MSU krivo srastanje

krivo srastanje FOTOGR AFIJE IVANA POSAVCA I MIJE VESOVIĆA IZ ZBIRKE FOTOGR AFIJA MSU

malunion PHOTOGR APHS

BY IVAN POSAVEC & MIJO VESOVIĆ FROM THE PHOTOGR APHIC COLLECTION OF MSU

07. 07. - 09. 08. 2015.

no galerija

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krivo srastanje LEILA TOPIĆ

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Dok svi tvoji besprizorni usrećitelji I samozvani štovaoci onog sto ne razumiju I svi tvoji plaćeni nitkovi, doušnici i sjecikese I svi tvoji mutavi urlatori zvučnih titula Hrabro spletkare zaštićeni lopovskim kodeksom Koji štiti vjernike od zaraženih A svaku duhovitost uvijek i na vrijeme Efikasno liječe u samom začetku Pa kakvo ime da ti damo gospođice od tri pedlja?

Krivo srastanje, gospodine, krivo srastanje ...

Azra, Krivo srastanje

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Izložba je prvobitno bila

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Fotografija koju je izabrao

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“Zagrebački Polet s kraja

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“Fotograf nudi svoj foto-

zamišljena kao skup­ na izložba umjetnika koji su se realizirali kroz pole­ tovsku školu fotografije, odnosno kroz svojevrsni ot­k lon od nje poput Da­ nila Dučka, Siniše Kna­ fleca, Dražena Kalenića, Željka Stojanovića����� , Fe­ dora Vučemilovića, Ja­ smina Krpana, Šime Strikomana�������� , Andri­ je Zelmanovića, Sa­ nje i Marija BachrachKrištofića, Igo­ra Kelčeca i drugih. Ideja se razvi­ la tijekom okruglog sto­ la Zagreb 80-ih i Poletova fotografija kojeg sam inici­ rala povodom Dana Arhi­ va Toše Dabca u ožujku 2010. Štulić je umnožavana sve dok konačni rezultat nije bio hibrid između fo­ tografije i crteža. U do­ njem lijevom kutu nalazi se štambilj proizašao iz fo­ tografije Borisa Greinera za vojnu knjižicu okružen nazivom albuma i ime­nom grupe.

70-ih vjerojatno je najznačajniji omladinski list koji se ikada pojavio u Jugoslaviji. Ipak, njegovu je pojavu omogućilo upra­ vo prethodno burno raz­ doblje obuhvaćeno mojom izložbom.” Marko Zubak u razgovoru s Markom Golubom povodom Zuba­ kove izložbe “Jugoslaven­ ski omladinski tisak kao under­ground press: 1968 -1972.” http://stari.dizajn. hr/#1156-marko-zubakkako-je-omladinski-tisakpostao-alternativa komentar, a ne samo ne­ zainteresiranu, distanci­ ranu deskripciju zadanog motiva. Upravo je, čini mi se, to uključivanje vlasti­ ta stava jedna od karakte­ ristika fotografije u Pole­ tu. To se očituje u svim boljim rješenjima, radilo se o potresu u Crnoj Gori, dočeku Nove godine ili koncertu Tine Turner.”

Vladimir Gudac, “Nova novinska fotografija”, Pitanja, 10 -12 (1980):4

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ada sam prije pet godina promišljala izložbu koja bi predstavila zaokružene fotografske opuse Ivana Posavca i Mije Vesovića1 iz 80-ih godina što se nalaze u Zbirci fotografije Muzeja suvremene umjetnosti, gotovo nesvjesno za naziv projekta mi se nametnula Azrina pjesma Krivo srastanje s istoimenog albuma objavlje­ nog 1984. Na naslovnici albuma, koju potpisuje dizajnerski tandem Greiner & Kropilak, prikazana je crno-bijela fotografija radnika pri izlasku iz tvor­ nice2 a koja me podsjetila na brojne Po­ sav­čeve fotografije radnica/ka punih samopoštovanja snimljenih u radničkim menzama ili proizvodnim pogonima.

Promišljajući o pojmu krivog srastanja palo mi je na um kako su radnici nestali s povlaštenih mjesta u medijskoj reprezen­ taciji upravo kao i fotoreporteri, odno­ sno fotoreportaže - o čemu detaljnije u ovom katalogu piše Dejan Kršić u teks­ tu Kaži gdje su nestali. Stoga, namjera ove izložbe nije bila predstaviti još jedan projekt koji veliča retromanijsku fantazi­ ju o osamdesetim godinama u Jugoslavi­ ji i Zagrebu nego postaviti pitanja kako danas čitati ove fotografije i što one go­ vore današnjoj publici.

Učinak reprezentacije (pozivanje su­ bjekta u proizvodnji ideološkog značenja) zahtjeva, tvrdi Victor Burgin u djelu Mi­­ sliti fotografiju, da pozornica reprezen­ tiranog (fotografije kao objekta-teksta) susretne pozornicu reprezentirajućeg (gle­­­­dajućeg subjekta) u bešavnom spoju.

Međutim, takva integracija je nemoguća jer, kako Burgin navodi, svako proma­ tranje fotografije s vremenskim odma­ kom proizvodi i izaziva frustraciju.

Na­­­­­­ime, fotografija je strukturirano i strukturirajuće mjesto u kojemu čitatelj koristi poznate kodove kako bi stvorio smisao. Promatramo li fotografije Posav­ ca i Vesovića, Burginovu frustraciju valja zamijeniti složenijim kritičkim analiza­ ma koje uključuju promjenu ekonom­ skih, političkih i kulturalnih konteksta.

Raspravljamo li o fotografiji kao medij­ ski i društveno posredovanoj kultural­

noj praksi, nužno ju je artikulirati kao konstitutivan dio određenog vremens­kog razdoblja i pripadajuće mu ideologije. Ve­­ ćina izloženih fotografija datira iz kasnog socijalizma, objavljena je ili je nastala za objavljivanje u Poletu ili Studentskom listu, najpropulzivnijim predstavnicima3 omladinskog tiska koji je, sve do kraja 80-ih kada je naprasno nestao, bio inova­ tivno, nerijetko i subverzivno sjecište različitih vidova studentskih pokreta, životnih stilova, spolnosti, studentske i radničke svakodnevice ili ljevičarske kri­­tike sustava. Riječ je o uglavnom re­­ portažnim, gradskim fotografijama koji­ ma su Posavec i Vesović upražnjavali Bressonov pojam odlučujućeg trenu­t­ ka: interpretirali događaje ili novinar­ ske pripovijesti uvjetovani praktičnim ograničenjima (poput kratkog vremen­ skog roka ili uredničkih kriterija), ne pri­ bjegavajući pritom konvencionalizaci­ ji fotografije tipičnoj za dnevne novine.

Naprotiv, od 1978. kada Goran Trbuljak u Poletu postaje grafički urednik i ure­ dnik fotografije, taj medij dobiva sasvim novu funkciju te zauzima čitavu stranicu ili dvije, urednik poštuje izrez fotogra­ fa te potiče uključivanje fotorepor­tera u aktivno stvaranje novina. K tome, iako su fotografske teme naručene, njiho­vo rješenje je osobno i karakteristično za svakog autora4.

Promatrajući fotografije Posavca i Ve­sovića otkrivam kako njihovi rado­ vi suptilno tumače iscrpljenost i zamor sustava istodobno postajući izvjestan katalizator njegova rasapa. Tako Po­ sav­­čeva fotografija naslovljena Omladi­ nac prikazuje dječaka krhke građe, tek na pragu puberteta, ogrnutog preveli­ kom kabanicom kako drži jugoslaven­ sku zastavicu. Da­­leko od nekadašnjih herojskih prikaza omladine, dječak ne maše zastavicom nego ju nevoljko drži u ruci te melankolično, sa namještenim smiješkom, zuri u fotografski objektiv.

Vesović, pak, prati rock koncerte s obzi­ rom da Polet 1979. i 1980. ��������� č�������� ak pede­ set posto svojih stranica posvećuje bu­ dnom praćenju i podržavanju domaće i međunarodne rock, punk i novovalne

scene, pridajući veliku pažnju tim foto­ grafijama kao sredstvu komuniciranja određenih suprotstavljanja dominatnim strukturama i ideologijama.

Posavec odmak od dominantnih ide­o­­loških struktura naziva sitnim di­ verzijama koje su pomniji promatrači/ čitatelji percipirali kao nedostatnost ide­ ja vladajućih u kojima su se ideološki označitelji i društveni referent nepovra­ tno mimoišli. Izložene fotografije tako­ đer svjedoče o nestanku optimizma ra­­­nog socijalizma kojeg je zamije­nio cinizam vladajućih odnosno ironija kao prevladavajući stvaralački princip.

Aleš Erjavec u djelu Postmodernizam i postsocijalističko stanje 5 navodi kako je kultura i umjetnost kasnog socijali­ zma pokazivala karakteristike koje da­ nas iščitavamo kao postmodernističke procedure poput, između ostalog, obilne upo­rabe socijalističke i komunističke iko­ nografije. Najpoznatiji primjer takvih praksi vjerojatno je instalacija Mladena Stilinovića Eksploatacija mrtvih iz 1981, koja se sastoji od objekata malih forma­ ta, slika, fotografija i kolaža s političkih skupova, radnih akcija, sletova, mitinga, groblja i tvorničkih dimnjaka. No, jedna­ ko analitički zanimljiva je i Posavčeva fotografija Toma Gotovca koji, sni­mljen s leđa, u samokažnjavajućoj gesti iznad glave podiže srp i čekić6. Erja­vec koristi pojam binarni umjetnički pri­s­tup koji re­ zultira radovima u kojima se susreću dvi­ je realnosti (socijalistička i kapitalistička) istodobno zadržavajući međusobnu isključivost. Primjer takvog pristupa je Vesovićeva fotografija naslo­vljena Za­ greb iz 1982, gdje u kameru drsko gledaju dva starmala punkera, od kojih je jedan ukrašen omčom za vješanje, naslonjena na izlog dućana na čiji je izlog zalijepljen plakat s Titovim potpisom sa­stavljen od zvijezdi petokraki na rasterskoj pozadi­ ni uzorka srpa i čekića. Odmah iznad plakata nalazi se naljepnica s Coca-Co­ linim logotipom simbolizirajući složenu i isprepletenu simbiozu ideologija jugo­ slavenskog sustava.

U trenutku kada se društveno-poli­ tički kontekst iz kasnog socijalizma

TOM GOTOVAC

Plakat za izložbu Ivana Posavca The poster for the exhibition of Ivan Posavec 1985.

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Postmodernism and the

Postsocialist Condition Politicized Art under Late Socialism, Ales Erjavec (Editor), Ahmanson- Murphy Fine Arts Book, September 2003 6 Posrijedi je plakat pot pisan logotipom MO (Meko oki­danje – naziv studija kojim su Posavec i Vesović od 1979. ponekad potpisiva­ li fotografije) koji je za Posavčevu izložbu u MSU, zajedno s katalogom, dizaj­nirao Tom Gotovac 1985. Tri go­ dine ka­snije, Gotovac je također dizajnirao plakat i katalog za izložbu foto­ grafija Mije Vesovića.

Prema Posavčevim riječima, on i Gotovac su se tijekom 80ih ne­ prestano družili te su brisali granice autorstva između performansa i njegove dokumen­tacije za fotografski objektiv.

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Stuart Hall u svom mo­delu kodiranja/dekodira­ nja razlikuje preferira­ no čitanje - kada publi­ ka čita poruku na način na koju ju je njezin tvorac zamislio, pregovaračko čitanje - kada se publika djelomično slaže s poru­ kom te opozicijsko čitanje koje u potpunosti negira značenje poruke.

pre­­­obrazio u jasno vidljivi kapitalizam nastaju nesporazumi, odnosno krivo sra­ stanje u interpretaciji određenog dijela Posavčevog i Vesovićevog opusa. Naime koristeći analitički alat Stuarta Halla kojeg je on rabio istražujući sredstva ma­­­sovnih komunikacija, zaključujem kako je nestao pregovarački kod 7 prisutan prilikom iščitavanja fotografija u vrije­ me njihova nastanka. Na Posavčevim i Vesovićevim fotografijama dekodira­ la su se protuslovlja dominantne ideo­ logije socijalizma, a sitne diverzije po­ put melankoličnih radnika, neherojskih omladinaca ili obeshrabrenih političara sadržavale su spoj prilagodbenih i opor­ benih elemenata, priznajući kasnom so­ cijalizmu povlaštenu poziciju moći no isto­dobno operirajući unutar posebnih situacija. Međutim, zbog paradigmat­ skih promjena iz socijalizma u kapitali­ zam koje su transformirale građanina u potrošača, javno u privatno, informativno u zabavno te bitno promijenile kontekst,

mjesto pregovaračkog iščitavanja je nesta­ lo. Tržišno orijentirani medij­ski sustavi pokazali su se pogubnim za istraživačko novinarstvo, medijske slobo­de, kvalitetu sadržaja ali i za tretman publike koja u recentnoj duhovnoj rekonkvisti i medij­ ski konstruiranom propisanom zaboravu socijalističkog na­­­sljeđa okreće glavu od socijalističke ikonografije i njene vizualne popudbine, u boljoj inačici smatrajući kako je riječ tek o povijesnom dokumen­ tu koji svjedoči o mrskome režimu. Sto­ ga motivi i inter­pretacije Posavčevih i Vesovićevih fotografija danas operiraju unutar Hallovog opozicijskog koda, pre­ ciznije nerijetko su tumačene na način protivan namjerama autora bez obzira je li posrijedi eksploatacija nostalgične reminiscencije o starim dobrim novoval­ nim vremenima ili demonizaciji jugo­ slavenskog socijalističkog poretka. Pri­ tom valja imati na umu da nije povijest neprijatelj, kako to konstruiraju mediji podržavajući recentnu ideju o lustraciji društva od socijalističkog nasljeđa, nego upravo kapitalizam koji, da paradoks bude veći, razdire i zdravo tkivo medij­ skog sustava.

Kako onda, naposljetku, danas pro­ matrati krivo srasle fotografije? Ulaskom u muzej, koji kao repozitorij sjećanja nudi strategije poredbe i alternativ­ ni pogled. Naime, izložba Krivo srasta­ nje je i svojevrsna posveta podržavajućoj ruci nekadašnjeg kustosa MSU Davo­ ra Matičevića, kako Posavec naziva ini­ cijativu o otkupu i izložbi njegovih i Vesovićevih fotografija iz 1985, odno­ sno 1988. Upravo je Matičevićeva vizija o neupitnoj kvaliteti fotografija dvojca mekog okidanja omogućila muzealizaciju reportažne fotografije, odnosno prvu ika­ da zajedničku izložbu ovog povremenog tandema. Baš u sukobu oko interpretaci­ ja, muzej postaje mjesto mogućeg, novog opozicijskog čitanja fotografskog opu­ sa Posavca i Vesovića, mjesto političke izvedbe u kojoj borba oko značenja ne prestaje.

malunion LEILA TOPIĆ

… A nd while all your unbecoming joy-makers And self-proclaimed admirers of what they don’t understand And all your paid scoundrels, informants and thugs And all your dumb screamers with impressive titles Bravely plot protected by the ethics of thievery Protecting the believers from the infected And curing every humour always, timely, And efficiently right at the start, What name should we call you, three-yard Miss?

Malunion, sir, malunion…

Azra, Krivo srastanje (eng. Malunion)

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ive years ago, when I was devising an exhibition that would present the wellrounded photographic oeu­ vre of Ivan Posavec and Mio Vesović from the 1980s kept in the Museum of Contemporary Art’s Collection of Pho­ tography,1 the song Malunion, from Az­ ra’s eponymous 1984 album, popped in my mind as the project name almost spontaneously. The album cover designed

by Greiner & Kropilak is a black and white photograph of workers leaving a factory,2 which reminded me of Posavec’s

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The exhibition was first

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The photograph chosen by

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“The Zagreb-based Polet,

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“The photographer express-

meant as a group exhibi­ tion presenting the art­ ists who made a name for themselves through the Polet School and in a cer­ tain opposition to it, such as Danilo Dučak, Siniša Knaflec, Dražen Kalenić, Željko Stojanović, Fe­ dor Vučemilović, Jasmin Krpan, Šime Strikoman, Andrija Zelmanović, San­ ja and Mario BachrachKrištofić, Igor Kelčec and others. The idea developed at the roundtable Zagreb in the 1980s and the Polet Photography I organised in March 2010 as part of the Tošo Dabac Archive Days. the band leader Štulić was xeroxed until the final re­ sult was a hybrid between a photo and a drawing. In the bottom left-hand cor­ ner there is a rubber stamp taken from Greiner’s mili­ tary service booklet photo­ graph, encircled by the al­ bum title and the name of the band. from the late 1970s, was pro­bably the most impor­ tant youth magazine ever to appear in Yugoslavia. Still, its appearance was made possible precisely by the tu­ multuous period covered by my exhibition.” Mar­ ko Zubak in an interview with Marko Golub, on the occa­sion of Zubak’s exhibi­ tion Yugoslav Youth Press as Underground Press: 19681972. http://stari.dizajn. hr/#1156-marko-zubakkako-je-omladinski-tisakpostao-alternativa es his photo-comment, and not only the disinte­ rested, detached descrip­ tion of the given motif.

This inclusion of one’s per­ sonal point of view seems to be one of the qualities of Polet photography, obvi­ ous in its best exemplars, be it an earthquake in Monte­ negro, a New Year’s Eve, or a Tina Turner concert.”

Vladimir Gudac, “Nova novin­ska fotografija,” Pi­ tanja, 10-12 (1980): 4.

countless photographs of proud wor­kers in messhalls or factory plants. As I was pondering the notion of malunion, it crossed my mind how workers have lost their privileged position in the media, just like photo-journalists and co­ver sto­ ries, the process described in more detail

by Dejan Kršić in his text Tell us, where they’ve gone? in this catalogue. The aim of that exhibition was not to present ano­ ther project glorifying the retroma­niac fantasy of the 1980s in Yugoslavia or Zag­reb, but to raise questions about how to read these photographs today and the message they convey to today’s public.

The effect of representation (as the appeal to the subject in the production of ideological meaning), claims Victor Burgin in Thinking Photography, requires that the stage of representing (photo­ graph as object-text) and the stage of representation (the observing subject) should merge seamlessly. However, such integration is impossible, claims Burgin, since, due to a temporal distance, the act of observing a photograph produ­ces and induces frustration. Photograp­hy is a structured and structuring place where the reader uses familiar codes to create meaning. In the context of the photo­ graphs of Posavec and Vesović, Burgin’s frustration should be replaced with more complex critical analyses, inclu­ding a change in the economic, poli­tical, and cultural contexts. Understood as a so­ cially-mediated practice, photography should be interpreted as a constituent part of a certain period and the atten­ dant ideology. The photographs belong to the period of early and mid-1980s late socialism and most of them were pu­bli­ shed or commissioned by Polet or Stu­ dentski list, the most prominent of youth magazines,3 which were, until they sud­ denly disappeared in the 1990s, an inno­ vative, often subversive meeting point for different aspects of student movements, lifestyles, sexualities, student and worker daily life or leftist criticism of the system.

These are mainly urban scenes in which Posavec and Vesović captured Bresson’s notion of the decisive moment and inter­

preted events or news stories under pra­­ c­ti­­cal limitations of deadline or edito­ rial criteria, refusing to streamline their images in a typical newspaper manner.

Quite the contrary, ever since in 1978 Go­­­ran Trbuljak took over as layout and photography editor of Polet, the medium of photography acquired an entirely new function. The editor gave photographs a whole page or even a spread, respec­ ting the photographer’s frame and incited photo-journalists to get actively involved in news-making. Besides, although pho­ tographs were commissioned, their style was personal and most idiosyncratic.4 A closer look at Posavec and Vesović’s photographs reveals how their works subt­ly interpret the depletion and fati­ gue of the system and at the same time be­­comes a sort of catalyst of its decay. For instance, Posavec’s photograph called Omladinac shows a fragile boy on the verge of puberty, wrapped in an oversi­ zed raincoat, holding a Yugoslav flag.

The boy, far from previous heroic depic­ tions of socialist youth, is not waving the flag, but holds it in his hand unwillingly, with a fake smile, and stares in the came­ ra. For his part, Vesović covers rock con­ certs, since throughout 1979 and 1980 Polet dedicated as much as 50 per cent of its pages to painstaking coverage and support to the national and international rock, punk and New Wave scene. These photographs received great attention as a means of communication of certain oppositions to the dominant structures and ideologies.

Posavec calls such drifts away from the dominant ideological structures small diversions. They were perceived by careful observers/readers as a lack in the previal­ ing ideas, in which ideological signifiers and social reference irreversibly missed each other. The photographs also testi­ fy to the disappearance of early socialist optimism, which was replaced by the cy­ ni­cism of the ruling class, or by irony as the dominant creative principle. In his book Postmodernism and the Postsocia­list Condition,5 Aleš Erjavec claims that late socialist culture and art displayed chara­

c­teristics that are today read as post-mo­ dernist procedures, such as, for exam­ ple, the excessive use of socialist and commu­nist iconography. The most fa­ mous exam­ple of such practices is pro­ bably Mladen Stilinović’s installation Exploitation of the Dead (1981), consis­ ting of small formats, paintings, photo­ graphs and collages from political rallies, labour actions, meetings, marches, ceme­ teries, and factory chimneys. However, Posavec’s photograph of Tom Gotovac, captured from behind raising a hammer and sickle above his head in a self-puni­ shing gesture, is equally analytically in­ teresting.6 Erjavec uses the term binary artistic approach, which results in works where the two realities (socialist and capi­ talist) converge even as they remain mu­ tually exclusive. One example of such approach is Vesović’s photograph Za­ greb (1982), with two precocious young punks looking cheekily at the camera as they lean against a shop-window with Tito’s signature composed of five-poin­ ted stars against a raster of hammers and sickles. Right above the poster there is a sticker with a Coca-Cola logo, symboli­ sing a complex and intertwined symbio­ sis of ideologies of the Yugoslav regime.

At the point when the socio-political context was transformed from late socia­ lism into clearly visible capitalism, mis­ understandings and malunions appear in the interpretation of a certain part of the work of Posavec and Vesović. Draw­ ing on the analytic tools Stuart Hall used to explore mass communication means, I conclude that the negotiating code7present when the photos were taken has disappe­ ared. In Posavec and Vesović’s photo­ graphs the contradicions of the dominant ideology of socialism were decoded: small diversions, such as melancholy workers, unheroic socialist youth, or disillusioned politicians, contained a combination of elements of adjustment and opposition.

Even as they acknowledged late socialism the privileged position of power, they operated within special situations. How­ ever, due to paradigmatic changes from socialism to capitalism, which transfor­

med citi­zens into consumers, public into pri­­vate, informative into entertaining, and signi­ficantly altered the socio-politi­ cal and economic context, the place of ne­­­­­­ go­tiated reading has vanished. Marketorien­ted media systems have proven fatal to investigative journalism, media fre­ edom, content quality, but also to the treat­­­­ment of the audience, who in recent spiritual retreat and media-constructed obli­vion of socialist heritage turn their heads away from socialist iconography and its visual legacy, and in its better ver­sion thinks this is merely a historical document testifying to the hated regime.

Therefore, the motifs and interpretations of Posavec and Vesović’s photographs ope­rate today in line with Hall’s oppositio­ nal code, more precisely, they are often in­ terpreted contrary to the authors’ inten­ tions, regardless if it is exploitation of the nostal­gic remi­niscence of good old New Wave times or a demonization of the Yu­ goslav socialist regime. Paradoxically, we should bear in mind that history is not an enemy, as the media would have it, sup­ porting the newly-formed idea of cleans­ ing the socie­ty from socialist heri­tage – it is capita­lism that is the enemy which, even more para­doxically, destroys the healthy tissue of the media system as well.

Finally, how to interpret the mal-u­ nited photographs today? By entering a museum, a repository of memory that of­ fers comparative strategies and an alter­ native view. The Malunion exhibition is a sort of homage to the supporting hand of the former MSU curator Davor Matičević, as Posavec calls Matičević’s initiative to acquire and exhibit his and Vesović’s 1985/1988 photographs. It was Matičević’s vision of the unquestion­ able quality of the soft clicking duo that made it possible to ‘musealise’ life pho­ tography, i.e. host the first ever group exhibition of this occasional duo. In the conflict over meaning, the museum be­ comes the place for a possible new oppo­ sitional reading of Posavec and Vesović’s photographic oeuvre, the place of politi­ cal performance where the Hallian bat­ tle of meaning never ends.

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Slađana 1984.

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Postmodernism and the

6

This is a poster signed with

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In his coding/decoding

Postsocialist Condition – Politcized Art under Late Socialism, Aleš Erja­vec (ed.), Ahmanson-Murp­hy Fine Arts Book, Septem­ ber 2003. the MO logo (Meko oki­ danje – Soft Clicking – was the name of the virtu­ al studio, which Posavec and Vesović occasionally signed their photos with).

Together with the cata­ logue for Posavec’s exhi­ bition at the MSU, it was designed by Tom Gotovac in 1985. Three years later, Gotovac also designed the poster and catalogue for Mio Vesović’s photograph exhibition. In Posavec’s words, he and Gotovac used to hang out frequent­ ly in the 1980s erasing the boundaries between per­ formance and documenta­ tion in the process.

model, Stuart Hall distin­ guishes preferred reading, with the audience reading the message in the man­ ner its maker devised it; negotiated reading, when the audience partly agrees with the intended messa­ ge; and oppositio­nal read­ ing, which fully denies the meaning of the message.

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kaži gdje su nestali?

People think far too much about techniques and not enough about seeing.

DEJAN KRŠIĆ

Henri Cartier-Bresson

n

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Željezničar) Untitled (Railway man) 1983.

1

Vidi npr. tekst Damira

Fabija­ni­ć a, u publika­ciji Osamdesete: slatka deka­ dencija postmoderne, ur.

F. Vukić & B. Kostelnik, HDLU, Zagreb 2015.

egdje s početkom 2015. zahvatio nas je novi val retro pogleda u osamdesete, od televizijskih serija, niza izložbi, akcija i performansa, sve do burnih diskusija na društvenim mrežama. Nakon više od dva desetljeća organiziranog zaborava socijalističke prošlosti, ona je najednom postala in, i kao predmet akademskog interesa ali i kao medijski i popkulturni fenomen. Nažalost, u medij­ skom tretmanu događaja i artefakata iz te prošlosti bilo je mnogo površnosti, mistifikacija i izmišljanja vlastite “bolje prošlosti”. Zbog toga nam mnogi od tih medijskih proizvoda o osamdesetima nisu donijeli nikakvu novu spoznaju o onom vremenu. Nažalost, i još gore, ništa nam nisu rekli niti o ovom našem, današnjem.

U takvoj situaciji nastaje, i s njom se suočava, izložba pod naslo­ vom Krivo srastanje – još jednom prepoznatljivom referencom na svijet novovalne glazbe osamdesetih – u koncepciji Leile Topić, ku­ stosice Zbirke fotografija, medijske umjetnosti, filma i videa Muze­ ja suvremene umjetnosti/MSU. Izložba predstavlja izbor iz rado­ va Milisava Vesovića i Ivana Posavca iz prve polovine tih danas često mistificiranih, podjednako slavljenih i kritiziranih osamde­ setih. Od kraja 1970-ih Vesović i Posavec članovi su nefor­malnog studija odnosno autorskog tandema MO (Meko okida­nje). Mada će ubrzo početi surađivati i u drugim medijima (Start, Danas…), pažnju publike i kritike privlače radovima za Polet, pa se i danas uz njih veže pojam tzv. “Poletove škole fotografije”. Poja­­ve za koju neki uvjereno tvrde i da “uopće ne postoji”.1 Upra­vo to nedavno ospo­ ravanje “Poletove fotografije” kao specifičnog fenomena, a koje za sobom povlači i šire pitanje – u koje se ovdje ovom prilikom ipak nećemo upuštati – što se u svijetu umjetno­sti danas uopće sma­ tra “školom” i bitnim, “zajedničkim” karakteristikama, da­­­­je nam šlagvort da se radu Vesovića i Posavca na ovom mjestu približimo upra­vo kroz Polet kao idiosinkratički medij­ski projekt.

Naime, čak i ako se suglasimo da su oko Poleta bili okupljeni raznoliki autori koje ne možemo podvesti pod jedan pris­tup ili stil­ ski izraz – uz Posavca i Vesovića bili su tu i Andrija Zelmanović,

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MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Ljerka 1984.

Šime Strikoman, Siniša Knaflec, Go­ ran Pavelić Pipo, Dražen Kalenić, Da­­ nilo Dučak, ali i “suputnici” Jasmin Krpan, Fedor Vučemilović... – ostaje činjenica koja ih objedinjuje: nesumnji­ va važnost Gorana Trbuljaka kao art di­ rektora i grafičkog urednika. Trbuljako­ vi neposredni uzori u dizajnu i prijelomu novina bili su od Andy Warhol’s Intervie­ wa do progresivnih britanskih glazbenih i američkih filmskih magazina koje je pratio. Promjenu grafičkog dizajna i tre­t­­­­­mana fotografije omogućio je i iznimno važan tehnološki moment: prelazak na ofsetnu rotaciju i fotoslog; ranije, u dizaj­ nu koji je postavio slavni Zoran Pavlović Zozo, Polet je bio tiskan “u olovu”, tehni­ ci visokog tiska u kojoj je izrada klišea bila skupa a tonska slika grubo rastrira­ na. Iz ionako uske ponude tipografskih pisama fotosloga tiskare Vjesnik, Trbu­ ljak je tipografski repertoar sveo na je­ dno sans-serifno pismo (Digi Grotesk), maksimalno smanjio veličinu osnovnog teksta i tako otvorio prostor fotografiji koju je redovito prezentirao s crnim ru­ bom filma, koji je naglašavao autorski “izrez”, kadar uhvaćen upravo u trenu­t­ ku snimanja fotografije. Trbuljak, nara­ v­no, nije izmislio crni rub – ali kako sam kaže, nisu to učinili ni art direktor Warholovog Interviewa niti Henri Car­ tier-Bresson, kojem se obično pripisuje njegovo populariziranje kod fotografija Leica formata. I u hrvatskom kontekstu takav način prezentiranja fotografija bio je uobičajen i u časopisu za fotogra­fiju Spot, koji je od 1972. do 1978. izlazio u izdanju Galerija Grada Zagreba, s dizaj­ nom koji je originalno postavio Mihajlo Arsov­ski a kao grafički urednik realizi­ rao Mi­tja Koman. Uz to što sig­­nalizira “autors­t vo”, netaknutost izvornog kadra, crni rub – baš kao i svaki drugi okvir slike – uvodi i distancu, odnosno signa­ lizira artificijelnost i diskontinui­tet. K tome, crni je rub Trbuljaku osi­gu­ravao konzistentnost proporcija fotografije kroz čitav broj i ti­­me ga oslobađao brige o eventualnom dodatnom kadriranju foto­ grafija. U njegovom interesu i sklonosti prema korištenju fotografije, jasno vi­

dimo i vezu paralelnih Trbu­ljakovih ka­­­­­­­rijera, grafičkog urednika/dizajnera i films­kog snimatelja. U tom je pogle­ du posebno indikativno često korištenje nekoli­ko fotografija istog ili sličnog mo­ tiva, čime se, posebno uz inter­vjue, na­­ glašava filmičnost pri­zora. Otud bi Trbu­ ljakov rad za Polet mogli vidjeti i kao svojevrstan paper mo­vie, film na papiru, sekvencu fotografija koje svojim izmje­ nama, ritmom i kontra­stima motiva aso­ ciraju na filmsku montažu i tako pričaju jednu paralelnu priču neovisno o inten­ cijama autora teks­ta ili urednika. Čak i ako “Poletovu fotografiju” sma­­­­­­­­­­tra­mo površnom, neo­­dre­­­­đenom pa i pre­­ten­­­­­­cioznom odrednicom, teško je os­poriti da je riječ o radovima koji su, s onu stranu pri­­vilegiranja “autorskog”, odre­đeni svo­­jim medijskim konteks­­tom: fotografije pravljene za objavljivanje u no­vinama, često i kao prave re­­­­­porta­ ž­ne fotografije na zajedničkom te­­­ren­­­­­ skom zadatku s novinarima-reporte­­ ri­­­­­­­­ma. U čitanju tih fotografija, lako mo­­­­­­­­žemo locirati nekoliko ključnih mo­­­­­­­­­­­ tiva: radništvo, protagonisti pop kul­ ture u njenim raznim obli­­cima (rock zvijezde, publika), političari, pripadni­ ci omladinskih subkultura, scene s ulice i provođenje slobodnog vremena ... Za Susan Sontag – poslovično neizbježnu referencu kad je riječ o mediju fotogra­ fije – reprodukcija fotografije u knjizi je nezadovoljavajuća slika slike. Fotogra­ fiju bi trebalo gledati “u originalu”, na fotopapiru. Danas za Poletovu fotogra­ fiju Posavca i Vesovića možemo ustvrditi upra­vo suprotno: “originali” su fotografi­ je objav­ljene u svom izvornom medij­ skom kontekstu, novinama, tiskane u ofset rota­ciji na žućkastom novinskom papiru, u izboru i layoutu grafičkog ure­ dnika. Ono što postaje nezadovoljavajući supstitut upravo je njihovo izla­ganje na galerijskom ili muzejskom zidu, daleko od njihovog izvornog novinskog kontek­ sta, bez pratećeg teksta (i kao tipografi­ je, i kao određenog narativa) i konteksta.

U kritičkom govoru o tim fotogra­fi­­­­­ jama integralni dio te dekontekstuali­za­ cije jeste i isticanje fotografske, za­­­­­­­­­­­­nat­ske

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Pjevačica) Untitled (Female singer) 1981.

14

kvalitete, “autorstva u doku­men­­­­­tarnoj fotografiji”, odnosno nagla­ša­vanje for­ malnih i tehničkih aspekata poput vještog kadriranja, korištenja kontrasta, svjetla i sjene, ili određenog tipa objekti­ va, a potiskivanje njihovog značenja. Ta­ kav pristup pothranjuje ilu­ziju da postoji neka “prava”, izvor­na, potpuno obje­ ktivna fotografija, ona koja prije svega dokumentira a tek onda (ako uopće) ko­ mentira – prema tom mišljenju policijske fotografije krimina­laca (“mug shots”) i mjesta zločina bile bi “nulti stupanj” fotografije. Pretpo­stavka da uopće pos­toji dokumentarna fotografija koja istodo­ bno nije i “autorski” komentar samo za­ kriva nereflektirani i neosviješteni odnos prema ovom mediju. Stav koji privilegi­ ra “autorstvo” dok dokumentarističku ulogu/funkciju određuje isključivo inten­ cijom, svrhom i kontekstom fotografije, zaboravlja či­­njenicu da je sama pozicija “autora” pri­­je svega rezultat određenog položaja fo­­­­­tografa i njegovog rada unu­ tar organizacije sustava proizvod­nje i distribuci­je, te njima pripadajuće ideo­ logije. Nakon brojnih autora koji su upo­ zorili da je “rea­li­­zam”, odnosno “do­­ku­ mentaristički” ka­­­rakter fotografije tek ideološki efekt, znamo da fotografija ne prikazuje, ne po­navlja, ne re-prezentira neku izvanj­sku stvar­nost koja se, eto, ne­ kim sretnim slu­­čajem “stvarno” (“objek­ tivno”) nalazi isped objektiva; ona – kao, uostalom, i drugi mediji – konstruira stvarnost. Čak i kad nema direktnog in­ sceniranja, namještanja i režiranja prizo­ ra (za što su često optuživali i slavne fo­ to-reportere poput Roberta Cape), sam proces fotografiranja uključuje niz odlu­ ka i izbora: tehnike, formata, odabira motiva, rakursa, kadriranja, osvjetlje­nja, ekspozicije, oštrine i sl., pri čemu svaki od tih eleme­­nata u odnosu prema dru­ gima stvara određena značenja.

Otud fotografija, ako i nije imanentno “dokumentarna” i “dokumentaristička”, u svakom slučaju jest dokument: doku­ ment vremena, svjedočanstvo o poziciji (možemo reći i “očištu”) autora, medija i društva u kojem nastaje. Ono što nam je na fotografijama zanimljivo nije samo

činjenica da na njima vidimo nešto što se u nekom prošlom trenu­ tku stjecajem okolnosti zateklo ispred objekti­va, nego nam upravo fotografija kao dokument pokazuje, možemo možda reći i forenzički svjedoči što je u tom vremenu bilo moguće, što je bilo “vidljivo”, što je fotografija činila vidljivim, odnosno, još više: što je uopće bilo zamislivo! Tako nas i današnji pogled na Vesovićeve i Posavčeve “reportažne” fotografije s početka osamdesetih suočava s temeljnim, pa i traumatičnim i duboko političkim pitanjem: što je onda, u tom vremenu, u jugoslavenskoj državi, u tom socijalističkom poretku, bilo moguće vidjeti i prikazati? Što je bilo zamislivo? Upravo to nas onda nužno vodi kritičkoj refle­k siji i o našem današnjem vre­ menu: zašto su, sada i ovdje, u dome­ni medija i medijske fotografi­ je te i slične stvari danas izvan po­lja vidljivog? Zašto su danas ne tek nemoguće, nego i nezamislive?

No, umjesto analiza odnosa vidljivog i nevidljivog u medijskoj politici u socijalizmu, danas nam se najčešće serviraju reinterpre­ tacije koje tu politiku svode na jednostavnu opoziciju režimskog i antirežimskog. U toj optici, uređivačka politika Poleta – podsjeti­ mo se, službenog glasila Saveza socijalističke omladine Hrvatske – nekritički je proglašena maltene disidentskom: “demontira­njem države” i antisocijalističkom predvodnicom nacionalne suve­renosti, državotvornosti, parlamentarne demokracije, tržišne ekonomi­ je, i ostalih ključnih ideologema postsocijalizma. Prema takvim tumačenjima, Polet je bio ništa manje nego antirežimski eks­ces.

Dovoljno je sjetiti se čuvenog skandala s fotografijama Dinamovog golmana Milana Šarovića u bazenu: nije li čak i prividno žovijalna obnaženost nogometaša bila provokacija adresirana na “najsvetije” društveno-političke vrijednosti i norme, koje su i onda, kao i da­ nas, bile otjelovljene u zdravim, muževnim tijelima sportaša? Ali, suprotno takvim, danas gotovo dominantnim i medijski sponzo­ riranim tumačenjima, taj skandal nije bio nikakav poseban ispad neke izuzetno hrabre redakcije, nego jedan od priloga koji svjedoče o decenijskom kontinuitetu rušenja različitih tabua – posebno onih nepisanih zabrana o granicama govora i prikazavanja u ja­v­noj sferi – na stranicama jugoslavenskog omladinskog i student­ s­kog tiska (Omladinski tjednik, Polet, Pop Express, Studentski list, Tribuna, Mladina). Da bi se ispitala istinska specifičnost njihove uređivačke politike, mora se odbaciti binarnost “liberalni mediji i hrabri urednici versus totalitarni režim” koja zakriljuje protuslo­­­­­­­v­­lja jugoslavenskog socijalizma osamdesetih iz kojih i dalje možemo izvući određene pouke.

Pozabavimo se u ovoj analizi dvama istaknutim i na prvi po­ gled nespojivim foto-motivima sa stranica Poleta, koji su prisu­ tni i na izložbi Krivo srastanje: slike “radnih ljudi” i erotika. Broj­ ni Posavčevi i Vesovićevi portreti radnih ljudi, radnica i radnika, direktna su medijska, dakle politička, intervencija u jedno od ključnih protuslovlja socijalističkog društva: između, s jedne strane, prisutnosti radnika na deklarativnoj ravni samoupravne, radničke države, kontinuiranog simboličkog pozivanja na rad i “radne lju­ de”, i, na drugoj strani, efektivne isključenosti radnica i radnika iz procesa političkog odlučivanja i ekonomskog upravljanja (u ko­ jima se, slikom iz žižekijanskog vica, “radnici samoupravljači voze

u mercedesima preko svojih predstavnika”). Potcrtavajući taj anta­ gonizam melankoličnom, neherojskom atmosferom, Vesovićeve i Posavčeve fotografije – mahom sredovječnih muških radnika – nisu tek svjedočanstva o nekoj “sivoj” realnosti radnih ljudi, drugom licu odnosno prikrivenom naličju svako­dnevice društva samo­uprav­ nog socija­lizma, nego prije svega dokaz o tome da “radni ljudi” uopće postoje i da su (još uvijek) bili vrijedni pažnje čitateljstva,

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Rukavica) Untitled (A glove) 1982.

posebno publike jednog omladins­kog časopisa. Ne smijemo zaboraviti ni kon­ kretan društveni kontekst: upravo to su godi­­ne provedbe takozvane Šuvarove ������������ re­ ��� forme srednjoškolskog obrazovanja, ute­ meljene na ideji smanji­vanja klasičnih građanskih razlika između tradicional­

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nog pro­izvodnog i intelektualnog rada. Fotografije radnika objav­ ljene u omladinskom tisku neka su vrsta “reprezentacij­ske” reha­ bilitacije radništva koje na taj način stječe vidljivost pa i određeni dignitet, posebno u očima mlade publike.

Paralela s današnjim kontekstom razotkriva da medij novinske fotografije ovdje i sada de facto ne priznaje postojanje radnih ljudi. Štoviše, medijske politike i dominantni način medijske reprezen­ tacije čine ih nepostojećim, nevidljivim. U izboru medijskih motiva egzistencija radnica i radnika nije više zanimljiva tema, s iznimkom njihove hegemonijske reprezentacije: kada su već dotjerani na sam rub egizstencije, neplaćeni, poniženi i otpušteni, dok se očajnički i uglavnom neuspješno pokušavaju izboriti za radna mjesta ili plaću. Same po sebi, čak bi i takve fotografije možda mogli čitati kao potporu borbi za radnička prava, kad svi drugi elementi poli­ tike reprezentacije – izbor tema, sadržaj tekstova, njihova oprema, pozicioniranje u strukturi novina ili stranice – ne bi jasno govorili suprotno. Današnji mainstream mediji podržavaju radničku borbu samo u onim situacijama i u onoj mjeri u kojoj je mogu prekodira­ ti iz klasnog u nacionalno i etničko pitanje. Takva medijska poli­ tika pokazatelj je opće ideološke situacije u kojoj su klasna pitanja zamijenjena pitanjima identiteta, i u kojoj čak i nominalno lijeva, socijaldemokratska stranka, zapostavlja radništvo, prepuštajući ga u njihovom nezadovoljstvu desničarskim populističkim politikama.

Na stranicama omladinskog tiska fotografije radnika dolaze u svojevrsan kratki spoj s fotografijama obnaženih tijela. Često, riječ je o fotografijama zgodnih i hrabrih gradskih cura koje su bile voljne (polu)obnažene pozirati za novinske fotografije, bez ikakvih ispri­ ka i snova o karijeri ali i bez zazora od optužbi malograđanske sre­ dine. Upravo takve fotografije danas se često kritiziraju kao oblik soft eksploatacije žena za potrebe tržišnog uspjeha medija. Tako i je­ dan od uobičajenih prigovora tome što se naziva “Poletovom školom fotografije” glasi da je riječ isključivo o muškarcima-fotografima, dok su žene svedene na objekte njihovih pogleda. Prvi dio tvr­­­d­­ nje nesumnjivo je materijalno istinit. Izuzevši u starijoj gene­raciji Mariju Braut, snažna pojava fotografkinja u Hrvatskoj javlja se tek sredinom 1990-ih, i to prvenstveno na sceni nezavisnih medi­ ja, kao svojevrsan nusproizvod edukacije na tada novopokrenu­ tom studiju dizajna. Ivana Vučić, Mare Milin i Barbara Blasin u početku objavljuju u Arkzinu, gdje je dominacija fotografkinja bila tako upadljiva da im je priljepljen i neformalni žovijalni naziv AFŽ – Arkzinovih Foto Žena. Međutim, same fotografije objav­lji­vane u Poletu (ali i Studentskom listu, kao i ostatku omladin­­s­kog i stu­ dentskog tiska) ne potvrđuju nužno tezu o podređenom društvenom položaju žena u jugoslavenskom socijalizmu. Nesumnjivo daleko od idealne, rodna je ravnopravnost postojala barem na normativnom nivou koji je određene standarde u statusu žena uzimao kao ne­

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Ljubljana I 1984.

upitne. Nasuprot tome, pritisci retradi­ cionalizacije, s kakvima se kontinuirano suočavamo proteklih 25 godina, i te su teško dosegnute standarde doveli u pita­ nje, pri čemu pri čemu veliki broj medija, uključujući i one najutjecajnije (bilo da je riječ o privatnim ili javnim, elektron­ skim ili tiskanim medijima), takve ten­ dencije najčešće podupiru i reproduci­ raju. Naravno, dobro je poznato da je upravo dio Poletovih urednika i novina­ ra, posebno onih koji proteklih godina grade mit upravo oko te jedne faze Po­ leta, zaslužan za tabloidizaciju domaćih medija – od početne insti­tucionalizacije u Startu sredinom osamdesetih do buja­ nja tabloida u ratnom okruženju 90-ih.

Tvrdnju da jugoslavensko društvo u doba socijalizma nije bilo ni konzervativ­ no, niti puritansko potvrđuje i činjenica da erotika na stranicama Poleta nije bila utjelovljena isključivo u ženskim tijeli­ ma. “Skandal Šarović” samo je najspekta­ kularniji podsjetnik na to, no ništa ma­nje značajne nisu ni fotografije koje upućuju

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (“Na Džamiji”) Untitled (At “Džamija”) 1978.

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MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Iz ciklusa “Za Rexa” From the series “To Rex” 1983.

na erotičnost djece (Posavčeve djevojčice koje na umjetničkoj ma­ nifestaciji Od vječnosti do kiča, u Tkalčićevoj ulici iz 1981. podižu svoje suknjice i pokazuju gaćice ili Vesovićev ci­k lus Za Rexa, obnaženi dječak s buketom cvijeća). Takve slike danas su neza­ mislive u medijskom imaginariju: njihovo objavljivanje teško da bi prošlo bez moralne panike, optužbi za pedofiliju i reakcija Pravo­ braniteljice za djecu. Čak i unutar galerij­skog konteksta takve foto­ grafije danas postaju problematične i pomalo zazorne. Uostalom, sjetimo se da je krajem istih tih osamdesetih u Americi pod izgo­ vorom borbe protiv zlostavljanja djece potpaljena moralna panika oko Mapplet­horpeovih fotografija.

Na stranicama Poleta nailazimo i na fotografije anonimnih mladića – tijela bez lica – iz ljubljanskog gay kluba. To nije samo dokument postojanja homoseksualne i transvestitske scene, nego prije svega dokument medijskog trenutka u kome je još bilo moguće da se takve scene pojave na stranicama tiska bez tabloidnog tre­ tmana kakav će postati norma proteklih desetljeća, s nužnim nad­ naslovima u stilu Skandalozno i s obavezna tri uskličnika. Oso­be na tim fotografijama nisu žrtve tabloida, nisu nemoćne, one poziraju svjesne prisutnosti i uloge objektiva kamere. Naglašena seksual­nost je prije svega poza, teatralizacija svakodnevnog života koja odli­kuje subkulturne stilove osamdesetih.

Nasuprot tome, djelomični ženski aktovi uglavnom su za­­ču­đu­ juće deseksualizirani. Mada u tim poluportretima-poluaktovima mladih žena povremeno vidimo neku obnaženu dojku, naglasak je na licu, pogledu, najčešće pomalo ironičnom osmjehu. Riječ je o onoj istoj provokativnoj gesti adresiranoj (malo)građanskoj publi­ ci koju u generacijski ključnom filmu tih godina, Splavu Meduze režisera Karpa Godine i scenarista Branka Vučićevića (Viba film & RTV Beograd, 1980), na javnom nastupu avangardističke trupe – montirane kao evokacije zenitista i jugoslavenskih dadaista – negdje u balkanskoj provinciji izvodi bivša učiteljica Lji­ljana (u izvedbi Vla­ dice Milosavljević). Gesti koja se proteklih godina pod hashtagom #FreeTheNipple proširila svijetom digitalnih društvenih mreža, kao protest protiv medijske hipokrizije u prika­zivanju ženskog tijela i politike cenzuriranja (posebno na Facebooku), te za izmjenu zako­ na koji zabranjuju dojenje na jav­nim mjestima.

Upravo te fotografije muških i ženskih “artista i modela” jasno svjedoče i o specifičnom, često zapostavljenom, pa i potisnutom, aspek­tu takozvanih “osamdesetih”, a koji je u popularnu kulturu (od punka i tzv. novog vala, preko novog romantizma do kasnije gothic i dark scene) došao iz tada aktualnog interesa i ponovnog otkriva­ nja povijesnih avangardi. To je teatralizacija svakodnevnog života i snažno naglašavanje simboličke uloge odjeće, bilo kao punker­ ske “nošnje” ili novoromantičarskog “kostima”, laibachovske uni­ forme ili androginog i transvestitskog unošenja šuma u usta­ljeno rodno kodiranje. Taj isti aspekt teatra­lizacije, performansa, pa i spektakulari­zacije svakodnevice, možemo jasno vi­­­dje­­ti i u foto­ grafijama posredovanim performansima Toma Gotovca, koji su također objavljivani i medijski promovirani baš u Poletu i Student­ skom listu. Premda i oni veoma često uključuju nagost, “golotinju”, Gotovčeve performanse u javnom prostoru (za razliku od nekih

specifično izvođenih za objektiv filmske kamere ili fotoaparata) također odliku­ je odsustvo seksualnosti.

Stoga su potpuno promašene i naivne stare teze radikalnih američkih femi­­­nis­ tki­nja o javnoj prisutnosti “pornografije”2 u jugoslavenskom društvu kao “pripre­ me terena” za ratna silovanja 1990-ih.

In­dikativno, prve žrtve organiziranog konzervativnog protuudara ranih 1990ih bile su upravo razne slobodoumne publikacije, od omladinskog tiska, preko političkih magazina Start i Danas, do raznih erotsko-pornografskih revija (pu­ blikacija u izdanju velikih izdavačkih ku­ ća, koje su se tada otvoreno prodavale na kioscima). Njihovim gašenjem se, me­­ đu­­­­­tim, položaj žena ni u kojem aspek­tu nije popravio, naprotiv. Među najvećim žrtvama postsocijalističke tranzicije bile su upravo žene, od privatizacije koja je posebno pogodila radnice tradicional­ no “ženskih” industrija, do raznih obli­­­­­­­­­k a repatrijar­halizacije i klerikalne rekonkviste ispod čije su “moralne” lju­ ske bujali različiti oblici institucional­ no tolerirane prostitucije pod kontrolom organiziranog kriminala, kao i svesr­dno promovirana trivijalna medijska kul­ tura tzv. celebrityja, “sisa i guzica”. Tek s postsocijalističkom retradicionalizacij­­­om do krajnosti je doveden – medij­ski pro­ izveden i promoviran – shizofreni mo­ del žene-majke-kraljice, koja je “i sve­tica i kurva – sve po potrebi”.

To nas upućuje i na još jedno suo­č a­ vanje s medijski raširenim mitom. Naša današnja opsesija novovalnom scenom osamdesetih nije samo žal za izgublje­ nom mladošću nego se kontinuirano veže uz jadikovku zašto takve, kako joj vole tepa­ti “urbane”, scene nema da­nas, pa se lak izlaz iz tog problema nalazi u sinta­gmi “poseljačenja” i prona­lasku žrtvenih jaraca (“narodnjaci”, “turbofolk”, “caj­ke”). Danas nemamo scenu ne zato što ne bi bilo dobrih glazbenika, bendova, klubova, umjetni­k a, što mla­ di ne sjede u nekim drugim Zvečkama, nego zato što ne postoje mediji koji bi tu drugu scenu artikulirali kao scenu. Kad mainstream mediji povremeno pokušaju

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (U gostioni) Untitled (In a pub) 1982.

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Pornografiju ovdje stavljam pod navo­ dnike, jer su ove kri­tičarke prvenstveno referirale na magazin Start koji nikad nije izašao izvan okvira soft erotike.

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nešto slično – kao što je bio slučaj s FAK-om – vrlo brzo se po­kažu jasne unaprijed postavljene granice takve akcije i sve razotkri­je kao puki pokušaj tržišne manipulacije. K tome, jasno je da “tur­ bo-folk” ili “kultura cajki”, ni­je nikakav spontani, autohtoni gras­ roots pokret, nego je isto tako proizvod medijske indu­strije koga promoviraju i podržavaju upravo ti “naši urba­ni dečki”, urednici i medij­ski tajkuni. Postoji jasna politika ne samo što, nego i kako se prikazuje. Činjenicu da su na tim fotografijama i novinskim stranicama iz kasnih 70-ih i ranih 80-ih, na isti način tretirani i ano­nimni radnici i pripadnici subkulturne scene i rock zvijezde možemo vidjeti i kao materijalni dokument trenutka u kojem industrija i post-industrija još opstoje zajedno. Ono što te fotografije, kao i sami mediji u kojima se originalno pojavljuju, signaliziraju jeste prije svega taj pomak iz moderne u postmodernu, s industrijske logike organizacije društva u postindustrijsku, fordizma u post-for­­­­dizam. Time materijalno svje­ doče da ti procesi nisu jednostavno vezani za deindustrijalizaciju tranzicijskih de­vedesetih, nego su se već odvijali i du­bo­­­­­ko u vremenu u kojem se društvo još uvi­­jek naziva socijalističkim.

Dok umornim, sjetnim, možemo reći i deziluzioniranim, uglav­­nom sredovječnim muškim radnicima pripada svijet lagano propadajuće industrijske proizvodnje, tim mladim ženama – kao i muškarcima poput ���������������������������������������������� Šarovića�������������������������������������� i novovalnih rock glazbenika – pripa­ da tada još novi i optimističan svijet medija, spektakla, svega ono­ ga što nazivamo postindustrijskom proizvodnjom. Gledajući da­ nas te fotografije, moramo se zapitati ne gdje je nestalo radništvo (to, nažalost, znamo), ili gdje su i što danas rade te zvijezde, nego, prije svega, gdje je nestao taj optimizam, ta (naivna?) vjera da će bu­dućnost postindustrijskog, postmodernog svijeta biti isključivo svijetla? U medijima se danas tek sporadično i gotovo slučajno poja­ v­­ljuju fotografije koje bi nam prikazujući sadašnjost tih već osta­r­ je­lih djevojaka i mladića ponudile odgovore na ta pitanja. Ne zato što u današnjim medijima fotografije uopće ne bi bilo, nego zato što medijska i urednička politika – u kojoj tabloidno skandaliziranje i dociranje kolumnista i opinion-makera, predstavljaju dva lica is­ tog moralizirajućeg stava koji odlikuje sve konzervativne politike – strukturno više ne dopušta takav pogled. “Poletovska” fotografi­ ja izbacila je i zamijenila ilustraciju kao komentar, a danas u ti­­­s­ ka­­­­­­nim medijima nema više ni ilustracije niti “reportažne”, “autor­ ske”, fotografije. Izvor slikovnog materijala su uglavnom različite stock agencije. U trenutku kad svaka zvjezdica željna medijske slave stavlja svoje “provokativne” slike na Facebook i Instagram, i medi­

ji to prenose, čak i tabloidni paparazzi gube svoju ulogu.

Teorija je davno ustvrdila da u foto­ grafiji kao mediju ima nešto opsceno, imanentno pornografsko. Suvremeno društvo nema pro­blema s opscenošću selfija, za današnji pogled, neoliberalnu imagi­naciju, opscen je upravo taj ima­ nentni dignitet svakodnevice, običnog.

Stoga je u današnjem režimu medija nemoguće – nemi­slivo – prikazati i radni­ ke, djecu, obnažene žene i muškarce, na način koji bi im pružao dignitet. I to je paradoks s kojim se suvremeno hrvat­sko, kao i druga postsocijalistička društva, teško nosi: da je u svojim oblicima cen­ zure navodno slobodno tržište liberal­nog i demokrats­kog društva puno efikasni­ je od navodno totalitarnog socijalizma.

Literatura: Walter Benjamin: “Umjetničko djelo u doba svoje tehničke repro­dukcije”, u Uz kritiku sile, Razlog, Zagreb 1971; Eseji, Nolit, Beo­ grad 1974.

Peter Burke: Očevid. Upotreba slike kao po­ vijesnog dokaza, Antibarbarus, Zagreb 2003.

Ješa Denegri: “Fotografija - predodžba ili jezik”, Spot br. 7, Galerije grada Zagreba, Zagreb 1975.

Susan Sontag: On Photography, 1972.

Vilém Flusser: Towards a Philosophy of Pho­ tography, Reaktion Books 2000.

Za savjete, drugarsku kritiku i svesrdnu po­­ moć u nastanku ovog teksta zahvaljujem Ne­­­bojši Jovanoviću i Borislavu Mikuliću.

tell us, where they’ve gone?

DEJAN KRŠIĆ

People think far too much about techniques and not enough about seeing.

Henri Cartier-Bresson

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See, for instan­ce, Damir Fabijanić’s text pu­bli­ shed in Osamdesete: slatka dekadenci­ja postmo­derne, eds. F. Vukić and B. Kostelnik, HDLU, Zagreb, 2015

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omewhere around the beginning of 2015 we were caught in a new surge of a retro view on the 1980s, from TV serials, exhibitions, actions and performan­ ces, all through heated discussions on social networks.

After more than two decades of organised oblivion of the socialist past, suddenly it became trendy, both as a subject of academic interest and as a media and pop-cultural phenomenon.

Alas, in the media this event and the artefacts from the past were represented quite superficially, garni­shed with mystifications and fabrications of other ‘better pasts’. This is the reason why many of these 80s-based media products did not generate a single new insight on the era. Unfortunately, and even worse, they also said nothing about this new era, the one we live today.

This is the situation that engendered and is confronted by the exhibition named ‘Malunion’ – another recognisable reference to the world of the 1980s Yugoslav and Croatian new wave music – curated

by Leila Topić, curator at the Collection of Photography, Media Art, Film and Video of the Museum of Contemporary Art (MSU). The exhibition is presenting a selection of works by Milisav Vesović and Ivan Posavec from the first half of these often mystified, equally glorified and criticised 1980s. In the late 1970s, Vesović and Posavec were members of the informal studio, i.e. authors tandem called MO (Meko okidanje – Soft Clicking). Although they soon began collaborating in other magazines (Start, Danas etc.), they attrac­ ted the attention of the public and critics with their works made for youth magazine Polet, which is why they are still related to the term of the so-called ‘Polet School of Photography’. The occur­rence some adamantly claim does not even exist.1 It is precisely this recent contestation of ‘the Polet photography’ as a specific phenomenon, which also could bring us to a broader issue – that nevertheless will not be delved into now – what is in the art world of today even considered ‘a school’ and what are relevant, ‘common’ traits, that is a drumroll for approaching Vesović and Posavec here precisely through Polet as an idiosyncratic media project.

Even if we agree that Polet gathered different authors that can­ not be reduced to a single approach or stylistic expression – next to Posavec and Vesović there were also Andrija Zelmanović, Šime Strikoman, Siniša Knaflec, Goran Pavelić Pipo, Dražen Kalenić, Danilo Dučak, as well as their ‘fellow travellers’ Jasmin Krpan, Fedor Vučemilović etc., a fact remains that brings them all together: the uncontested importance of Goran Trbuljak as art director and graphic designer. Trbuljak’s immediate role models in magazine

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design and layout ranged from Andy Warhol’s Interview to pro­ gressive British music and American film magazines he read. The change in graphic design and photography treatment was made possible thanks to an extremely significant technological step: the switch to offset rotation and photosetting; previously, in the design of the famous Zoran Pavlović Zozo, Polet was printed ‘in lead’, a letterpress technique with expensive stereotype plates and rough halftone screen. The typographic library, selection of type­ faces, fonts in Vjesnik’s photosetting system was scanty to begin with, and Trbuljak reduced the typographic reper­tory to only one sans-serif font (Digit Grotesk), shrank the basic text size as much as possible, and thus opened up a space for photography, which he regularly presented with black photo stock border that accentuated the authorial ‘cut’, a shot caught precisely at the moment of click­ ing. Trbuljak, naturally, did not invent the black frame – but, as he himself says, neither did the art director of Warhol’s Interview, nor Henri Cartier-Bresson, to whom its popularisation with Leica format photographs is usually attributed. In the Croatian context as well, such method of presenting photographs was also common in the photography magazine Spot, pu­blished between 1972 and 1978 by Zagreb City Galleries, originally designed by Mihajlo Arsovski and later by graphic editor Mitja Koman. In addition to symbolising ‘authorial approach’, the pristine original shot, the black border, just like any other frame, also introduces a distance, i.e. indicates artificiality and discontinuity. Also, the black border helped Trbuljak to maintain a consistence of photograph propor­ tions throughout the entire issue and liberated him from worries about possible additional editing and cropping of the images. His interest and leaning towards the use of photography clearly demon­ strates the connection between Trbuljak’s parallel careers, that of a graphics editor/designer and that of a cinematographer. In this sense, one particularly telling fact is the frequent use of several photographs of the same or similar motif, which accentuates the filmic traits of a scene, especially with interviews. Hence, Trbuljak’s Polet work might be interpreted as a kind of paper movie, a film on paper, a sequence of photographs whose exchanges, rhythm and contrasts of motifs remind of film edi­ting and tell a parallel tale, independently of the text author’s or magazine editor’s intentions.

But even if we considered ‘the Polet photography’ a superficial, indefinite, even pretentious determinant, it is hard to contest that these works are, beyond the privileged ‘authorial’, determined by their media context: photographs made for newspaper publi­shing, often as real news cover photos on a common field task with journa­ lists/reporters. Reading these photos one can easily track down seve­ ral key motifs: working class, envoys of pop culture in its different forms (rock stars, audience), politicians, youth subculture members, street scenes and leisure time. To Susan Sontag – a proverbially inevitable reference when it comes to the photography medium – a reproduction of a photograph in a book is an unsatisfactory picture of a picture. A photograph should be seen in its original form, on photo paper. Today, for the Polet photography of Posavec and Vesović we could claim the opposite: the ‘originals’ are the photo­

graphs publi­shed in their original me­ dia context, in the newspapers, printed in offset rotation on a rough yellowish newspaper, in the selection and layout of the graphics editor. What becomes the unsatisfa­­ctory substitute is precisely their display on a gallery or museum wall, far from their ori­ginal newspaper context, without accom­panying text (both as typography and as a certain narrative) and context.

In a critical discourse about these pho­­tographs, the integral part of con­ tem­­­porary decontextualisation is high­ lighting the photographic, craftsman quality, ‘authorship in documentary pho­tography’, i.e. accentuating the for­ mal and technical aspects such as skilful shot framing, use of contrasts, light and shadow, or a certain type of lens, and supressing their meaning. Such an ap­ proach feeds the illusion that there is a ‘real’, original, completely objective pho­ tography, the one that primarily docu­ ments and only later (if ever) comments – according to this, mug shots and crime scenes would make the ‘level zero’ of photography. The assumption that there is documentary photography in the first place, which is not at the same time an ‘authorial’ comment, only obscu­res the unreflected and unaware view of this medium. An opinion privileging ‘author­ ship’ and at the same time determining the documentary role/function only with the intention, purpose and context of photography, is oblivious to the fact that the very position of ‘author’ is first of all a result of a certain position of the photo­ grapher and his work in an organised sys­ tem of production and distribution and the accompanying ideology. Following the many authors who forewarned that ‘realism’, i.e. photo­graphy’s ‘documen­ tary’ character is but an ideological ef­ fect, we know that a pho­tograph does not portray, repeat or re-present an external reality which by a happy chance ‘actu­ ally’ (‘objectively’) found itself before a lens; it constructs reality – just like other media, as well. Even when there is no direct staging, setting and orchestrating

a scene (of which even famous photo-reporters like Robert Capa were often accused), the very process of photographing includes a series of decisions and choices: technique, format, choice of motif, angle, framing, light, exposure, sharpness etc., and each of these elements in relation to the others creates certain meanings.

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Ženska stražnjica) Untitled (Woman’s behind) 1980.

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This is why photography, albeit not immanently ‘documentary’ or ‘do­cu­ men­­tarian’, is by all means a document: a document of time, a testimony to the po­ sition (one could say the ‘point of view’) of the author, media and the society it is made in. What is interesting in the photographs is not only the fact that in them we see something that accidentally in a past moment appeared before the lens. Rather, a photograph as a docu­ ment demonstrates, perhaps we could even say forensically testifies to what was possible at the given moment, what was ‘visible’, what the photograph made visi­­b­le­, or even more: what was imaginable in the first place. Looking at Vesović and Posavec’s early ‘80s photographs from today’s point of view confronts us with the elementary, even traumatic and pro­ foundly political question: what could then, at that point in time, in the state of Yugoslavia, in that socialist system, be seen and portrayed? What was imagin­ able? This is what inevitably leads us to critical reflection about our own era too: why are, here and now, in the field of media and media photography, these and similar things below the visibility radar?

Why are they today not only impossible, but also unimaginable?

However, instead of analyses of the visible vs. the invisible dicho­tomy in the socialist media policy, today we are most often served reinterpretations that reduce this policy to the simple opposi­ tion of the regime vs. the anti-regime.

In this perspective, the editorial policy of Polet – again, the official gazette of the Croatian Socialist Youth Association – was uncritically described as almost dissident: as ‘dismantling the state’ and as an anti-socialist pioneer of national sovereignty, autonomy, parliamentary democracy, market economy, and other key ideology emblems of post-socialism.

According to such interpretations, Polet was no less than an anti-regime incident.

One should only remember the famous scandal with the Dinamo goalkeeper Milan Šarović’s photos in a swimming pool: was the football player’s seemingly

cheerful nudity not a provocation addressed to the ‘holiest’ sociopolitical values and norms which were then, just like today, embo­ died in athletes’ healthy, manly bodies? Nevertheless, opposing such, today almost dominant and media-sponsored, interpretations, this scandal was no special outrage of a particularly courageous edito­ rial board, but one of the events testifying to the long decades of breaking different taboos – espe­cially those unwritten bans referring to freedom of speech and representation in the public sphere – on the pages of Yugoslavian youth and student press (Omladinski tjednik, Polet, Pop Express, Studentski list, Tribuna, Mladina). In order to examine the true idiosyncrasy of their editorial policy, one must abandon the ‘liberal media and brave editors vs. totalitarian regime’ binary opposition, which obscures the contradictions of the Yugoslavian socialism in the 1980s, from which we can still draw certain messages.

In this analysis, let us focus on two prominent and at first sight disparate photo-motifs from the pages of Polet, present at the ‘Malunion’ exhibition: the pictures of ‘working people’ and erotica.

Posavec and Vesović’s countless portraits of working people, male and female workers, are a direct media, i.e. political, intervention into one of the crucial contradictions of the socialist society: on one side the presence of workers on the assertive level of self-government, worker’s state, continuous symbolic appealing to work and ‘work­ ing people’, and effective exclusion of workers from the process of political decision-making and economic governing (in which, like in a Žižekian joke, ‘self-governing workers ride in Mercedeses through their representatives’) on the other. Underlining this antagonism with a melancholy, unheroic atmosphere, Vesović and Posavec’s photographs – mainly of middle-aged male workers – are not only testimonies to a ‘grey’ reality of the working class, a another side or a masked flipside of the self-governing socialist society’s daily life, but rather a proof that ‘working people’ actually exist and that they are (still) worthy of the readers’ attention, especially the readers of a youth magazine. We should also not lose sight of the specific social context: these were the years of the implementation of the so-called Šuvar reform of high school education, based on the idea of redu­ cing the classic bourgeois differences between traditional industrial and intellectual work. The photographs of workers published in the youth press are a kind of ‘representational’ rehabilitation of the working class which thus gains visibility and certain dignity, especially in the eyes of a younger audience.

A parallel with today’s context reveals that the news photograp­hy medium here and now in fact does not acknowledge the existence of working people any more. Moreover, media policies and dominant methods of media representation make them inexistent, invisible.

In selecting motifs for the media, the lives of workers are no longer an interesting topic, with the exception of their hegemonic repre­ sentation: pushed to the very limit of existence, unpaid, humiliated and made redundant, trying desperately and mostly unsuccessfully to fight for their jobs or pay. Even such photographs, per se, could be read as support to the struggle for workers’ rights if all other elements of political representation – the choice of topics, the

content of texts, their layout, positio­ ning in the structure of a newspaper or page – would not speak otherwise. To­ day’s mainstream media support workers’ fight only in those situations and to such extent when they can re-code it from a class-related issues to a national and ethnic issue. Such media policy indicates the general ideological situation in which class matters are substituted with the issues of identity, where even the theore­ tically leftist, social-democratic party, neglects the working class, abandoning it in its dissatisfaction to rightist populist policies.

On the pages of youth press, the pho­­­tographs of workers create a certain short circuit with the photographs of nude bodies. Often these are the pictu­ res of good looking and brave city girls who were willing to pose (semi-)nude for newspapers, without excuses or dreams of a career, but also without fear of accu­ sations from the petit-bourgeois environ­ ment. It is these photographs that are to­ day frequently criticised for being a form of women’s soft exploitation for the needs of the market success of the medium.

One of the usual objections to what is called the ‘Polet School of Photography’ is that it includes only male photograp­ hers, and that women are reduced to the object of their sight. The first part is absolutely and undoubtedly accurate and true. With the exception of Marija Braut in the older generation, a powerful female photographers in Croatia appe­­a­­ red only in the mid-1990s, primarily on the independent media scene as a sort of by-product of education at the newly launched university course in design.

Ivana Vučić, Mare Milin and Barbara Blasin initially published their works in Arkzin, where female photographers’ domination was so conspicuous that it was informally and jokingly nicknamed AFŽ – Arkzinove Foto Žene (Arkzin’s Photo Women, but acronim was also re­ fe­­­­rence to the womans organisation du­ ring People’s liberation struggle - NOB).

However, the photographs published in Polet (but also in Studentski list, as well

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Štafeta) Untitled (Relay) 1983.

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Invalidi na paradi) Untitled (Invalids on parade) 1981.

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Reanimacija Tkalčićeve) Untitled (Reanimation of Tklačićeva Street) 1981.

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Johnny B. Štulić) Untitled (Johnny B. Štulić) 1981.

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as the rest of youth and student press) do not necessarily confirm the hypothesis of the subordinate social position of women in Yugoslavian socialism. Undoubtedly away from ideal, gender equality existed at least on the theoretical level which took certain standards regarding the status of women at face value. Contrary to this, the pressures of re-traditionalisa­ tion, which we have been continually fa­ cing in the past 25 years, threatened these hard won standards and a large number of media, including the most influential ones (be it private or public, electronic or printed) most frequently supported and reproduced such tendencies. Of course, it is a well-known fact that it was some of Polet’s editors and journalists, especially those building a myth around one stage of Polet’s life, who are responsible for the tabloidization of local media – from the initial institutionalisation with Start magazine in the mid-1980s to the blos­ som of tabloids in the wartime 1990s.

The assertion that Yugoslavian society in the socialist era was neither conserva­ tive nor puritan is backed by the fact that nudity and erotica on the pages of Polet were not represented only with female bodies. The ‘Šarović scandal’ is only the most spectacular example, but no less im­ portant are the photographs which point to the eroticism of children (Posavec’s little girls in a city event in 1981, raising their skirts and showing their under­ pants, or Vesović’s cycle To Rex, a nude boy with flowers). Such pictures are un­ imaginable today in the media imagery: their publication would hardly go with­ out moral panic, paedophilia accusation and Children’s Ombudsman reactions.

Even in a gallery context, such photo­ graphs today become controversial and a bit circumspect. Let us not forget that towards the end of the 1980s in America, under the pretext of fight against child abuse, moral panic was stirred over Map­ plethorpe’s photographs.

On the pages of Polet we also find photographs of anonymous young men – bodies without a face – from a Ljubljana gay club. This is not only a document

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Zagreb 1983.

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Zagreb 1984.

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Ljubljana II 1984.

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

Beograd 1983.

IVAN POSAVEC

Bez naslova (Prodavač čestitki) Untitled (Greeting cards vendor) 1983.

of the existence of the homosexual and transvestite scene, rather primarily a do­­­ cu­­ment of the media moment when such scenes could appear in the press without being treated in a tabloid fashion, which is to become customary in the upcom­ ing decades, with inevitable headlines like ‘scandalous’ and the obligatory three exclamation points. Persons in these pho­ tographs are not victims of tabloids, they are not powerless, they pose aware of their presence and the camera lens’s role.

Accentuated sexuality is first of all a pose, staging of everyday life which characte­ rises subcultural styles of the 1980s.

Contrary to this, partial female nudes are mostly surprisingly desexualised. Al­ though these semi-portraits/semi-nudes of young women occasionally shows a naked breast, the focus is on the face, the look, most often on the somewhat ironic smile. It is the same provocative gesture addressed to the (petit-)bourgeois audien­­ce, performed by the generational­ ly crucial film of the era, The Medusa Raft directed by Karpo Godina and written

by Branko Vučićević (Viba film & RTV Belgrade, 1980), at a public performance of an avant-garde company – modeled as a reminiscence of Zenitists and Yugosla­ vian Dadaists – somewhere in the Balkan province by former schoolteacher Ljiljana (played by Vladica MIlosavljević). The gesture that spread in the recent years under the hashtag #FreeTheNipple in the digital world of social networks, as a protest against media hypocrisy in por­ traying the female body and censorship policy (especially on Facebook), and in amendments to the law banning women from nursing children in public places.

2

I put quotation marks with porno­graphy because these critics prima­rily referred to the Start magazine, which never crossed the line of softcore erotica.

These photographs of male and female ‘artists and models’ clearly testify to a specific, often neglected, even repressed, aspect of the so-called ‘eighties’, which entered popular culture (from punk and the so-called new wave, to new romanticism, to the later gothic and dark scene) from the current interest and rediscovery of historical avant-gardes. It is the staging of everyday life and a powerful accent on the symbolic role of clothing, either as a punk ‘costume’ or a neo-romanticist ‘dress’, the Laibach uniform or androgynous and transvestite introduction of noise in the sluggish gender code. The same aspect of staging, performance and even spectacularisation of daily life is evident in the photo-mediated performances of Tom Gotovac, also published and promoted precisely in Polet and Stu­ dentski list. Although they too very often include nakednes, ‘nudity’, Gotovac’s performances in public space (unlike some performed specifically for the film or photo camera) are also characterised by the absence of sexuality.

The old hypotheses of radical American feminists about the public presence of ‘pornography’2 in the Yugoslavian society as ‘preparing the field’ for the 1990s wartime rapes are hence com­ pletely wrong and naïve. Evocatively, the first victims of organised conservative counterattack in the early 1990 were precisely various free-spirited publications, from youth press, to political magazines Start and Danas, to different erotica-porno magazines (issues publi­ shed by large publishers, freely sold at newsstands back in the day). However, with their discontinuation the position of women has not improved in any aspect, quite the contrary. Women were among the greatest victims of the post-socialist transition, from the privatisation which particularly struck the workers in traditionally ‘female’ industries, to various forms of re-patriarchalisation and clerical ‘Reconquista’, whose ‘moral’ disguise veiled different forms of institutionally tolerated prostitution, controlled by organised crime, as well as aggressively promoted trivial media culture of cele­ brities, ‘tits and asses’. Post-socialist re-traditionalisation brought the media-created and media-promoted schizophrenic model of woman-mother-queen, who is (as lyrics of popular song claim) ‘both a saint and a whore – according to the need’, to the extreme.

This refers us to another confrontation with the media-circulated myth. Today’s obsession with the new wave scene of the 1980s is not only a regret for the lost youth, but is also continually connected with the lament why there is no such, as they like to nickname it, ‘urban’ scene. An easy way out of this matter is seen in the phrase ‘ruralisation’ and finding scapegoats (‘folk singers’, ‘turbo folk’, etc.).

Today there is no scene not because there are no good musicians, bands, clubs, artists, or because kids do not sit at some other Zvečka cafes, but rather because there is no media articulating this other scene as a scene. When mainstream media occasionally attempt to do so – as it was the case with FAK (Alternative Literature Fe­ stival) – very soon the clear and pre-established limitations of such an action are demonstrated and all is unmasked as a mere attempt of market manipulation. Besides, it is clear that ‘turbo-folk’ or ‘the culture of folk singers’ is no some spontaneous, indigenous grass­ roots movement, but rather also a product of the media industry,

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MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

29

Divlje jagode Wild strawberries 1984.

promoted and supported by no other than ‘our urban boys’, editors and media magnates. There is a clear strategy for not only what is presented, but also how it is presented.

The fact that in these photographs and pages from the late 1970s and early 1980s anonymous workers, members of the subcultural scene, and rock stars were treated in the same way, can also be in­ terpreted as a material document of the moment when industry and post-industry still coexisted. What these photographs, as well as the media in which they originally appeared, indicate it primarily this shift from modern to post-modern, from industrial logic of social organisation to the post-industrial, from Fordism to post-Fordism.

They are hence material witnesses to the fact that these processes are not simply related to the deindustrialisation of the transitional 1990s, but rather that they had been evolving deep in the era of the society we still call socialist.

And while the weary, melancholy, one might say disillusioned, mainly middle-aged male workers belong to the world of the slowly decaying industrial production, these young women – as well as men like Šarović and new wave rock musicians – belong to, at that point, still new and optimistic world of the media, of the spectacle, of everything we call post-industrial production. Looking at these photos today, we need to ask ourselves not only where the work­ ing class has gone (that, unfortunately, we do know), or where these celebrities are and what they do today, but first of all what happened to this optimism, this (naïve?) belief that the future of post-industrial, post-modern world will be nothing but bright? In today’s media we only sporadically and almost accidentally see photographs that could answer these questions by portraying the present life of these already aged girls and boys. Not because there is no photography in today’s media, but because the media and editorial policies – in which tabloid scandalising and patronising on the part of columnists and opinion makers present two faces of the same moralising standpoint which characterises all the conserva­ tive policies – structurally no longer allows such a view. The Polet photography threw out and replaced illustration as a comment, and in today’s printed media there is neither illustration, nor ‘reporting’, ‘original’ photography. The source of images are mainly different stock agencies. At the point when every starlet desirous of media fame posts her ‘provocative’ pictures on Facebook and Instagram, and the media report about it, even tabloid paparazzi lose their role.

A theory long ago asserted that there is something obscene, imma­nently pornographic in photography as a medium. The mo­ dern-day society has no issues with the obscenity of selfies; in today’s point of view, in neoliberal imagination, it is this immanent dignity of daily life, of the ordinary, that is obscene. Henceforth, in today’s

media regime is it impossible – unthink­ able – to portray workers, children, nude women and men in a way that would give them dignity. Here is the paradox that the modern-day Croatian, as well as other post-socialist societies, handles with difficulty: in its forms of censorship, the alleged free market of liberal and democratic society is much more efficient than the alleged totalitarian socialism.

Literature: Walter Benjamin: “Umjetničko djelo u doba svoje tehničke reprodukcije”, in Uz kritiku sile, Razlog, Zagreb 1971; Eseji, Nolit, Bel­ grade 1974.

Peter Burke: Očevid. Upotreba slike kao po­ vijesnog dokaza, Antibarbarus, Zagreb 2003.

Ješa Denegri: “Fotografija - predodžba ili jezik”, Spot br. 7, Zagreb City Galleries, Zagreb 1975.

Susan Sontag: On Photography, 1972.

Vilém Flusser: Towards a Philosophy of Pho­ tography, Reaktion Books 2000.

For advice, comradely criticism and com­ prehensive help in writing this text, I thank Nebojša Jovanović and Borislav Mikulić.

POPIS FOTOGRAFIJA LIST OF PHOTOGRAPHS

30

11. Ines

MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ

1. Bez naslova (“Meko okidanje”)

Untitled (“Soft clicking”) oko 1985. about 1985 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 38,5 x 37,5 cm Poklon povodom izložbe Recently donated for the exhibition

12. D. Kojić

13. Zagreb

1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3418 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3384

15. Zagreb

1984. 1984 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3495 1984. 1984 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3516

1984. 1984 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3423

1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3497

20. Zagreb

9. Ivo i Suzy Ivo and Suzy 1987. 1987 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3425

10. Lupino i curice I

Lupino and little girls I 1987. 1987 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3408

IVAN POSAVEC

1. Bez naslova (Ženska stražnjica)

Untitled (Woman’s behind) 1980. 1980 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3338

2. Bez naslova (Milka Planinc)

oko 1982./ about 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3389

21. Split II 1985. 1985 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3518

Untitled (Milka Planinc) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,7 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3347

3. Bez naslova (Čovjek s pticom)

Untitled (Man with a bird) 1974. 1974 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,7 x 59,7 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3331

4. Bez naslova (Reanimacija Tkalčićeve) Untitled (Reanimation of Tklačićeva Street) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3567

19. V. Divljan

8. Ljubljana II

1984. 1984 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3429

18. Divlje jagode Wild strawberries

7. Ljubljana I 1984. 1984 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3407

1985. 1985 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3520

17. M. Vinčić

6. Rock koncert Rock concert 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3417

24. Annette

1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3385

16. Zagreb

5. Tomaž, (Laibach) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3512

1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3406

1984. 1984 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3432 1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3431

4. Sisak

23. Ivo i Breda Ivo and Breda

14. Beograd

3. Šrejkas

1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3509

1986. 1986 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3511

2. S. Lupino 1986. 1986 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 50 x 60 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3402

22. Zagreb

1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 60 x 50 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3416

5. Bez naslova (Portir)

Untitled (Reception clerk) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,8 x 49,8 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3350

6. Bez naslova (Metalac)

Untitled (Metal worker) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,6 x 49,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3360

7. Bez naslova (Invalidi na paradi)

13. Bez naslova (Dva radnika)

19. Bez naslova (Boksač)

8. Bez naslova (Željezničar)

15. Bez naslova (Miroslav Ćiro Blažević)

20. Bez naslova (Portiri)

9. Bez naslova (Rukavica)

15. Bez naslova (Sađenje cvijeća)

21. Bez naslova (Prodavač čestitki)

10. Bez naslova (Na “Džamiji”)

16. Bez naslova (Omladinac)

Untitled (Invalids on parade) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,7 x 59,8 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3342 Untitled (Railway man) 1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,5 x 49,5 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3548 Untitled (A glove) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3344 Untitled (At “Džamija”) 1978. 1978 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3565

11. Bez naslova (Johnny B. Štulić)

Untitled (Johnny B. Štulić) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3557

12. Bez naslova (U gostioni)

Untitled (In a pub) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,6 x 49,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3532

Untitled (Two workers) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,6 x 49,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3531 Untitled (Miroslav Ćiro Blažević) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,7 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3555 Untitled (Planting flowers) 1979. 1979 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,7 x 59,7 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3334 Untitled (Member of Youth organization) 1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,6 x 49,5 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3539

17. Bez naslova ( Radnik na gablecu)

Untitled (Worker having a break) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,6 x 49,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3533

31

Untitled (Reception clerks) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,7 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3349 Untitled (Greeting cards vendor) 1983. 1983 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3540

TOMISLAV GOTOVAC

1. Posavec

1985. 1985 Sitotisak/papir Silkscreen/paper

Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 6450

2. Fotografije Vesović

1988. 1988 Sitotisak/papir Silkscreen/paper

Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 6478

18. Bez naslova (Pjevačica)

Untitled (Female singer) 1981. 1981 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 59,8 x 49,6 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3343

naslovnica cover MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ, Zagreb, 1982. zadnja stranica back cover MILISAV MIO VESOVIĆ, V. Divljan, 1983.

Republika Hrvatska Ministarstvo kulture Republic of Croatia Ministry of Culture

Grad Zagreb

Izložba je realizirana sredstvima Ministarstva kulture Republike Hrvatske i Gradskog ureda za obrazovanje, kulturu i sport Grada Zagreba. The exhibition is funded by the Ministry of Culture of the Republic of Croatia and City Department of Education, Culture and Sport.

ISBN: 978-953-7615-82-6

Untitled (Pugilist) 1982. 1982 crno-bijela fotografija b/w photograph 49,6 x 59,7 cm Inv. br. Inv. no. MSU 3358

Posebna zahvala Ivanu Posavcu i Miji Vesoviću Special thanks to Ivan Posavec and Mijo Vesović

• Izdavač Publisher Muzej suvremene umjetnosti Museum of Contemporary Art, Ave­ nija Du­brov­nik 17, 10010 Zag­reb; Cro­atia; tel: +385 1 605 27 00; E-mail: msu@msu. hr; www.msu.hr • Za izdavača For the publi­sher Snježana Pintarić • Urednica kata­ loga Catalogue editor Leila Topić • Kustosica izložbe Exhibition curator Leila Topić • Tekst Text Leila Topić, Dejan Kršić • Prijevod Translation Ivana Ostojčić • Lektu­ ra Jadranka Pintarić, Ante Perković • Language Editing Tomislav Brlek, Dejan Kršić • Autori postava Authors of Display Leila Topić, Duško Stupar • Fotografije postava Ex­ hibition Photographs Tomisalv Šmider, Martina Vidas Butorac • Tehnički po­s­tav Tech­ nical Set-up Tehnička služba MSU-a Technical department • Restauracija fotografija Restoration of photographs Mirta Pavić, Maja Vurušić • Produkcija Produ­ction Muzej suvre­mene umjetnosti Museum of Contemporary Art • Grafičko oblikova­nje Gra­phic design Ana Zubić • Tisak Print Zelina d.d. • Na­k lada Print run 300 kom