DVOJNI ZID TIŠINE

Opis razstave

Dvojni zid tišine

Galerija Škuc, 19. 12. 2019–16. 1. 2020

Umetniki: Daniel García Andújar, Louis-Cyprien Rials, Driton Selmani, Ariel Schlesinger, Vangjush Vellahu

Kuratorki: Anja Obradović in Hana Ostan Ožbolt

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Obrazstavni dogodki:

19. 12. ob 18. 30 javno vodstvo
19. 12 ob 19. 00 odprtje razstave
9. 1. ob 18. 00 javno vodstvo

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Izhodišče skupinske razstave Dvojni zid tišine je polje napetosti med izrečenim in neizrečenim, med utišanim in pozabljenim, med individualnim in kolektivnim. Migracije kot prevladujoča tema zadnjih let so sprožile razprave o nacionalnih mejah, beguncih, manjšinah, izgubi identitete, o »njih« in o »nas«, o nevarnosti in travmi. Moč vpisovanja izkušenj in spominov zastavlja vprašanja o različnih oblikah pripovedi, mdr. : kdo je govorec in kdo poslušalec? Koliko časa – in tišine – mora preteči, da lahko mesto govorca pripada brezimnemu in da ga je poslušalec, četudi gre za nezaželeno pričevanje, zmožen v polnosti slišati? Kdaj je dialog sploh mogoč in kaj se zgodi, če povedano ostane neslišano? Razstava se skozi izbor del petih umetnikov, ki raziskujejo ali se poigravajo s prisotnostjo in odsotnostjo, obstojem in neobstojem, osredotoča na zamolčano ter na moč neizrečenega; na tišino kot obliko jezika in pripovedi.

Besedno zvezo »dvojni zid tišine« je v svojem delu Zapuščina tišine (1994)[1] v navezavi na zgodovino holokavsta podrobno analiziral izraelski psiholog Dan Bar-On, nedavno pa jo je aktualizirala jezikoslovka Aleida Assmann, ki je s svojim pisanjem zaznamovala razmisleke ob razstavi. »Travmatični spomin se po obdobju tišine, v kateri se ohranja v nekakšnem latentnem stanju, vrača v preskokih«. [2] To obdobje tišine je lahko daljše ali krajše, njegovo trajanje pa je odvisno od tega, kdaj se porušita dva zidova: zid, ki so ga postavili travmatizirani, da bi se zaščitili pred bolečino svojih izkušenj (in le tako lahko preživeli); in tisti zid, ki ga je postavila preostala družba zato, da bi se obvarovala pred nezaželeno resnico. Razkol med ne-govorcem in ne-poslušalcem torej obstaja, dokler med njima ostaja dvojni zid tišine. V delih na razstavi ga, vsak v svoji izjemno izdelani poetiki, rušijo izbrani umetniki.

Dela Louis-Cypriena Rialsa in Ariela Schlesingerja vzpostavljajo narativ, ki se sooča z zagato, kako ubesediti neubesedljivo in kako skozi vizualni jezik posredovati odsotno. Ariel Schlesinger (1980, Jeruzalem) se v poetičnih in dovršenih intervencijah v vsakodnevne predmete, ki v sebi nosijo moment presenečenja, poigrava z ognjem, enim od prepoznavnih elementov njegove umetniške prakse. Dela se na več ravneh dotikajo kolektivnih travm, strahov in subjektivnih oziroma objektivnih razsežnosti katastrofičnosti. So skulpture v trajanju, ki jih obiskovalec doživi, ob katerih se znajde v nekakšnem vmesnem stanju težko ubesedljive napetosti: začetno očaranje zamenja zavedanje potencialne nevarnosti, ki skozi svojo neizvršitev postaja »stanje stvari«: At arm’s length (2017), Objet trouvé (Head) (2017), After ‘All Red’ (2017).

Podoben občutek do neke mere posreduje untitled (Mogadishu, Somalia) (2019). Ob ogledu posnetkov peščenih plaž, zvoka morja in vetra se namreč ne zgodi nič takega, kar bi direktno lociralo prizorišče. Video skozi napetost med podobo in zvokom le diskretno priča o pokrajini, zaznamovani z nasiljem; gledalec je povabljen, da se o tem podrobneje seznani šele izven okvira izbranega in drugih video-del Louis-Cypriena Rialsa (1981, Francija). untitled (2019) je serija razglednic z različnimi motivi, ki se prav tako navezuje na Somalijo. Neketere izmed njih, prebaravane na črno 2. 0, aludirajo na nezmožnost reprezentacije sunitskih muslimanov, lokacija je podana zgolj na njihovi zadnji strani. Druge prikazuje zastave in embleme različnih skupin (tudi terorističnih), ki se na območju države borijo za teritorije ali osvoboditev; tretje pa so izvirne kartice iz kolonialističnih časov (z naslovi v italijanščini in angleščini), ki odražajo pokrajine že pozabljenih, »srečnejših« časov.

V nasprotju z njim Vangjush Vellahu (1987, Albanija) v seriji Fragmenti I neposredno locira dogajanje. Skozi osebna pričevanja naključnih prebivalcev dokumentira sedanji položaj šestih nepriznanih oziroma le delno priznanih držav. Na njihov (ne)obstoj vplivajo mednarodni akterji, katerih aktivnost/pasivnost zaznamuje življenja ljudi, zamrznjena v nekakšnem stanju vmesnosti, nepripadnosti, izgubljenosti; prav osebne zgodbe nakazujejo na večplastno zgodovino teh pozabljenih entitet. Seznam nepriznanih držav je dolg, zato je projekt »prolog, ki ga je treba nadaljevati«, pravi umetnik. Instalacija odstira vpogled v Abkhazio, Severni Ciper, Nagorno-Karabakh, Trans’nistria, Kosovo in Južno Osetijo.

Vmesnost kot mesto vzpostavljanja dialoga je prostor, iz katerega nastopa tudi Driton Selmani (1987, Kosovo). Avtor v zadnjem obdobju izkoristi sleherno priložnost za posredovanje svojih igrivih, ironičnih in pogosto tudi osebno izpovednih sporočil, pa naj gre za najdene objekte ali posege v javni prostor. Njegovi enostavčni izreki ali navidez mimobežni dovtipi kričijo po pozornosti ter razkrivajo dvome, upe in strahove; kolektivne in intimne, slednje močno zaznamovane z zgodovino države, v kateri je odrasel. Only Time Will Tell (2019) sveti napis na notranjem dvorišču.

Daniel García Andújar (1966, Španija), umetnik in teoretik umetnosti, se v svojih projektih kritično sooča z dominantnimi ideologijami. Razkriti prevladujoč operacijski sistem, izpostaviti njegove pomanjkljivosti in jih kritično uporabiti proti standardizaciji jezika, skozi katerega se ustvarja in ohranja ta isti svet, razume kot svojo osrednji model delovanja. Soy Gitano/Echastrí 14 (I am Gipsy/Article 14) (1992) je prevod 14. člena konvencije o človekovih pravicah (iz španske ustave iz leta 1978) v romski jezik. Delo je bilo realizirano v obliki serije plakatov, muralov in intervencij v javni prostor, uvršča pa se v večjo skupino avtorjevih projektov iz obdobja devetdesetih let. Te so nastali kot odgovor na umetniške poetike v času porasta antropoloških in socioloških študij (»umetnik kot vizualni antropolog«), ki so se želeli približati »drugemu«, a so ga skozi ukvarjanje z njegovo »drugostjo« pogosto še izraziteje diskriminirali. Drugo delo na razstavi, video Albatera Concentration Camp (2019), se v kombinaciji pogleda drona in naracije v verzih sooča s travmatično zgodovino koncentracijskega taborišča v umetnikovi rodni pokrajini Alicante. Še ena zgodba, povsem odsotna iz španskih šolskih učbenikov, pove Andújar – tako kot v videu prisoten glas Miguela Hernándeza, ljudskega pesnika, ki ga je utišal lik bolj znanega Federica García Lorce.

[1] Dan Bar On, Legacy of Silence (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1994).

[2] Aleida Assmann, »Silence as the Form of Language«, v: Aslan Gaisumov. Keicheyuhea (Sternberg Press, 2019).

Razstavo sta omogočila: Mestna občina Ljubljana in Ministrstvo za kulturo.

fotografija:

Louis-Cyprien Rials, Untitled (Mogadishu, Somalia), 2019. Courtesy of the artist & Eric Mouchet Gallery, Paris.

Louis-Cyprien Rials, Brez naslova (Mogadishu, Somalia), 2019. Z dovoljenjem umetnika in Galerije Eric Mouchet, Pariz.

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Double Wall of Silence

Škuc Gallery, 19 December 2019 – 16 January 2020

Artists: Daniel García Andújar, Louis-Cyprien Rials, Driton Selmani, Ariel Schlesinger, Vangjush Vellahu

Curators: Anja Obradović and Hana Ostan Ožbolt

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Exhibition events:

19. 12. at 6:30 pm Guided tour

19. 12. at 7 pm Exhibition opening

9. 1. at 6 pm Guided tour

The starting point of the group exhibition Double Wall of Silence is a field of tension between the spoken and the unspoken, between the muted and the forgotten, between the individual and the collective. Migration as a dominant theme in recent years has sparked discussions about national borders, refugees, minorities, loss of identity, “them” and “us”, danger and trauma. The power of recording experiences and memories poses questions about the forms of narrative, one of them being: who is the speaker and who is the listener? How much time – and silence – does it take for the nameless to become a speaker, and how much for the listener to be able to fully hear the undesirable testimony? When is dialogue even possible, and what happens if what is said remains unheard? Through a selection of works by five artists who explore or play with presence and absence, existence and non-existence, the exhibition focuses on the silenced and the power of the unspoken; on silence as a form of language and narrative.

Israeli psychologist Dan Bar-On, in his work Legacy of Silence (1994),^[1] analyses in detail the expression “double wall of silence” in relation to the history of the Holocaust. The term was recently recontextualised by linguist Aleida Assmann, whose writing marked our way of thinking as we prepared this exhibition. “Traumatic memory returns in leaps, after periods of silence in which it is preserved in a state of latency”. ^[2] This period of silence may be longer or shorter, its duration depending on the moment at which two walls collapse: the one erected by the traumatized for protection from their own experiences, therefore survival; the other one erected by the rest of society to protect itself from the undesirable truth. Hence, the divide between the non-speaker and non-listener exists because there is a double wall of silence between them. In the works presented the artists dismantle this wall, each in their own exceptionally elaborated poetic.

The works of Louis-Cyprien Rials and Ariel Schlesinger establish a narrative that confronts the conundrum of how to verbalise by means of a tacit representation; how to translate or convey silently through visual language. In his poetical and sophisticated interventions, carrying an element of surprise onto everyday objects, Ariel Schlesinger (1980, Jerusalem) flirts with the element of fire, having become a recognizable trait of his artistic practice. His works, dealing with collective traumas, fears and the subjective/objective dimensions of catastrophism on several levels, are sculptures in duration. Visitors who engage with them find themselves in a sort of intermediate state of tension difficult to verbalise; the initial enchantment is replaced by an awareness of the potential danger, which through its non-realisation, becomes the “state of affairs”: At arm’s length (2017), Objet trouvé (Head) (2017), After ‘All Red’ (2017).

Something similar may also come from untitled (Mogadishu, Somalia) (2019). While looking at the frames of sandy beaches, the sound of the sea and the wind, nothing in particular happens that helps us locate the scenery the artist is observing. Through the tension between image and sound, featuring no analysis of what is being seen and heard, the video is only a discreet testimony to a landscape marked by violence. The invitation instead is to investigate the causes outside the framework of the film by Louis-Cyprien Rials (1981, France). Another work, untitled (2019), is a series of postcards with different motives. Some of them are challenging the viewer to imagine the territory, painted in black 2. 0 they allude to the impossibility of representation by the Sunni Muslims, while their location is elusive by the titles found on their reverse. Those with flags represent different entities, which are competing for independence and territory, giving a vexillological character to the whole. The originals from the colonialist times (titled in Italian and English) reflect the landscapes of the already forgotten “happier” times.

In contrast, Vangjush Vellahu (1987, Albania) in his series Fragments I, directly situates us and informs us about what and where he is filming. The verbal dialogues he engages in with the inhabitants serve as testimonies of a hidden reality, not so present in our everyday media. Documenting the current situation of six unrecognised (or only partially recognised) countries through random encounters along the way in his curious travels, the multifaceted history of these forgotten entities is suggested and brought to light. Their existence or non-existence is influenced by international actors whose activity or passivity marks them, frozen in a kind of interim, non-belonging, misplacement. The list of unrecognised countries is long, making the work a “prologue that will have to be continued”, as the artist states. His installation gives an insight into Abkhazia, the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, Nagorno-Karabakh, Trans’nistria, Kosovo, and South Ossetia.

This in-betweenness, as the place where dialogue can be established, is also the position from which Driton Selmani (1987, Kosovo) acts. In the recent period, he has taken every opportunity to convey his playful, ironic and often confessional messages, whether in the use of everyday objects or interventions in public space. His one-sentence pronouncements or seemingly fleeting jokes, scream for attention and reveal constant doubt. They represent hopes and fears, collective and intimate, heavily marked by the country in which he grew up: Only Time Will Tell (2019), reads an inscription glowing in the inner courtyard of the gallery.

Daniel García Andújar (1966, Spain), an artist and art theorist, critically confronts prevailing ideologies in his projects. By revealing the dominant operating system, exposing its flaws, hacking it, using it critically, he opens up spaces of resistance to the standardising of language through which the world is created. As he puts it: ¨to democratize democracy is to crack the code”. The exhibition presents two of his works. Soy Gitano / Echastrí 14 (I am Gipsy / Article 14) (1992) is a record of the Article 14 (from the 1978 Spanish Constitution) on Human Rights in the Roma language. By writing it on the wall in a language of an ethnic minority spread around Europe, the artist puts emphasis on the act´s call for protection against discrimination. Worth mentioning, the work has also been shown as a series of posters, murals, and interventions in the public space as part of a larger group of his projects from the 1990s. At that time and in the rise of anthropological and sociological studies (“the artist as a visual anthropologist”) projects sought to approach the “other”, but through dealing with this “otherness” they often discriminated even more. The work is a commentary on it and it reverses this ideology. Albatera Concentration Camp (2019), combines a drone’s view and the narration of a verse to confront the traumatic history of a concentration camp in the artist’s home province