06-2004
THE STAGED MATRIX
Marta Kuzma
Abstracts from the author's Manifesta 5 catalogue text
An interpretation of place as a contradiction between the
demand for order and the will to formlessness, bracketing
the rational and irrational, offers an architectonic point
of departure for envisioning a possible trajectory for Manifesta
as a concept. With open-endedness and fragment as part of
its matrix, Manifesta's very flexibility benefits from its
genre as a project, but one equivalent to a city as part of
a broader territory. Manifesta's critical validity is invested
in its abstract temporal structure that totalizes history
from the standpoint of the ever-vanishing and ever-present,
and embraces a conflicting plurality of projects, relational
points and possible futures. Through an endeavor to claim
the city and its possible other, Manifesta extends beyond
theoretical applications to invent a series of scenarios that
enable the very dimensions of the city to become personified.
By effectively extending the parameters of the city in this
way, Manifesta transforms the place into an evental site that
anticipates a future.
Manifesta arrives in San Sebastian in the Basque autonomous
region vociferously; perhaps one of the most critical sites
since its inception. Located in the very seat of a movement
focused on cultural autonomy, Manifesta develops in an emphatically
singular place where supermodernity, accelerated space and
any characterization of the artwork as a site of non-place
must proceed cautiously. As an international art event, it
is contrasted against an environment of intermittent insurgency
where power may appear intangible or even ghostly. As an implicit
site of tension, the region is detached from global or synthetic
notions of either history or the present. This forces Manifesta
to operate as a critical cultural manifestation with the fortunate
challenge of working with contingencies that inevitably direct
actions and strategies, which are first and foremost interpreted
by the realpolitik of the region. Subsequently, the project
inevitably questions intelligibility and resolution as abstract
and unstable concepts inscribed in a dialectical site marked
by a consciousness of temporality that represents both a structural
present and a gesture towards a future.
Abstracting from the social experience of San Sebastian, Manifesta
implies a departure from the logic of its difference that
influences the syntax and semantics of the cultural. By referring
to the architectonics of place, an attempt is made to reveal
the essence of something that simultaneously articulates the
economic, political, historical and aesthetic, which prompts
one to seek beneath the surface of the project's rationalist
appearance. What is it in the nature of its particular that
seeks a constellation for a broader meaning? How is it possible
to quote the elements of place to instill a sense of monumentality
in the everyday? And, in this way, how is it possible to formulate
a project as one interwoven into the fabric of the city so
that it evolves into something more?
Locating a Form for the Political
Within a zone of contingency such as the Basque region, the
malleability of time and space discloses the omnipresence
and unpredictability of change as endemic to its structure.
The understanding of the area is plagued by what is connoted
by the clandestine nature of ETA, an organization responsible
for changing the course of modern Spanish history twice -
first directly in the death of Carrero Blanco and secondly,
indirectly, in the rumour of the organisation's purported
involvement in the Atocha bombings. The very polemics around
ETA served as central to the the former Popular Party government
in their stylization of a 'new strategic culture' against
terrorism, which equated the more complex issues relating
to the territorial structure of Spain with black and white
incentives toward violence.
The realpolitik of the territory, however, transcends this
covert aspect and is, in actuality, framed by aspirations
for the autonomy claimed in the controversial Ibarretxe Plan
for Basque sovereignty. This proposal in the form of a claim,
even if dismissed as political rumour or regional rancour
by its opponents, is nevertheless publicly articulated and
challenged in the regional parliament. Only faintly echoed
in the international media, the plan challenges a traditional
notion of the nation-state in a way that is, quite simply,
incompatible with today's Europe. Amidst the resulting irregularities
this plan introduces to the traditional flow of city, region,
province, and state, it is possible to consider a juxtaposition
of the rational and irrational as relevant in relation to
art. Certainly, it is not the intent of Manifesta to legitimize
any political initiatives. Its incentive remains to abstract
from the social experience of the Basque region in order to
locate a parallel discourse that considers the autonomous
work of art, one characterized by dissonance and tension in
its construction. In this context, art's challenge is not
to privilege the regime of the spectacle or any fantasies
about the overcoming of the state and the end of politics
(perhaps exemplified by the nihilistic attitudes of the Situationists).
But it also cannot deny existing realities by merely reducing
them to private matters. Manifesta is an attempt to broaden
what is regarded as contemporary history by projecting art's
social agency as a form of resistance that negates attempts
at clarity and immediacy and reaffirms the power of reflection
through its very performativity.
Irreconcilable Differences as a Critical Site for Art
How are sites of resistance to be understood spatially, temporally,
theoretically, and practically? Ever since Adolf Loos referred
to architecture as a "cry into emptiness," art has
drawn from the debates around critical architecture to seek
out within it the political logic of resistance. Architectural
ideology has contributed to the formulation of a performative
aesthetic that endows art with the potential to recollect
what no longer exists and anticipate what has yet to exist
in a vision of an alternative world. Although the cooperation
between architecture and art has evolved into a dominant form,
it is important to point out what distinguishes each discipline
as thought and practice to understand the evolution of their
entanglement. The central consideration of this history returns
to the basic question of functionalism. Architectural theorist
Andrew Benjamin has noted that art, in order to be art, must
negate the present, otherwise it would be in its service.
Architecture, Benjamin continues, while having function, cannot
negate individuals as they are.
The historical dynamic of function - from its utopian considerations
arriving out of an effacement of ornament to the contestation
of its treatment as such by the mid 20th century, lodged the
1960s as a time frame whereby postwar critical thought returned
to the cultural field with the roots of its revival in the
Frankfurt School while a crisis of urbanism prevailed throughout
Europe. What emerged was a divergence of views over the notion
of the subject in relation to the built environment. The original
utopian values of the Russian Revolution were overtaken by
the USSR's technocratic bureaucracy. France under de Gaulle
was not far removed from the restrictive policies of Franco's
regime. The Algerian War promoted further intellectual dissent
in France which resulted in movements suchas 'Manifeste des
121' against the government. How did the zeitgeist of the
1960s contribute to an understanding that architecture had
surpassed its premise as ideology? How did art attempt to
proceed apart from the cycles of production and consumption
in late capitalism to stand apart from the increasingly compromised
position of architecture? How did art evolve as the only remaining
mediator from which architecture might borrow to fathom its
other possibilities? Basque sculptor Jorge Oteiza, who left
the art world after his presentation of Operation H in the
Bienal de São Paulo in 1957, sought out alternative
possibilities for cultural production available in the factory
and documented them on film. In a letter written to a colleague
in 1965, he expressed his views about a "new functionalist
approach to the art gallery" that marked a departure
from the concrete rationalism and geometric reasoning of place
prevalent in previous decades toward the emergence of irrational,
spontaneous, subjective and informal conditions of expression.
Art began to extend rather than recite the language of architecture
by distilling its logic and leaving its functional aspirations
and adherence to a monocular perspective behind.
The early 1960s saw an international revision of the social
significance of architecture that oscillated between handicraft
and imagination and its subordination to rationality. The
city became the central site where questions of the architectonic
collided with the social in areas that related to the existence
or non-existence of the social subject. Theodor Adorno referenced
these oscillating arguments between rationality and expression
relevant within the debates of architecture in a little-noted
but seminal essay entitled 'Functionalism Today' presented
to the German Werkbund in 1965.The essay was pivotal in releasing
Adorno's arguments from the traditional categories of function
and ornament framed in the first half of the 20th century
to revise these concepts in confrontation with the current
socio-historical situation and the emerging global economy.
In doing so, Adorno structured a logic that invested critical
architecture as the foundation for understanding the autonomous
work of art by unraveling the irreconcilability of function
and expression as the optimal condition to explain why architecture
inhabits culture before culture inhabits architecture, and
how architecture tends to construct the visual before it is
placed in the visual.
The Cry into Emptiness
Architecture as a discipline lodged in the future fathoms
the possibilities of what has yet to be. In its projection
toward the future, architecture relies on a kind of staging
process that resists the literal to try to convey that despite
a building's privileged status as complete, it is, at the
same time, incomplete. This contradiction in terms is made
evident by architecture's binding relationship to space, which
is gauged against notions of staged time versus built time
in the generation of form. Within the matrix of staged time,
it is possible to unlock a singular concept of time and release
its complexity in the interplay of form and function inherent
to the logic of architectural thought through alterity, or
the understanding of otherness, which allows the aesthetic
to surpass the materiality of art by means of an imagination
that Adorno refers to as 'innervated.' This imagination enables
the development of the immateriality of excess that assumes
an enigmatic form reaffirming the irreconcilability of differences
and dissonance within the construction of a work of art.
The logic of architecture and its articulation of spaces is
inscribed by a gap - that between the structural present and
a gesturing toward a future - marking a site of tension and
potential. It is in this gap, this striving for what has yet
to be defined, implicit in both art and architecture, that
a future may be projected to overcome the present. In this
projection, function extends beyond a question of what is
practical and useful to encompass "that which may be,"
which refers to alterity as the pivotal mechanism distinguishing
an autonomous work of art from a real project and allows it
to retain its critical status as lodged between the probable
and the possible. The autonomous work of art is inscribed
by a tendency that may find its metaphor in the performative.
An artwork is determined by the integral organization of all
its elements so that nothing remains of the ornamental. It
strives toward becoming a more opaque and unintelligible object
so its effective de-arting is essential to its constitution.
Assuming an enigmatic form, art adopts the metaphor of a puzzle
that constantly thwarts any solution. In this way, it operates
within the paradox of its own incomprehensibility to lead
to an understanding of art as more of a tendency and a gesture
than a result. This allows for the production of emotional
effects, even if invisible, to produce 'the more,' or what
Adorno refers to as the 'crackling noise' of art.
Fathoming Another Place
The particularities of place lead to the possibility of conceptualizing
various futures without departing from the real factors and
forces moulding the future forms of this place. San Sebastian
is a leisure-oriented space, a potlatch of surplus objects,
symbols and energies, with an accent on sports, reinvigoration
and the carnivalesque, rather than on rest, relaxation and
asceticism. The illusion of naturalness exhibited by the city
makes space for another illusion: that of a centralized, organized,
symbolized and programmed space facilitating the production
of a representational space. In its spontaneously induced
eroticism, it holds material for the development of ample
discursive sites for interrogation and investigation. As a
predominantly figurative city by virtue of a neoclassical
reconstruction designed by Pedro Manuel de Ugartemendia after
a devastating fire in 1813, San Sebastian reeks of narrative
to the point that would inevitably lead Adolf Loos to scream:
'ornament and crime.' Extended to its very edges by the abstract
volumes of Rafael Moneo's Kursaal, the city as discursive
and shifting meets the sea, which is, in contrast, a kind
of solid defined in history, identities and functions. Moneo's
orthogonal tectonic spaces silhouetting the headlands of Mont
Urgull and Ulia employ a compositional device of rotation
that draws from the Bahia de La Concha to other critical sites
for intervention. As a Derridean marker of the limit and the
delimited, the interior and the anterior, it announces the
sublime as the ontological condition of this particular place.
Situated within the as if, San Sebastian envisions itself
as 'other' through a critical exploration of contemporary
culture and aesthetics in the form of a project.
The consideration of the limit is not in the sense of a marker
but as a means of discriminating between a certain order and
a certain disorder - that which falls within the limit is
subject to the law and that beyond it is devoid of law and
form. In this sense, nature points to a hybrid domain that
refers back to the cult of ruin that holds within it a force
of resistance that expresses a history and yet is compelling.
As an example, the surroundings of San Sebastian falsely invite
an innate faith in natural beauty that in reality has been
subject to the incursions of technology in the production
of a man-made landscape along the coast. What Humboldt referred
to as the craggy Basque landscape, is in large part an illusion
and an imitation that constitutes it as artifactal - a 'cultural
landscape' from which it is possible to abstract to find the
relational in the aesthetics of nature to the philosophy of
art. At its very core, nature is a reality that points to
something other - to the difference between what we interpret
as the reality of nature and a certain fiction that the idea
of nature imposes. It is not merely a division of what is
visible and invisible but an alluding to a 'something more'
that leads to suspension and the unthinkable, to an undeterminable
detour that is marked by a perpetual movement of withdrawal
and to reinscription. Nature points to an otherness that presents
to thought the concept of alterity. The aesthetic attitude
toward nature - that of contemplation, that of correspondence
and the experience of nature as a prototype implies different
modes of experiencing temporality. As the experience of contemplation
relates to the present as a passing moment, the experience
of correspondence relates to the past, and the experience
of an imagination to the future. These attitudes imply aesthetic
experiences of landscape wherein the experience of nature
in correspondence plays a predominant role in architecture
bound by a time and space relationship that extends beyond
the language of existing buildings and structures and questions
of practicality and function.
The experience of the sublime relocates within the present-day
space of the abject - within container-ridden port areas and
industrial lots common within the outlying industrial belts
of San Sebastian in Letxo or the nearby industrial ghost-town
of Eibar - an architectural wonder of small scale modernist
factories on the verge of demolition. The present-day experience
of the sublime, then, locates human subjectivity in an otherness
outside of what is experienced as the myth of natural beauty,
to remind us that not everything is to be reduced to exchange
value, and that not everything must submit to the control
of an instrumental reason subject to a location within the
grid of definitions and categories. The prior systems of classification
and belief are subject to a historical dynamic that calls
for revision and reinterpretation. And art therefore requires
the sublime in order to extend out of its frame of mere appearances
to become, as Adorno claims, an active independent agency
and not merely a reservoir of historical frustrations of failed
dreams and projects of human emancipation.
Why is art 'art,' anyway, if anyone would even care to ask?
Adorno answers enigmatically that art most resembles the phrase
'Here I am' or 'This is what I am,' or even 'I am a Rhinoceros
- for there is no place/without eyes to see you.' Cryptic
as this may sound, the analogy promotes an understanding of
art that defers from identification and tends towards a reliance
on the interdependence of entities that locks in a binding
object-subject relationship. Art is by its nature animated,
continually speaking back to us. It acts like a subject by
engaging the subject and, ironically, it is the gaze of the
artwork that engages the subject and constitutes expression.
What essentially makes art 'art' is the residue of the subject
in the artwork. This is the way that subjectivity defines
itself in the object and understands itself through the object.
Violence of the Imagination and Negation
Vandalism. The territory is intermittently vandalized by graffiti
and by virtue of the immediate recourse taken by the authorities
to remove the traces, the inscriptions read as invasive acts.
This roving interventionism continually threatens the space
to stand accused without an alibi through the mechanism of
a spontaneous event, a project, a deed. The city's identity
consequently evolves as a possible fiction, if one is to consider
Mikhail Bakhtin's formulation that identity could be fiction,
and at the same time universally present in assumptions made
about one's status as an individual, in human social experience,
language and even in scientific speculation. Other clues persist
in proximity to San Sebastian. A recently built museum dedicated
to the exhibition of cement as a cultural and historical artifact
is offered as a tourist site strokes Valéry's notion
of the museum as mausoleum, with critical work being found
everywhere else but there. The Museo del Cemento Rezola is
located within a composite environment that includes a sports
ground, kiosk, bar and neighboring factory. With declamatory
banners hung prominently throughout, a cultural space evolves
similar to El Lissitsky's PROUN, as a type of abstraction
of a propaganda hoarding, cryptic and unintelligible while
at the same time communicating urgency. The signs without
instructional function appear as head-on collisions announcing
a fracture that prompts investigation. Posted banners in apparent
protest read as painted writing functioning like Corday's
letter in the hand of David's Marat - a discursive form that
is not necessarily decipherable. At this point, it is possible
to cite Mayakovsky's poetry or Malevich's battle cry - U el
el el teka! It points to a breakdown in the order of meaning
and claims all as null and void.
Artworks rely on these very toxins to allow for an existence
beyond a mere thingness. They do so through the language of
the mute or through what Beckett describes as the desecration
of silence and the enigmatic. Nevertheless, their protest
lies in the logic of negation which allows them the possibility
of simply being resigned as things among things. Although
the functionalist work of art may approximate the appearance
of usefulness, it does not respond to any external or practical
function. Without the intent to be fulfilled as architecture,
art continues in architecture's vein to strive to articulate
the seemingly functional in order to pose questions as to
how the nature of domestic, institutional or public space
can play a role in the formation of the human subject. Although
architecture has historically provided art with a critical
language, architecture has resisted following art's example.
Architect Peter Eisenman interpreted this as contemporary
architecture's very weakness - in its resistance to proceed
from those questions initially asked by Piranesi in relation
to the Panopticon to challenge the traditional subject-object
relationships. Eisenman noted that it was the investigations
by artists such as Dan Graham, Gordon Matta-Clark, and Robert
Smithson, who throughout the 60s and 70s displaced the viewing
subject from his/her position in an anthropocentric stability.
Like a Porcupine
How is it possible for a project such as Manifesta to learn
from the structure of an artwork in order to behave socially
and politically without having to immerse itself in reality?
To find the possibility of articulating from a distance, but
nevertheless poignantly, in approaching the subject but not
only one defined as the viewing subject? How is it then possible
to build this into the process of Manifesta as an internal
critique of both its own development and the place that has
essentially consigned its form as a way to promote culture
as a reflection of the city? If Manifesta, by its very nature,
is a category of representation that links art with the specifics
of the urban, how then can a project such as this one help
to extend the language of architecture and urbanism in order
to explore how culture may serve to catalyze change rather
than be something purely ornamental? In these circumstances,
when everything seems to be written on the sleeve of the place
of Manifesta's inception, the key still lies in looking for
what is not there and finding it elsewhere, although not too
far from home.
Driving several kilometers inland past San Sebastian's first
beach and the monumental Kursaal, one encounters a port that
is altogether antithetical to the picturesque San Sebastian
in almost every way - politically, socially, economically
and demographically. Decaying ships and vacant warehouses
indicate a port and a surrounding town that seem to have been
short-circuited from their former construction, maritime,
trade and fishing activities. To contrast the two areas simply,
San Sebastian, characterized by a tertiary economy, symbolizes
leisure at its very essence, and Pasaia, a secondary economy,
points to labour in decline. Although it had been Manifesta's
initial intent to inhabit Pasaia to reflect the spectral doubling
that characterizes San Sebastian, what evolved was far more
critical than merely establishing a metaphorical dimension
for an exhibition. The more rational collaboration sought
out with the Berlage Institute in the form of the Office of
Alternative Urban Planning and the expressive sculpting into
Ondartxo as an open-ended and evolving museum - these projects
broke Manifesta out of the immediacy of its scheduled time
bracket and interwove it into the fabric of city and regional
planning. The resulting inter-articulation of San Sebastian
and Pasaia anticipated the possibilities of a future construction
of behavior that overrode the debates about possible results.
As noted by Sebastian Khourian, the contingency endemic to
the region was observed as a vital force rather than a weakness
in order to create the possibility for entrance to a place
that formerly prevented entry.
It is art's privilege to defer political activism and to retain
its power in promoting an awareness on the part of the subject
of the social limits imposed by the city planning or by governments.
As Adorno claims, perhaps autonomous art does not necessarily
change political attitudes, but its effectiveness under advanced
capitalist conditions lies in its ability to mount crucial
resistance, which may inevitably lead to such changes. Insofar
as a social function can be predicated for artworks, their
social essence requires a double reflection on their being
for themselves and on their relations to society. By crystallizing
in itself something unique onto itself, rather than complying
with existing social norms and qualifying as socially useful,
the artwork criticizes society by merely existing. Artworks
arrive as the most profound instances of social alienation,
their objectivity - the distance between the subject and freedom
- constituting the artwork as a testament and a reminder of
unfreedom.
|