will be subject to import VAT of either 5% or 17.5%,
local tax authority. As a result, your form may include VAT incurred in a number of
marked by ‡ and Ω respectively, on the hammer price and an amount in lieu of VAT at 17.5%
member states. Furthermore, from 1 January 2010 you should only submit one form per
on the buyer’s premium. Anyone who wishes to buy outside the Auctioneer’s Margin
year, rather than submitting forms throughout the year.
Scheme should notify the Client Accounting Department before the sale. Please note that the time limits by which you must make a claim have been extended. Where lots are sold outside the Auctioneer’s Margin Scheme and the buyer is a relevant
When making a claim for VAT incurred in another EU member state any claim will still be
business person in the EU (non-UK) or is a relevant business person in a non-EU country
made on a calendar year basis but must now be made no later than 30 September
then no VAT will be charged on the buyer’s premium. This is subject to Phillips de Pury &
following that calendar year. This effectively extends the time by which claims should be
Company receiving evidence of the buyer’s VAT registration number in the relevant
made by three months (e.g. for VAT incurred in the year 1 January to 31 December 2010 you
Member State (non-UK) or the buyer’s business status in a non-EU country such as the
should make a claim to your local tax authority no later than 30 September 2011). Once you
buyer’s Tax Registration Certificate. Should this evidence not be provided VAT will be
have submitted the electronic form to your local tax authority it is their responsibility to
charged on the buyer’s premium.
ensure that payment is obtained from the relevant member states. This should be completed within four months. If this time limit is not adhered to you may receive interest on the unpaid amounts.
5 ExPORTS FROm THE EUROPEan UnIOn The following types of VAT may be cancelled or refunded by Phillips de Pury & Company
If you are located outside the EU you should apply for a refund of UK VAT directly to
on exports made within three months of the sale date if strict conditions are met:
HMRC (The rules for those located outside of the EU have not changed). Claim forms are • The amount in lieu of VAT charged on the buyer’s premium for property sold
only available from the HMRC website. Go to http://www.hmrc.gov.uk/index.htm, and
under the Auctioneer’s Margin Scheme (i.e., without a VAT symbol);
follow Quick Links then Find a Form. The relevant form is VAT65A. Completed forms should be returned to: HM Revenue & Customs, VAT Overseas Repayment Directive, Foyle
• The VAT on the hammer price for property sold under the normal VAT rules
House, Duncreggan Road, Londonderry, Northern Ireland, BT48 7AE, (tel) +44 2871 305100
(i.e., with a † or a § symbol).
(fax) +44 2871 305101.
The following type of VaT may be cancelled or refunded by Phillips de Pury &
You should submit claims for VAT to HMRC no later than six months from the end of the
Company on exports made within 30 days of payment date if strict conditions are met:
12 month period ending 30 June (e.g. claims for the period 1 July 2009 to 30 June 2010 should be made no later than 31 December 2010).
• The import VAT charged on the hammer price and an amount in lieu of VAT on the buyer’s premium for property sold under temporary admission (i.e., with a ‡ or a
Please note that refunds of VAT will only be made where VAT has been incurred for a business
Ω symbol) under the Auctioneer’s Margin Scheme.
purpose. Any VAT incurred on articles bought for personal use will not be refunded.
In each of the above examples, where the appropriate conditions are satisfied, no VAT
7 SalES anD USE TaxES
will be charged if, at or before the time of invoicing, the buyer instructs Phillips de Pury &
Buyers from outside the UK should note that local sales taxes or use taxes may
Company to export the property from the EU. If such instruction is received after payment,
become payable upon import of lots following purchase. Buyers should consult their
a refund of the VAT amount will be made.
own tax advisors.
536
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 536
22/03/10 15:09
COnDITIOnS OF SalE The Conditions of Sale and Authorship Warranty set forth below govern the relationship
(c) Telephone bidders are required to submit bids on the ‘Telephone Bid Form’, a copy of
between bidders and buyers, on the one hand, and Phillips de Pury & Company and
which is printed in this catalogue or otherwise available from Phillips de Pury & Company.
sellers, on the other hand. All prospective buyers should read these Conditions of Sale
Telephone bidding is available for lots whose low pre-sale estimate is at least £500.
and Authorship Warranty carefully before bidding.
Phillips de Pury & Company reserves the right to require written confirmation of a successful bid from a telephone bidder by fax or otherwise immediately after such bid is
1 InTRODUCTIOn
accepted by the auctioneer. Telephone bids may be recorded and, by bidding on the
Each lot in this catalogue is offered for sale and sold subject to: (a) the Conditions of Sale
telephone, a bidder consents to the recording of the conversation.
and Authorship Warranty; (b) additional notices and terms printed in other places in this catalogue, including the Guide for Prospective Buyers, and (c) supplements to this
(d) When making a bid, whether in person, by absentee bid or on the telephone, a bidder
catalogue or other written material posted by Phillips de Pury & Company in the saleroom,
accepts personal liability to pay the purchase price, as described more fully in Paragraph
in each case as amended by any addendum or announcement by the auctioneer prior to
6 (a) below, plus all other applicable charges unless it has been explicitly agreed in writing
the auction.
with Phillips de Pury & Company before the commencement of the auction that the bidder is acting as agent on behalf of an identified third party acceptable to Phillips de Pury & Company and that we will only look to the principal for such payment.
By bidding at the auction, whether in person, through an agent, by written bid, by telephone bid or other means, bidders and buyers agree to be bound by these Conditions
(e) Arranging absentee and telephone bids is a free service provided by Phillips de Pury &
of Sale, as so changed or supplemented, and Authorship Warranty.
Company to prospective buyers. While we undertake to exercise reasonable care in These Conditions of Sale, as so changed or supplemented, and Authorship Warranty contain
undertaking such activity, we cannot accept liability for failure to execute such bids except
all the terms on which Phillips de Pury & Company and the seller contract with the buyer.
where such failure is caused by our wilful misconduct.
2 PHIllIPS de PURY & COmPanY aS aGEnT
(f) Employees of Phillips de Pury & Company and our affiliated companies, including the
Phillips de Pury & Company acts as an agent for the seller, unless otherwise indicated in
auctioneer, may bid at the auction by placing absentee bids so long as they do not know
this catalogue or at the time of auction. On occasion, Phillips de Pury & Company may own
the reserve when submitting their absentee bids and otherwise comply with our employee
a lot, in which case we will act in a principal capacity as a consignor, or may have a legal,
bidding procedures.
beneficial or financial interest in a lot as a secured creditor or otherwise. 5 COnDUCT OF THE aUCTIOn
•
3 CaTalOGUE DESCRIPTIOnS anD COnDITIOn OF PROPERTY
(a) Unless otherwise indicated by the symbol
Lots are sold subject to the Authorship Warranty, as described in the catalogue (unless
which is the confidential minimum selling price agreed by Phillips de Pury & Company with
such description is changed or supplemented, as provided in Paragraph 1 above) and in
the seller. The reserve will not exceed the low pre-sale estimate at the time of the auction.
, each lot is offered subject to a reserve,
the condition that they are in at the time of the sale on the following basis. (b) The auctioneer has discretion at any time to refuse any bid, withdraw any lot, re-offer a (a) The knowledge of Phillips de Pury & Company in relation to each lot is partially
lot for sale (including after the fall of the hammer) if he or she believes there may be error
dependent on information provided to us by the seller, and Phillips de Pury & Company is
or dispute and take such other action as he or she deems reasonably appropriate.
not able to and does not carry out exhaustive due diligence on each lot. Prospective buyers acknowledge this fact and accept responsibility for carrying out inspections and
(c) The auctioneer will commence and advance the bidding at levels and in increments he
investigations to satisfy themselves as to the lots in which they may be interested.
or she considers appropriate. In order to protect the reserve on any lot, the auctioneer
Notwithstanding the foregoing, we shall exercise such reasonable care when making
may place one or more bids on behalf of the seller up to the reserve without indicating he
express statements in catalogue descriptions or condition reports as is consistent with
or she is doing so, either by placing consecutive bids or bids in response to other bidders.
our role as auctioneer of lots in this sale and in light of (i) the information provided to us by the seller, (ii) scholarship and technical knowledge and (iii) the generally accepted
(d) The sale will be conducted in pounds sterling and payment is due in pounds sterling.
opinions of relevant experts, in each case at the time any such express statement is made.
For the benefit of international clients, pre-sale estimates in the auction catalogue may be shown in US dollars and/or euros and, if so, will reflect approximate exchange rates.
(b) Each lot offered for sale at Phillips de Pury & Company is available for inspection by
Accordingly, estimates in US dollars or euros should be treated only as a guide.
prospective buyers prior to the auction. Phillips de Pury & Company accepts bids on lots on the basis that bidders (and independent experts on their behalf, to the extent
(e) Subject to the auctioneer’s reasonable discretion, the highest bidder accepted by the
appropriate given the nature and value of the lot and the bidder’s own expertise) have fully
auctioneer will be the buyer and the striking of the hammer marks the acceptance of the
inspected the lot prior to bidding and have satisfied themselves as to both the condition of
highest bid and the conclusion of a contract for sale between the seller and the buyer. Risk
the lot and the accuracy of its description.
and responsibility for the lot passes to the buyer as set forth in Paragraph 7 below.
(c) Prospective buyers acknowledge that many lots are of an age and type which means
(f) If a lot is not sold, the auctioneer will announce that it has been ‘passed’, ‘withdrawn’,
that they are not in perfect condition. As a courtesy to clients, Phillips de Pury & Company
‘returned to owner’ or ‘bought-in’.
may prepare and provide condition reports to assist prospective buyers when they are inspecting lots. Catalogue descriptions and condition reports may make reference to
(g) Any post-auction sale of lots offered at auction shall incorporate these Conditions of
particular imperfections of a lot, but bidders should note that lots may have other faults
Sale and Authorship Warranty as if sold in the auction.
not expressly referred to in the catalogue or condition report. All dimensions are approximate. Illustrations are for identification purposes only and cannot be used as
6 PURCHaSE PRICE anD PaYmEnT
precise indications of size or to convey full information as to the actual condition of lots.
(a) The buyer agrees to pay us, in addition to the hammer price of the lot, the buyer’s premium, plus any applicable value added tax (VAT) and any applicable resale royalty (the
(d) Information provided to prospective buyers in respect of any lot, including any pre-sale
‘Purchase Price’). The buyer’s premium is 25% of the hammer price up to and including
estimate, whether written or oral, and information in any catalogue, condition or other
£25,000, 20% of the portion of the hammer price above £25,000 up to and including
report, commentary or valuation, is not a representation of fact but rather a statement of
£500,000 and 12% of the portion of the hammer price above £500,000.
opinion held by Phillips de Pury & Company. Any pre-sale estimate may not be relied on as a prediction of the selling price or value of the lot and may be revised from time to time by
(b) VAT is payable in accordance with applicable law. All prices, fees, charges and
Phillips de Pury & Company at our absolute discretion. Neither Phillips de Pury &
expenses set out in these Conditions of Sale are quoted exclusive of VAT.
Company nor any of our affiliated companies shall be liable for any difference between the pre-sale estimates for any lot and the actual price achieved at auction or upon resale.
(c) If the Artist’s Resale Right Regulations 2006 apply to the lot, the buyer agrees to pay to us an amount equal to the resale royalty provided for in those regulations and we
4 BIDDInG aT aUCTIOn
undertake to the buyer to pay such amount to the artist’s collection agent. Lots subject to
(a) Phillips de Pury & Company has absolute discretion to refuse admission to the auction
the Artist’s Resale Right are identified with the symbol ♠ next to the lot number.
or participation in the sale. All bidders must register for a paddle prior to bidding, supplying such information and references as required by Phillips de Pury & Company.
(d) Unless otherwise agreed, a buyer is required to pay for a purchased lot immediately following the auction regardless of any intention to obtain an export or import licence or
(b) As a convenience to bidders who cannot attend the auction in person, Phillips de Pury
other permit for such lot. Payments must be made by the invoiced party in pounds
& Company may, if so instructed by the bidder, execute written absentee bids on a bidder’s
sterling either by cash, cheque drawn on a UK bank or wire transfer, as follows:
behalf. Absentee bidders are required to submit bids on the ‘Absentee Bid Form’, a copy of which is printed in this catalogue or otherwise available from Phillips de Pury &
(i) Phillips de Pury & Company will accept payment in cash provided that the total
Company. Bids must be placed in the currency of the sale. The bidder must clearly
amount paid in cash or cash equivalents does not exceed the local currency
indicate the maximum amount he or she intends to bid, excluding the buyer’s premium and
equivalent of US$10,000.
value added tax (VAT). The auctioneer will not accept an instruction to execute an absentee bid which does not indicate such maximum bid. Our staff will attempt to execute
(ii) Personal cheques and banker’s drafts are accepted if drawn on a UK bank and
an absentee bid at the lowest possible price taking into account the reserve and other
the buyer provides to us acceptable government-issued identification. Cheques
bidders. Any absentee bid must be received at least 24 hours in advance of the sale. In the
and banker’s drafts should be made payable to ‘PDEPL LTD’. If payment is sent by
event of identical bids, the earliest bid received will take precedence.
post, please send the cheque or banker’s draft to the attention of the Client 537
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 537
22/03/10 15:09
Accounting Department at Howick Place, London SW1P 1BB and ensure that the
which is in their possession and, in each case, no earlier than 30 days from the date of
sale number is written on the cheque. Cheques or banker’s drafts drawn by third
such notice arrange the sale of such property and apply the proceeds to the amount owed
parties will not be accepted.
to Phillips de Pury & Company or any of our affiliated companies after the deduction from sale proceeds of our standard vendor’s commission, all sale-related expenses and any
(iii) Payment by wire transfer may be sent directly to Phillips de Pury & Company.
applicable taxes thereon; (vi) resell the lot by auction or private sale, with estimates and a
Bank transfer details are as follows:
reserve set at Phillips de Pury & Company’s reasonable discretion, it being understood that in the event such resale is for less than the original hammer price and buyer’s
Bank of Scotland
premium for that lot, the buyer will remain liable for the shortfall together with all costs
Gordon Street
incurred in such resale; (vii) commence legal proceedings to recover the hammer price
Glasgow
and buyer’s premium for that lot, together with interest and the costs of such proceedings;
G1 3RS
or (viii) release the name and address of the buyer to the seller to enable the seller to commence legal proceedings to recover the amounts due and legal costs.
For the account of PDEPL LTD Sort code: 80-54-01
(b) The buyer irrevocably authorizes Phillips de Pury & Company to exercise a lien over the
Account no.: 00440780
buyer’s property which is in our possession upon notification by any of our affiliated
SWIFT BIC: BOFSGB21138
companies that the buyer is in default of payment. Phillips de Pury & Company will notify
IBAN: GB36BOFS 8054 0100 4407 80
the buyer of any such lien. The buyer also irrevocably authorizes Phillips de Pury & Company, upon notification by any of our affiliated companies that the buyer is in default
(e) As a courtesy to clients, Phillips de Pury & Company will accept Visa, MasterCard and
of payment, to pledge the buyer’s property in our possession by actual or constructive
UK-issued debit cards to pay for invoices of £50,000 or less. A processing fee will apply.
delivery to our affiliated company as security for the payment of any outstanding amount due. Phillips de Pury & Company will notify the buyer if the buyer’s property has been delivered to an affiliated company by way of pledge.
(f) Title in a purchased lot will not pass until Phillips de Pury & Company has received the Purchase Price for that lot in cleared funds. Phillips de Pury & Company is not obliged to release a lot to the buyer until title in the lot has passed and appropriate identification has
(c) If the buyer is in default of payment, the buyer irrevocably authorizes Phillips de Pury &
been provided, and any earlier release does not affect the passing of title or the buyer’s
Company to instruct any of our affiliated companies in possession of the buyer’s property
unconditional obligation to pay the Purchase Price.
to deliver the property by way of pledge as the buyer’s agent to a third party instructed by Phillips de Pury & Company to hold the property on our behalf as security for the payment
7 COllECTIOn OF PROPERTY
of the Purchase Price and any other amount due and, no earlier than 30 days from the date
(a) Phillips de Pury & Company will not release a lot to the buyer until we have received
of written notice to the buyer, to sell the property in such manner and for such
payment of its Purchase Price in full in cleared funds, the buyer has paid all outstanding
consideration as can reasonably be obtained on a forced sale basis and to apply the
amounts due to Phillips de Pury & Company or any of our affiliated companies, including
proceeds to any amount owed to Phillips de Pury & Company or any of our affiliated
any charges payable pursuant to Paragraph 8 (a) below, and the buyer has satisfied such
companies after the deduction from sale proceeds of our standard vendor’s commission,
other terms as we in our sole discretion shall require, including completing any anti-
all sale-related expenses and any applicable taxes thereon.
money laundering or anti-terrorism financing checks. As soon as a buyer has satisfied all of the foregoing conditions, and no later than five days after the conclusion of the
10 RESCISSIOn BY PHIllIPS de PURY & COmPanY
auction, he or she should contact us at (tel) +44 207 318 4081 or (fax) +44 20 7318 4038 to
Phillips de Pury & Company shall have the right, but not the obligation, to rescind a sale
arrange for collection of purchased property.
without notice to the buyer if we reasonably believe that there is a material breach of the seller’s representations and warranties or the Authorship Warranty or an adverse claim is
(b) After the auction, we will transfer all lots to our fine arts storage facility located at
made by a third party. Upon notice of Phillips de Pury & Company’s election to rescind the
110–112 Morden Road, Mitcham, Surrey, CR4 4XB, and will so advise all buyers. Purchased
sale, the buyer will promptly return the lot to Phillips de Pury & Company, and we will then
lots are at the buyer’s risk, including the responsibility for insurance, from (i) the date of
refund the Purchase Price paid to us. As described more fully in Paragraph 13 below, the
collection or (ii) five days after the auction, whichever is the earlier. Until risk passes,
refund shall constitute the sole remedy and recourse of the buyer against Phillips de Pury
Phillips de Pury & Company will compensate the buyer for any loss or damage to a
& Company and the seller with respect to such rescinded sale.
purchased lot up to a maximum of the Purchase Price paid, subject to our usual 11 ExPORT, ImPORT anD EnDanGERED SPECIES lICEnCES anD PERmITS
exclusions for loss or damage to property.
Before bidding for any property, prospective buyers are advised to make their own (c) As a courtesy to clients, Phillips de Pury & Company will, without charge, wrap
enquiries as to whether a licence is required to export a lot from the United Kingdom or to
purchased lots for hand carry only. We do not provide packing, handling, insurance or
import it into another country. Prospective buyers are advised that some countries
shipping services. We will coordinate with shipping agents instructed by the buyer,
prohibit the import of property made of or incorporating plant or animal material, such as
whether or not recommended by Phillips de Pury & Company, in order to facilitate the
coral, crocodile, ivory, whalebone, rhinoceros horn or tortoiseshell, irrespective of age,
packing, handling, insurance and shipping of property bought at Phillips de Pury &
percentage or value. Accordingly, prior to bidding, prospective buyers considering export
Company. Any such instruction is entirely at the buyer’s risk and responsibility, and
of purchased lots should familiarize themselves with relevant export and import
we will not be liable for acts or omissions of third party packers or shippers.
regulations of the countries concerned. It is solely the buyer’s responsibility to comply with these laws and to obtain any necessary export, import and endangered species
(d) Phillips de Pury & Company will require presentation of government-issued
licences or permits. Failure to obtain a licence or permit or delay in so doing will not justify
identification prior to release of a lot to the buyer or the buyer’s authorized representative.
the cancellation of the sale or any delay in making full payment for the lot.
8 FaIlURE TO COllECT PURCHaSES
12 DaTa PROTECTIOn
(a) If the buyer pays the Purchase Price but fails to collect a purchased lot within 30 days
(a) In connection with the management and operation of our business and the marketing and
of the auction, the buyer will incur a late collection fee of £25, storage charges of £3 per
supply of auction related services, or as required by law, we may ask clients to provide
day and pro rated insurance charges of 0.1% of the Purchase Price per month on each
personal information about themselves or obtain information about clients from third parties
uncollected lot.
(e.g., credit information). If clients provide us with information that is defined by law as ‘sensitive’, they agree that Phillips de Pury & Company and our affiliated companies may use
(b) If a purchased lot is paid for but not collected within six months of the auction, the
it for the above purposes. Phillips de Pury & Company and our affiliated companies will not
buyer authorizes Phillips de Pury & Company, upon notice, to arrange a resale of the item
use or process sensitive information for any other purpose without the client’s express
by auction or private sale, with estimates and a reserve set at Phillips de Pury &
consent. If you would like further information on our policies on personal data or wish to make
Company’s reasonable discretion. The proceeds of such sale will be applied to pay for
corrections to your information, please contact us at +44 20 7318 4010. If you would prefer not to
storage charges and any other outstanding costs and expenses owed by the buyer to
receive details of future events please call the above number.
Phillips de Pury & Company or our affiliated companies and the remainder will be forfeited (b) In order to fulfil the services clients have requested, Phillips de Pury & Company may
unless collected by the buyer within two years of the original auction.
disclose information to third parties such as shippers. Some countries do not offer 9 REmEDIES FOR nOn-PaYmEnT
equivalent legal protection of personal information to that offered within the European
(a) Without prejudice to any rights the seller may have, if the buyer without prior
Union (EU). It is Phillips de Pury & Company’s policy to require that any such third parties
agreement fails to make payment of the Purchase Price for a lot in cleared funds within
respect the privacy and confidentiality of our clients’ information and provide the same
five days of the auction, Phillips de Pury & Company may in our sole discretion exercise
level of protection for client information as provided within the EU, whether or not they are
one or more of the following remedies: (i) store the lot at Phillips de Pury & Company’s
located in a country that offers equivalent legal protection of personal information. By
premises or elsewhere at the buyer’s sole risk and expense; (ii) cancel the sale of the lot,
agreeing to these Conditions of Sale, clients agree to such disclosure.
retaining any partial payment of the Purchase Price as liquidated damages; (iii) reject future bids from the buyer or render such bids subject to payment of a deposit; (iv) charge
13 lImITaTIOn OF lIaBIlITY
interest at 12% per annum from the date payment became due until the date the Purchase
(a) Subject to sub-paragraph (e) below, the total liability of Phillips de Pury & Company,
Price is received in cleared funds; (v) subject to notification of the buyer, exercise a lien
our affiliated companies and the seller to the buyer in connection with the sale of a lot
over any of the buyer’s property which is in the possession of Phillips de Pury & Company
shall be limited to the Purchase Price actually paid by the buyer for the lot.
and instruct our affiliated companies to exercise a lien over any of the buyer’s property 538
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 538
22/03/10 15:09
CONTEMPORARY ART aUCTIOnS nEW YORK PaRT I 13 MAY 2010 7pm PaRT II Viewing 8 – 13 May
14 MAY 2010 10am & 2pm
Phillips de Pury & Company 450 West 15 Street New York 10011 Enquiries +1 212 940 1260 Catalogues +1 212 940 1240 / +44 20 7318 4039 www.phillipsdepury.com
maRK TanSEY Redeployment, 1995 (detail) Estimate $1,500,000-2,500,000
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 539
22/03/10 15:09
aUTHORSHIP WaRRanTY (b) Except as otherwise provided in this Paragraph 13, none of Phillips de Pury &
Phillips de Pury & Company warrants the authorship of property in this auction catalogue
Company, any of our affiliated companies or the seller (i) is liable for any errors or
for a period of five years from date of sale by Phillips de Pury & Company, subject to the
omissions, whether orally or in writing, in information provided to prospective buyers by
exclusions and limitations set forth below.
Phillips de Pury & Company or any of our affiliated companies or (ii) accepts responsibility to any bidder in respect of acts or omissions, whether negligent or
(a) Phillips de Pury & Company gives this Authorship Warranty only to the original buyer
otherwise, by Phillips de Pury & Company or any of our affiliated companies in connection
of record (i.e., the registered successful bidder) of any lot. This Authorship Warranty
with the conduct of the auction or for any other matter relating to the sale of any lot.
does not extend to (i) subsequent owners of the property, including purchasers or recipients by way of gift from the original buyer, heirs, successors, beneficiaries and
(c) All warranties other than the Authorship Warranty, express or implied, including any
assigns; (ii) property created prior to 1870, unless the property is determined to be
warranty of satisfactory quality and fitness for purpose, are specifically excluded by
counterfeit (defined as a forgery made less than 50 years ago with an intent to deceive)
Phillips de Pury & Company, our affiliated companies and the seller to the fullest extent
and has a value at the date of the claim under this warranty which is materially less than
permitted by law.
the Purchase Price paid; (iii) property where the description in the catalogue states that there is a conflict of opinion on the authorship of the property; (iv) property where our
(d) Subject to sub-paragraph (e) below, none of Phillips de Pury & Company, any of our
attribution of authorship was on the date of sale consistent with the generally accepted
affiliated companies or the seller shall be liable to the buyer for any loss or damage
opinions of specialists, scholars or other experts; or (v) property whose description or
beyond the refund of the Purchase Price referred to in sub-paragraph (a) above, whether
dating is proved inaccurate by means of scientific methods or tests not generally
such loss or damage is characterised as direct, indirect, special, incidental or
accepted for use at the time of the publication of the catalogue or which were at such time
consequential, or for the payment of interest on the Purchase Price to the fullest extent
deemed unreasonably expensive or impractical to use.
permitted by law. (b) In any claim for breach of the Authorship Warranty, Phillips de Pury & Company (e) No provision in these Conditions of Sale shall be deemed to exclude or limit the liability
reserves the right, as a condition to rescinding any sale under this warranty, to require the
of Phillips de Pury & Company or any of our affiliated companies to the buyer in respect of
buyer to provide to us at the buyer’s expense the written opinions of two recognized
any fraud or fraudulent misrepresentation made by any of us or in respect of death or
experts approved in advance by Phillips de Pury & Company. We shall not be bound by any
personal injury caused by our negligent acts or omissions.
expert report produced by the buyer and reserve the right to consult our own experts at our expense. If Phillips de Pury & Company agrees to rescind a sale under the Authorship
14 COPYRIGHT
Warranty, we shall refund to the buyer the reasonable costs charged by the experts
The copyright in all images, illustrations and written materials produced by or for Phillips
commissioned by the buyer and approved in advance by us.
de Pury & Company relating to a lot, including the contents of this catalogue, is and shall remain at all times the property of Phillips de Pury & Company and, subject to the
(c) Subject to the exclusions set forth in subparagraph (a) above, the buyer may bring a
provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, such images and materials
claim for breach of the Authorship Warranty provided that (i) he or she has notified
may not be used by the buyer or any other party without our prior written consent. Phillips
Phillips de Pury & Company in writing within three months of receiving any information
de Pury & Company and the seller make no representations or warranties that the buyer of
which causes the buyer to question the authorship of the lot, specifying the auction in
a lot will acquire any copyright or other reproduction rights in it.
which the property was included, the lot number in the auction catalogue and the reasons why the authorship of the lot is being questioned and (ii) the buyer returns the lot to
15 GEnERal
Phillips de Pury & Company in the same condition as at the time of its auction and is able
(a) These Conditions of Sale, as changed or supplemented as provided in Paragraph 1
to transfer good and marketable title in the lot free from any third party claim arising after
above, and Authorship Warranty set out the entire agreement between the parties with
the date of the auction.
respect to the transactions contemplated herein and supersede all prior and contemporaneous written, oral or implied understandings, representations and
(d) The buyer understands and agrees that the exclusive remedy for any breach of the
agreements.
Authorship Warranty shall be rescission of the sale and refund of the original Purchase Price paid. This remedy shall constitute the sole remedy and recourse of the buyer against
(b) Notices to Phillips de Pury & Company shall be in writing and addressed to the
Phillips de Pury & Company, any of our affiliated companies and the seller and is in lieu of
department in charge of the sale, quoting the reference number specified at the beginning
any other remedy available as a matter of law. This means that none of Phillips de Pury &
of the sale catalogue. Notices to clients shall be addressed to the last address notified by
Company, any of our affiliated companies or the seller shall be liable for loss or damage
them in writing to Phillips de Pury & Company.
beyond the remedy expressly provided in this Authorship Warranty, whether such loss or damage is characterized as direct, indirect, special, incidental or consequential, or for the payment of interest on the original Purchase Price.
(c) These Conditions of Sale are not assignable by any buyer without our prior written consent but are binding on the buyer’s successors, assigns and representatives. (d) Should any provision of these Conditions of Sale be held void, invalid or unenforceable for any reason, the remaining provisions shall remain in full force and effect. No failure by any party to exercise, nor any delay in exercising, any right or remedy under these Conditions of Sale shall act as a waiver or release thereof in whole or in part. (e) No term of these Conditions of Sale shall be enforceable under the Contracts (Rights of Third Parties) Act 1999 by anyone other than the buyer. 16 laW anD JURISDICTIOn (a) The rights and obligations of the parties with respect to these Conditions of Sale and Authorship Warranty, the conduct of the auction and any matters related to any of the foregoing shall be governed by and interpreted in accordance with English law. (b) For the benefit of Phillips de Pury & Company, all bidders and sellers agree that the Courts of England are to have exclusive jurisdiction to settle all disputes arising in connection with all aspects of all matters or transactions to which these Conditions of Sale and Authorship Warranty relate or apply. All parties agree that Phillips de Pury & Company shall retain the right to bring proceedings in any court other than the Courts of England. (c) All bidders and sellers irrevocably consent to service of process or any other documents in connection with proceedings in any court by facsimile transmission, personal service, delivery by mail or in any other manner permitted by English law, the law of the place of service or the law of the jurisdiction where proceedings are instituted at the last address of the bidder or seller known to Phillips de Pury & Company.
540
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 540
22/03/10 15:09
AFRICA COnTEmPORaRY aRT aUCTIOn 15 MAY 2010 Viewing 8 – 15 May
PHOTOGRaPHS
DESIGn
EDITIOnS
nEW YORK
Phillips de Pury & Company 450 West 15 Street New York 10011 Enquiries +1 212 940 1234 themes@phillipsdepury.com Catalogues +1 212 940 1240 / +44 20 7318 4039 www.phillipsdepury.com
CHÉRI SamBa Les Capotes Utilisées, 1990 Estimate $25,000-35,000
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 541
22/03/10 15:10
PHIllIPS de PURY & COmPanY
Chairman
Directors
advisory Board
Simon de Pury
Aileen Agopian
Maria Bell
Sean Cleary
Janna Bullock
Finn Dombernowsky
Lisa Eisner
Patty Hambrecht
Lapo Elkann
Alexander Payne
Ben Elliot
Rodman Primack
Lady Elena Foster
Olivier Vrankenne
H.I.H. Francesca von Habsburg
Chief Executive Officer Bernd Runge
Marc Jacobs
Senior Directors
Malcolm McLaren
Michael McGinnis
Ernest Mourmans
Dr. Michaela de Pury
Aby Rosen Christiane zu Salm Juergen Teller Princess Gloria von Thurn und Taxis Jean Michel Wilmotte Anita Zabludowicz
InTERnaTIOnal SPECIalISTS
Berlin Brussels Buenos aires
Shirin Kranz, Specialist, Contemporary Art +49 30 880 018 42 Olivier Vrankenne, International Senior Specialist +32 486 43 43 44 Brooke de Ocampo, International Specialist, Contemporary Art +44 777 551 7060
Geneva
Katie Kennedy Perez, Specialist, Contemporary Art +41 22 906 8000
london
Dr. Michaela de Pury, International Senior Director, Contemporary Art +49 17 289 73611
los angeles milan moscow Shanghai/Beijing Singapore Zurich/Israel
Maya McLaughlin, Contemporary Art +1 323 791 1771 Laura Garbarino, International Specialist, Contemporary Art +39 339 478 9671 Svetlana Marich, Specialist, Contemporary Art +7 495 225 88 22 Jeremy Wingfield, International Specialist, Contemporary Art +852 6895 1805 Chin-Chin Yap, Specialist, Contemporary Art +1 347 784 6916 Fiona Biberstein, International Specialist, Contemporary Art +41 43 344 86 32
GEnERal COUnSEl
manaGInG DIRECTORS
Patty Hambrecht
Finn Dombernowsky, London/Europe Sean Cleary, New York (Interim)
WORlDWIDE OFFICES NEW YORK
PARIS
BERLIN
450 West 15 Street, New York, NY 10011, USA
15 rue de la Paix, 75002 Paris, France
Auguststrasse 19, 10117 Berlin, Germany
tel +1 212 940 1200 fax +1 212 924 5403
tel +33 1 42 78 67 77 fax +33 1 42 78 23 07
tel +49 30 8800 1842 fax +49 30 8800 1843
LONDON
GENEVA
Howick Place, London SW1P 1BB, United Kingdom
23 quai des Bergues, 1201 Geneva, Switzerland
tel +44 20 7318 4010 fax +44 20 7318 4011
tel +41 22 906 80 00 fax +41 22 906 80 01
542
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 542
22/03/10 15:10
SPECIalISTS anD DEPaRTmEnTS
COnTEmPORaRY aRT Michael McGinnis, Senior Director
mODERn anD COnTEmPORaRY EDITIOnS
+1 212 940 1254
NEW YORK
and Worldwide Head, Contemporary Art
Cary Leibowitz, Worldwide Co-Director
+1 212 940 1222
Kelly Troester, Worldwide Co-Director
+1 212 940 1221
Jannah Greenblatt
+1 212 940 1332
Joy Deibert
+1 212 940 1333
LONDON Peter Sumner, Head of Sales, London
+44 20 7318 4063
Henry Allsopp
+44 20 7318 4060
Laetitia Catoir
+44 20 7318 4064
Judith Hess
+44 20 7318 4075
Leonie Moschner
+44 20 7318 4074
Ivgenia Naiman
+44 20 7318 4071
PHOTOGRaPHS LONDON Lou Proud
+44 20 7318 4018
Sebastien Montabonel
+44 20 7318 4025
Sarah Buchwald
+44 20 7318 4085
Catherine Higgs
+44 20 7318 4089
Alexandra Bibby
+44 20 7318 4087
George O’Dell
+44 20 7318 4093
Rita Almeida Freitas
+44 20 7318 4087
Raphael Lepine
+44 20 7318 4078
Helen Hayman
+44 20 7318 4092
Tanya Tikhnenko
+44 20 7318 4065
Emma Lewis
+44 20 7318 4092
Phillippa Willison
+44 20 7318 4070 NEW YORK
NEW YORK Aileen Agopian, New York Director
+1 212 940 1255
Sarah Mudge, Head of Part II
+1 212 940 1259
Jeremy Goldsmith
+1 212 940 1253
Vanessa Kramer, New York Director
+1 212 940 1243
Shlomi Rabi
+1 212 940 1246
Caroline Shea
+1 212 940 1247
Timothy Malyk
+1 212 940 1258
Carol Ehlers, Consultant
+1 212 940 1245
Jean-Michel Placent
+1 212 940 1263
Sarah Krueger
+1 212 940 1245
Rodman Primack
+1 212 940 1256
Roxana Bruno
+1 212 940 1229
Maria Bueno
+1 212 940 1261
Sara Davidson
+1 212 940 1262
Alexandra Leive
+1 212 940 1252
Peter Flores
+1 212 940 1223
(Uli) Zhiheng Huang
+1 212 940 1288
JEWElRY Nazgol Jahan, Worldwide Director
NEW YORK
PARIS Edouard de Moussac
+1 212 940 1283
Carmela Manoli
+1 212 940 1302
Emily Bangert
+1 212 940 1365
Heather Zises
+1 212 940 1290
+ 33 1 42 78 67 77 GENEVA
DESIGn Alexander Payne, Worldwide Director
Carolin Bulgari
+41 22 906 80 00
Veronica Lota
+41 22 906 80 00
+44 20 7318 4052 LONDON Lane McLean
LONDON Domenico Raimondo
+44 20 7318 4016
Ellen Stelter
+44 20 7318 4021
Ben Williams
+44 20 7318 4027
Marcus McDonald
+44 20 7318 4014
Marine Hartogs
THEmE SalES LONDON
+44 20 7318 4021
Tobias Sirtl, London Manager
+44 20 7318 4095
NEW YORK Alex Heminway, New York Director
+1 212 940 1269
Tara DeWitt
+1 212 940 1265
Meaghan Roddy
+1 212 940 1266
Marcus Tremonto
+1 212 940 1268
Alexandra Gilbert
+1 212 940 1268
Henry Highley
+44 20 7318 4061
Arianna Jacobs
+44 20 7318 4054
Siobhan O’Connor
+44 20 7318 4040
NEW YORK Corey Barr, New York Manager
+1 212 940 1234
Steve Agin, Consultant
+1 908 475 1796
Anne Huntington
+1 212 940 1210
Stephanie Max
+1 212 940 1301
PARIS Johanna Frydman
+44 20 7318 4032
+33 1 42 78 67 77 PRIVaTE SalES NEW YORK Andrea Hill
EDITORIal Karen Wright, Senior Editor Iggy Cortez, Assistant to the Editor
aRT anD PRODUCTIOn Fiona Hayes, Art Director LONDON Mark Hudson, Senior Designer Andrew Lindesay, Sub-Editor Tom Radcliffe, UK Production Manager
+1 212 940 1238
maRKETInG NEW YORK Trish Walsh, Marketing Manager Gizelle Ferrer, Graphic Designer
NEW YORK Andrea Koronkiewicz, Studio Manager Kelly Sohngen, Graphic Designer Orlann Capazorio, US Production Manager 543
BRIC_Backmatter_532-543.indd 543
22/03/10 15:10
sALe inFoRmAtion
Auctions Friday 23 April 2010: Evening Sale, 5pm Saturday 24 April 2010: China Sale, 11am India Sale, 1pm Russia Sale, 3pm Brazil Sale, 5pm Viewing Sunday 18 –Friday 23 April, 10am – 6pm Viewing & Auction LocAtion The Saatchi Gallery, Duke of York’s HQ, King’s Road, London SW3 4SQ wAReHouse & coLLection LocAtion 110–112 Morden Road, Mitcham, Surrey CR4 4XB sALe DesignAtion When sending in written bids or making enquiries, please refer to this sale as UK000210 or BRIC tHeme sALes London +44 20 7318 4040 New York +1 212 940 1234 themes@phillipsdepury.com cAtALogues London +44 20 7318 4039 New York +1 212 940 1240 catalogues@phillipsdepury.com Catalogues £30/$60 at the Gallery Absentee AnD teLepHone biDs Anna Ho tel +44 20 7318 4045 fax +44 20 7318 4035 bids@phillipsdepury.com buyeRs Accounts Carolyn Whitehead +44 20 7318 4020 seLLeR Accounts Elliot Depree +44 20 7318 4072 cLient seRVices Harmony Johnston +44 20 7318 4010 Kathryn Walters +44 20 7318 4010 Charlotte Salisbury +44 20 7318 4010 wAReHouse & sHipping Kate Spalding + 44 20 7318 4081 Cláudia Gonçalves + 44 20 7318 4026 pHotogRApHy Byron Slater
back cover Grisha Bruskin, Untitled from Birth of the Hero (detail), 1987–90, Lot 28 inside back cover T. V. Santhosh, Enemies’ Enemy II (detail), 2008, Lot 12 544
BRIC_Backmatter_544-545.indd 544
22/03/10 15:11
BRIC_Covers singole.indd 547
23/03/10 08:54
w w w. p h i l l i p s d e p u ry.c o m
BRIC_Covers singole.indd 548
23/03/10 08:53