a. the athens contemporary art review 04
Post on 19-Mar-2016
224 Views
Preview:
DESCRIPTION
TRANSCRIPT
issu
e 4
- m
ay 2
006
the
athe
ns c
onte
mpo
rary
art
revi
ew·.
Contents
Drafts
Interview
George Hadjimichalis talks to Asteropi Lazaridou
Rooms to Let
Alexandra Moschovi writes about the exhibition Visions 06
Art criticism and art production
Anny Malama returns to the exhibition The Years of Defiance
The Athens She-Werewolf
Christopher Marinos writes about Eva Vretzaki’s exhibition
Why have a tattoo?
Iliana Fokianaki writes about the exhibition Tatoo my art, curated
by Nadia Argyropoulou
Your Sweetness is My Weakness
Kostas Ioannidis writes about the project Black Tuda
Visits
Katerina Nikou meets Maro Mihalakakos
03
0
816
24
32
36
42
46
03
Subjecktiveberlinersuppe
Soup, pasta with minced meat sauce,
fish, pork roll, spinach and seaweed
salad. Dinner in Berlin at an illicit
Japanese restaurant that is only open
on weekends. The tables, benches,
the kitchen itself are on wheels so
that they can be tucked away safely
on Sunday night until the restaurant
opens again the following week.
A tiny yet important detail: the
restaurant only served one dish –
this soup, in which the minced meat,
pasta, fish, pork roll, spinach and
seaweed salad all floated.
There – a soup, and I indulge in
subjective criticism.
We went for dinner there after
Martin Jay's talk at the Volksbühne,
the People's Theatre. Martin Jay is a
professor at Berkeley, and from what
I could surmise in spite of my
weariness from wandering in Berlin
and his monotonous voice, he
argued that, although history used to
serve as a source of subject-matter
for artists such as David,
contemporary art confines itself to
just a re-enactment of historical
action. As if artists played with tin
soldiers and their work each time
amounted to such a childish,
somewhat obsessive, regressive
recreation of the Battle of Waterloo,
of the Irish Famine or the Abduction
of the Sabine Women, to refer to the
video of the same title that Eve
Sussman produced here in Athens.
Jay's view reminded me a little of the
end-of-history theory, but
nevertheless Volksbühne was a re-
enactment, too. Built in 1914, an old
theatre, appropriated by the Nazis,
appropriated by the Deutsche
Volksrepublik, appropriated by the
wholesale at the Fall of the Berlin
Wall, it is located on the Rosa
Luxemburg Square, two blocks away
from Karl Marx Strasse. As if this
survival of names deactivated their
historical weight, and this
deactivation enabled their
reactivation in turn. But the Biennale,
too, was a re-enactment: all along
the Augustrasse, a street that marked
the city’s visual art life in earlier
decades, history long past was
presented as an exhibit that required
that one kept one's eyes open so as
to distinguish it from the living
present, just like one must keep
one's eyes open in order to tell the
works apart from the spaces
accommodating them. The Old
Jewish Girls School in particular was
like a gigantic objet trouvé, one that
a careless and uninitiated in
contemporary art member of the
municipal council might paint over,
just like the museum guard who
threw away Damien Hirst's ashtray
with cigarette butts. In this respect,Dra
fts
04
this was not a site-specific exhibition
but an exhibition that made an
exhibit out of the specificity of the
location. In other respects, the
Biennale proposed reality as a
commentation of art and art as a
commentation of reality; it possessed
a mellow political thought and
sometimes allowed itself a dark
deviation, easily recognised by all, as
there is a percentage of mental
chaos that is as popularised as any
pop tune. The exhibition, to quote
the programme, "looks at life as a
series of traumas and at art as an
enigma. Anxiety and paranoia, an
impenetratable obscurity and a
looming sense of suspension are
some of the recurring atmospheres
in the show." This description
reminded me for some reason of the
music by the Einsturzende
Neubauten, the Crime and the City
Solution or the Birthday Party,
speaking of Berlin. It is undoubtedly
loud, you can enjoy, brood on or
dance with their morbid urge, as
long as you know that it's all an
adolescence-as-a-state-of-mind
kind of revival.
One of the most interesting stories I
heard in Berlin was that of a work by
Ilias Papailiakis. His exhibition at
Upstairs Gallery was extremely
successful; all the works were sold
but one, I was told. In the series of
appropriated images Papailiakis
draws from classicist painting or
newspaper illustrations, it was the
yellow reproduction of a fist raised
high, once a Soviet officer's gift to
Eric Honegger – the last president of
the Deutsche Volksrepublik. The
work was reserved for purchase by
the City of Berlin Historical Museum
Art Officer, if I remember correctly,
but when the time came for the
purchase to be approved by the
museum’s Board of Trustees, it was
rejected as too political a work.
There are limits to re-enactment, too.
Papailiakis's work was still hanging
on the Upstairs Gallery wall when I
went to see Loukia Alavanou's show.
Two out of four videos had already
been shown in Athens. Out of the
two new ones, I vividly recollect the
Priest's Funeral. This is an original
photograph by Leonidas
Papazoglou. Alavanou's video
unfolds in two distinct times: first,
the photograph is shown as is, then
certain elements are isolated –
scattered puncta: a child's arms, two
hexapteryga, the priest in his coffin –
which Alavanou recomposes, after
having erased the rest of the image,
into an ingenious and often
funny choreography of symbols.
Ilias Papailiakis, Loukia Alavanou,
Yorgos Sapountzis, Dimitris
Tzamouranis in Berlin, and along
with them Harris Kondosphyris at the
Globe City, Newcastle in September
and Cleo Gizeli at Flowers East,
London, also in September; although
we often note the shortcomings in
the Greek visual art field, I often get
the impression that of all areas of
cultural production, contemporary
Greek art has the greatest potential
to claim a niche of its own in the
international dialogue. In Berlin, I
read Christoforos Marinos'
Possibilities, a collection of
interviews with 14 young Greek
artists. The book's greatest virtue is
that by bringing under the same
umbrella artists of different ages,
subject-matter and styles, it unites
them into a single narrative and thus
contributes to the establishment of a
narrative for the young generation in
contemporary Greek art. A single
objection: with the exception of
fleeting references to Lappas and
Drafts
05
Alexiou, and in passim to Kounellis
and Manetas, it looks as if none of
the Greek artists needs any
connection to the Greek reality to be
made – not of course as a reiteration
of clichés, but as the negotiation of
formative experiences, narratives,
relationships, allusions. There is, so
to speak, the danger that liberation
from clichés may cause their re-
enactment – through the back door,
as it were.
Th. Tramboulis
Art Athina
Now that Art Athina is about to
change its form, I remembered an
incident that happened some years
ago. To go to Art Athina I shared a
cab from Vassilisis Sofias Avenue. On
the back seat, there was an elegant
middle-aged lady, whom I was
watching through the passenger side
mirror, and, as far as I could tell, she
was watching me, too. She was so
well-dressed with her face so
attractively aged and had managed
to cross her legs all too gracefully
given the limited leg room that long
before we reached the junction with
Katehaki Avenue I made a point to
tell the driver my destination
with the secret hope of her
enthusiastically exclaiming of the
encounter that what a coincidence
for she also headed to the Art Athina
and then ask me what my name was
in case she knew me and so on and
so forth. Still, if she were to say even
a word of the above, the image of
her wise and accumulated over the
years elegance would be spoiled,
and thus, having realized the
incongruous of my expectations, I
turned anew to the side mirror lest I
could discern an insensible sign of
surprise and silent praise. To make a
long story short, she got off with me
at Floca Café, I was about to say just
at Goody’s fast food restaurant, but
this would not suit her, and I let her
get past me so that I could watch
her walk in the elevated manner of
the person who feels that in two
minutes they will be among their
pairs, even if, momentarily, she
would have to forbear the useless
clamour of the crowd. It goes
without saying that throughout the
big crush of the night, among
scrimmages between strangers and
cuddles with acquaintances, I tended
to stumble across her here and there,
talking to an artist, eating peanuts
and chattering vivaciously with a
gallerist or running into old foreign
acquaintances of hers, Germans or
Austrians, that I could not tell. In any
case, I made sure that I stayed close
to her to keep the sense of the
Oedipus complex of the love of art
that was lurking in the air alive.
As far as the actual event was
concerned, I met, from the right end
of the entrance and moving towards
the back of the venue: an artist
talking about his new born daughter;
somebody who compared the
exhibits with those of the recent
Biennial; a photographer who, as I
had found out some time ago, was
my classmate in primary school; a
former lover; the old lover of a
girlfriend; writers; a kid who
attempted to mount the sculptures;
a relief print located near the fire
exit; and several well-off mothers
with their daughters, some of whom
were so pretty that one would only
assume that all those years of their
parents’ artistic preoccupation with
beauty had left their marks on their
offspring’s genes, whilst others were
so ungraceful that one would be
tempted to deduce that, no doubt,
their parents liked Arte Povera.
Regarding the exhibits, I noticed that
Drafts
06
the ones that were in glazed frames
were much appreciated, as they
allowed the visitors to mirror
themselves along with the work that
became a background to their
likeness, perhaps sensing that this
unique overlap of their face with
contemporary art was what
singularly justified the presence of
the former and gave full meaning to
the latter.
Th.Tramboulis
Faith in the middle of the ocean
A lot has been said recently about
the existence (or not) of a New Greek
Art Scene sometimes related to that
which emerged in Britain during the
early nineties or other art scenes that
have claimed and legitimized a title
like the ones in Glasgow and Berlin.
And although it seems almost a joke
to compare what is happening in
Greece right now with what has
been created by certain national
mechanisms with a clear purpose the
discussion remains. Most people
argue that a ‘scene’ is not the
appropriate term to describe the
local dynamism and that it does not
really exist. However, no one can
really argue that nothing is
happening. It is like when something
is born and there is this moment of
awkwardness when you have to
describe it and finally name it for the
first time.
With the existing terms being so
heavily ‘pregnant’ a new terminology
has to be invented in order to
describe what is happening today in
Greece. But this is even more difficult
and not many people are prepared
to name it. The reason may be that
usually such terms are constructed.
They are the products of institutional
decisions, part of a bigger plan
related to politics about
contemporary art. And this nameless
condition is definitely not a product
of organized consensus and does not
illustrate a national decision to
support contemporary art.
If one attempts to describe it, one
could argue that it is new but that
this has nothing to do with age. It is
more an attitude than a scene. A
new attitude that expresses the need
to approach things in a different
way. Firstly, understand the reasons
for which we have been left out. And
then find and many times create the
frameworks in order to inverse that.
All these without any ‘legal’ support.
The basis for all these is faith. Faith in
the cultural producers and the work
that is being produced here. A faith
which is not yet shared by the
existing institutions. United by
similar goals, a sense of
responsibility and the need to create
better conditions for both present
and future, people working today
sometimes use rather ‘unorthodox’
methods, entirely legal but quite off-
beat. For the immediate future one
needs to find existing frameworks
and integrate. In the long run one
tries to create or help towards the
creation of new frameworks.
The need to integrate is a very
strong driving force. And it is the
case that in Greece when we discuss
the existence or not of a local art
scene we refer to people of the same
nationality. Most countries that have
attempted and succeeded in
establishing a national identity have
invested a lot in the multicultural
element of this identity. In Greece
one feels a citizen of the world but if
confined to the local scene one is
working with people of the same
nationality with similar experiences
and attitudes.
Drafts
07
Inevitably one feels as if working in a
vacuum in the middle of an ocean,
isolated and unable to communicate
with the rest of the world. This
isolation would be somehow
understandable if our cultural
production was extremely site
specific, untranslatable and focused
on the Greek public. Or else, if there
was a balance between production
and consumption and a very strong
and sustainable local market with its
own rules. But of course this is not
the case. Such balance does not exist
and in reality most contemporary
cultural production is neither
directed towards nor consumed by
the local market. Most cultural
producers are constantly moving
trying to find the frameworks that do
not exist here. And the reality is that
the market is elsewhere and the
rules are not created by us.
Unavoidably the local market which
is strong but small is influenced by
an international system as value is
formulated by what is happening
elsewhere. And this elsewhere
is very close to us.
The need to integrate to existing but
foreign frameworks and institutions
has less to do with the fact that one
does not wish to be here and more
with the fact that we have not yet
managed to create the frameworks
and institutions that will allow other
people to come here. The
establishment of such conditions
needs time and planning. One needs
to invest and believe that such an
investment is needed. That more
people than those directly involved,
are to profit from such an
investment.
L.Alimantiri
Drafts
Giorgos Hadjimichalis talks
to Asteropi Lazaridou about
his participation in Venice
Biennale, the relations
between Greek and
International art scene and
Piet Mondrian
Gio
rgo
sH
ad
jim
ich
ali
s
CO
UR
TE
SY
: B
ER
NIE
R/E
LIA
DE
S G
AL
LE
RY
09
Giorgos Hadjimichalis: from
Hospital to the mind of Piet
Mondrian. One only has to take
Freud’s theory that "a person’s home
is the mirror of their psychological
make-up" a little further to state that
an artist’s workshop is their most
representative work: a constantly
changing work in progress that will
never be complete. Enthralled by
the personality of Piet Mondrian
(1872-1944), and having shown his
composition Hospital at the 51st
Venice Biennale and again recently
at Athens’ Benaki Museum, Giorgos
Hadjimichalis is experimenting,
taking the works and the words of
the great Dutch Suprematist as his
starting point. His show at the
Bernier-Eliades gallery consists of
three sections: a
construction/reconstruction of
Mondrian’s New York studio (the
artist tended to work in spaces
reminiscent of installations, playing
with various geometric shapes and
colours on the walls); a DVD
analyzing/reading Mondrian’s
famous painting Broadway Boogie-
Woogie (1942-43) with the help of
music and mathematical precision;
and four drawings which, as the
Greek artists notes, made him
overcome past taboos on what a
painting can be.
Were you satisfied with thetransfer of Hospital from theVenice Biennale to the BenakiMuseum?
The work was set up differently at
the Benaki, and it worked. The
Benaki’s concept of exhibiting works
from the Biennale for the Greek
public is a very good one; of course,
it could show more: works from Sao
Paolo, for example. People feel the
need to stay in touch with what is
going on abroad, which explains the
increased attendance at the
exhibition.
How do you operate at your ownshows? Do you like looking at thecrowd looking at your work?
I am interested in the public’s
reactions to my works, but I’m not
obsessive about it. If I’m spotted in
the exhibition space or asked who
the artist is and introduce myself, I
enjoy guiding people round the
exhibits and explaining my
perspective.
Conceptual art leaves infinitescope for interpretation. Where doyou stand?
I try to make my works crystal clear
from a conceptual point of view, to
really show what I show. I want my
titles to lead the viewer directly into
the story I want to tell.
Titles are now something of ararity. More and more artists areleaving their works "untitled"…
For me, titles are a very important
business. As I see it, only abstract art
has no need of them, and even
that’s debatable. Imagine a book
without a title; could that ever work?
What about young artist: howwould you say they weredeveloping?
The new generation will_when,
touch wood, the National Museum
of Contemporary Art (EMST) is up
and running-be in a position to
travel beyond Greece’s borders and
show their work abroad. Which
means I am very optimistic indeed
about how things are going to be in
Greece. The younger generation has
tried to bring about change. So if
the Museum operates properly-
instituting the necessary foreign
GiorgosHadjimichalis
Hospital, installation view
CO
UR
TE
SY
: B
ER
NIE
R/E
LIA
DE
S G
AL
LE
RY
11
exchanges, establishing a firm basis
for collaboration with museums
abroad, and thus bringing a playing
field into being on which the ‘ball’
can come and go-we will at last be
able to hope.
Would you say there was a senseof rivalry between the older andyounger generations of Greekartists?
I’ve never sensed anything like that;
there might be people who feel that
way about me, but I can’t know that.
That the galleries remain ‘out of
bounds’ to young artists remains a
key issue. That said, it was a
hundred times more difficult to get
your work exhibited in my day, as
there are now several ‘open-minded’
galleries-smaller ones, but at least
four, like "Breeders", that are
established players on the Athenian
scene_that are willing to open their
doors to younger artists. The EMST
has also included young artists in
exhibitions of its acquisitions, and
that’s something. There could have
been more, but I imagine the
situation will improve with time.
What are the ‘scourges’ ofcontemporary art in Greece?
The problem in Greece is the
absence of institutions capable of
staying in touch with what is going
on in Europe. The EMST has taken
45 years longer than it should have
to materialize, and most Greek
collectors only buy foreign works,
which means that the domestic art
market is too weak to support
domestic art production.
How do you explain this ‘maniafor all things foreign"?
I’ll give you an example: Spyros
Papaloukas is a very fine artist
whose work can be compared with
anything produced in Europe, and
indeed the world. No one seems to
recognize that. Put a view like that
in print, and it could influence
opinions and become accepted
wisdom first in Greece and then
internationally; fail to do so, and it
cannot. Because Greek art historians
didn’t learn about Papaloukas from
their foreign professors, they
consider him inferior to, for
example, Bonnard. I have written
about the Greek painter in question,
stating, among other things, that he
is an outstanding artist who has
been consigned to the Greek
fringes, because the people who put
him there think like provincials.
That’s how they work; they can’t do
otherwise with the brains they have.
Not just in the arts; generally. They
don’t respect themselves. Greek
society has no self-respect. And
when a society does not respect
itself, the same will be true of the
arts-there’s no avoiding it.
There’s a general sense of thingshappening out of phase inGreece…
People still come out with the old
chestnut that "Greek artists are ten
to fifteen years behind the
foreigners", but that’s their own
invention; it’s their nonsense. Greek
artists aren’t behind anyone. If
anyone or anything’s ‘retarded’, it’s
them. I mean, what model was
Papaloukas copying, or Kontoglou?
In what way was Tsarouchis
‘behind’? And that’s a real thorn in
the side of contemporary Greek art;
that it has never had anything
approaching even middling support
from the art critics and their
atrocious reading of modern Greek
GiorgosHadjimichalis
Three Works for Piet Mondrian, installation view
CO
UR
TE
SY
: B
ER
NIE
R/E
LIA
DE
S G
AL
LE
RY
13
art. Of course, it’s not the only thorn.
There’s the absence, too, of
institutions capable of projecting
works beyond Greece’s borders, the
limited number of collectors, most
of whom consult experts from
abroad, meaning they buy foreign
works, and so on. Of course, there
are exceptions, but they are few and
far between.
You often talk about the beneficialqualities of public space on artworks. Are there such spacesnowadays?
Everything is very clearly defined
nowadays. The encouraging thing is
that people now flock to
contemporary art exhibitions, which
essentially means that museums are
the public spaces of our times. The
public space par excellence today is
exhibition space. Of course, there
are also works in banks, and let’s not
forget the very fine work done in
the Athens Metro; especially Nikos
Kessanlis’ The Queue in Omonoia
station, which is a stupendous work!
With Hospital, you initiated adialogue between art and life;indeed, in Venice, your work led tothe operation of a team ofvolunteer blood donors.
I’m still very much focused on that
dialogue. As I see it, the term
‘political work’ has been turned on
its head in recent years. While any
extroverted work with a hefty dose
of propaganda was considered
political in the early 20th century, a
genuinely ‘thoughtful’ work is today
a profoundly personal work.
Meaning that quite the opposite
now holds. The works which,
flooding the marketplace, describe
themselves as political are actually
consumer goods. World apart from
profound political thought, they call
to mind advertising slogans and
deal in obvious symbolisms and
clichés. In today’s visual arts, it is the
personal works_works that can
bring forth an extant social problem,
a human problem, a mental
state_that constitute the genuine
political act. The viewer can take a
piece of every artist’s truth.
What did you get from the viewersat the Biennale?
Some pretty powerful stuff went
down. Older people were especially
moved by Hospital, while younger
generations examined it from a
more aesthetic perspective.
Would you say there were Greekartists who are treated as thoughthey were infallible?
There are some artists whose
reputations far outstrip their
abilities; I think everyone knows who
they are. We’re talking about a
group of artists who enjoy the
recognition of the public, who have
now acquired considerable fortunes,
and whose duds are not only
forgiven; they’re snapped up for
outrageous sums!
What is inspiration’s mostformidable foe?
Idleness! The act of working gives
rise to endless ideas. Every work
brings another ten concepts into
being, and you have to decide
which one you are going to realize.
I’m not embarrassed to say I have a
lot of ideas, that they’re ‘difficult’,
and that I don’t know if I’ll have the
time to render them.
You are a conceptual artist, yetyou’ve never rejected painting…
I’m a painter, and I use painting a lot
in my Mondrian exhibition. I put
GiorgosHadjimichalis
Three Works for Piet Mondrian, installation viewC
OU
RT
ES
Y: B
ER
NIE
R/E
LIA
DE
S G
AL
LE
RY
15
GiorgosHadjimichalis
every medium to my own personal
use, whatever it takes to illustrate
the story I want to tell. The
‘dialogue’ with Mondrian gave me a
lot; it spurred me on to create works
that liberated me from my taboos
on what a work of art can be.
What was it that fascinated youmost about Mondrian?
He’s a figure who puzzled me for a
long time. Ever since I was a boy, he
left me nonplussed. Although I like
his work, I didn’t understand what it
was I liked about it and why.
Growing up, I came to grasp
Mondrian’s importance and decided
to delve further. I started studying
his texts and thought about
reconstructing his studio. Which is
more or less how my relationship
with him was born. I’d been thinking
for years about how Broadway
Boogie-Woogie could be ‘read’. And
I was bowled over by his
optimism/ambition, his belief that
through an artistic
movement_Suprematism--he could
change society. It may sound naïve
today, but it’s nice to think that an
artistic genius believed something
like that. That a particular moral
stance could allow us to live in a
better world. Of course, he could
never have imagined that decades
later, his famous Composition with
red, black, blue, yellow and grey
(1920) would be the trade-mark of
L’OREAL, a cosmetics company.
Which may well be the epitome of
tragic irony! ·.
What is the actual use value
of Visions 06 in the
discursive field of
contemporary Greek art,
wonders Alexandra
Moschovi
Ro
om
s to
le
t
Le
da
Pa
tta
, A
ng
el
the
Str
ipp
er.
CO
UR
TE
SY
: L
ED
A P
AT
TA
17
Rooms to let
"Please don’t queue. I’m telling
you, there’s nothing going on in
this room. At least, nothing that is
different from real life", the actor
Dimitris Lignadis informs an
enthusiastic swarm of visitors (or
fans?) who cluster outside his
room. It is the preview of the
exhibition Visions 06 and the
Imperial Hotel in Metaxourgio is
buzzing as art cognoscenti,
celebrities, spouses, siblings and
friends call in to see new (or
supposedly new) works by the 40
artists and 30 curators that have
occupied the hotel’s rooms. There
is heavy traffic in the corridor;
people flock chattering merrily,
catching up or networking, hugs
and cuddles, handshakes and
passing smiles, while a fairly
unpleasant mélange of designer
perfumes, aftershave and G&T
scents the air. Decisively squeezing
one’s way through, or patiently
joining different queues, one gets
eventually to peep into the rooms;
given the circumstances, encounter
has come to substitute for scrutiny
here. Besides, showmanship (and
salesmanship if one were to be
bluntly cynical) rather than the love
of art as such is what brings most
of us to this well-orchestrated
festive ballyhoo.
The drive behind this event, an
initiative of the Kappatos Gallery
that dates back to 1998, was, we
are told, to widen the local
audience for contemporary art. This
is undeniably a noble cause and if
high attendance figures were to be
considered the best performance
indicator of the effectiveness of
such a venture then undoubtedly
the event has been a great success.
But is this what one means by
widening? Is it all about physical
accessibility, that is, making art
available to the "masses" as Walter
Benjamin would have it? Or is it
equally about conceptual
accessibility, a long-term and as
such more difficult endeavour, so
that art, and contemporary art
more so, is actually understood by
the "masses"?
The gradual shift towards the
populist model has been as much a
practical necessity for art museums
that had to make ends meet
without depending on the public
purse as it was a consequence of
the turn towards multiculturalism
in social and cultural theory in the
1980s. Against this context, and
aiming to reinvigorate the 1970s
discussion about "cultural
democracy" and
representativeness, the
postmodern museological
discourse sought to mark a
departure from the exclusive model
of the modernist art institution,
emphasising the urgency of
turning the museum into a
"multiperspectivalist" discursive
space.1 Often compared to "Las
Vegas show razzmatazz" or
"supermarket consumer culture",
particularly when excessive
imagineering and branding is
involved, this new "demotic" profile
has nonetheless been effective in
expanding and amalgamating the
museum audiences. Terry Bennett
argues that just as the newly
established nineteenth-century
museum validated its institutional
credentials by distancing its
ordered and rational display from
the popular cultural surroundings
Marc Hatzipateras, installation view
CO
UR
TE
SY
: K
AP
PA
TO
S G
AL
LE
RY
19
of the circus, the traveling
exhibition, and the fair, so the
postmodern museum, with its
mixing of elite and popular
audiences, emulates the ideological
rhetoric of the fair and the
amusement park.2 Hilde S. Hein
explains that what accounts for the
success of the exhibits in the new
museum is the prime experience of
the "customer/visitor", their
"evocation of imaginative truth as
present truth".3
Showmanship and shock have
proved to be most effective in
capturing the public imagination:
sensation (as was the title of the
homonymous Royal
Academy/Charles Saatchi
exhibition of YBAs in London in
1997), immediacy, fetishisation of
the new, deadpan, kitchen-sink
realism and spectacle that draws,
more often than not, on the
"popular gothic" have now become
synonymous with up-to-the-minute
contemporary art. And so has the
media hype: it was the blaze of
publicity that controversial Turner
Prize nominations such as Damien
Hirst’s dissected cow and child and
Tracey Emin’s bed and sexual
ephemera generated that
established the YBA’s in the
popular picturesque in Britain on a
par with J.M.W. Turner and Lucian
Freud.
Some claim that this is exactly the
kind of boost that Greek art needs
if it is to blossom in Greece: to
acquire an established history and
stardom in order to become part of
the popular consciousness, (or
rather, part of the mainstream
lifestyle, some argue). But how an
ambitious project such as Visions
06 may attract a largely
uninstructed and fairly indifferent
public? Is spectacle and the
publicity brouhaha the best (if not
the only) course? Could
popularisation avoid
"blandification" and "dumbing
down"?
Gerassimos Kappatos decided to
spice up the opening evening with,
what later proved to be, one-off
performances by Dimitiris Lignadis
and his team, Themis Bazaka, the
Enniamorpho dance group, Leda
Patta and the Bosnian Jusuf
Hadzifejzovic, whose shaving off at
the hotel’s lobby was supposed to
be among the highlights of the
opening. Unsurprisingly, given
their theatrical background, their
performances had morphological
affinities with performance art (that
is, the practice that developed as a
reaction to traditional theatre in
the 1950s and 1960s) rather than
art perfomance, which originates
from within the visual arts. And
although a knowledgeable
onlooker (equally armed with good
will) could possibly see the
parallels drawn with the repertoire
of the cabaret (the combination of
prose, poetry, naturalistic songs,
dance, pantomime, interaction with
the audience, the vaudeville and
the burlesque no less), these
performances were but narcissistic
sweet nothings, being largely
incomprehensible, and far from
intellectually challenging or even
amusing. To play the role of the
philistine here, how (and most
importantly why) should one make
sense, for instance, of a group of
young men who, wearing paper
masks with Lignadis’s face, jumped
Rooms to let
Themis Bazaka, installation view
CO
UR
TE
SY
: K
AP
PA
TO
S G
AL
LE
RY
21
up and down in the room as if in
Dionysian ecstasy whilst the artist
recited poems by Kafavis? Does the
fact that these are well-established
performers justify both the end
and the means? And visitors did
wonder what this was all about:
"Shame on you!", "What the f… is
going on in here?", read some of
the comments that visitors wrote
on the wall in Bazaka’s room.
And even if one were to claim that
the experience, the medium that is,
is indeed the message here,
whoever has visited the exhibition
after the opening could only
"experience" the performances on
video, which, of course, defies the
very nature of the performance as
an event that "is physically realised
before an audience".4 Thus, despite
the fact that the simulated
environment of the strip bar
remains largely unchanged, Leda
Patta’s performance as Angel the
Stripper, albeit not particularly
inspired in the first place, cannot
have the same effect when
experienced as a video piece. It is
highly unlikely that the elderly man
who watched the performance live
with his overtly put-off wife would
have the same teenage grin at the
sight of the artist rhythmically
unzipping her dress. "Does the
presence of Angel denote an
absence?" Patta asks in the
accompanying text. It certainly
does; it denotes an absence of
reflection. And this, I’m afraid,
applies to most of the
contributions to the exhibition.
The fact that only few artists and
curators seemed to have seriously
taken into account that this was
meant to be a site specific show
and not a conventional white cube
display is most telling. Such a
setting would have been an
excellent opportunity to challenge
the repertoire of the invisible
qualities and their intertextual
relations that define the
"metamorphosis" of objects into
works of art in different viewing
contexts and leave the white cube
modes of displays and their
paraphernalia behind. But few
seem to ask what it means to show
one’s work in a luxury hotel that is
located in the still derelict, red light
district of Athens? In her video
installation, Lydia Andrioti has
attempted to point, alas in passing
and fairly idiosyncratically, to the
particularities of the locality, and
the ethics of prostitution more
specifically, as has Despina Stokou
who painted the urban landscape
and the inhabitants of the
surrounding area. But how about
the venue itself as a commercial
space associated with consumer
leisure? To turn a room upside-
down (Erinç Seymen) as, we
assume, an act of domestification
or to cram it with colourful IKEA
products to an extent that it
becomes utterly kitsch (Mark
Xatzipateras) may be hints, but
these too only go half way; they do
not, in effect, overcome
aestheticisation.
Overall, there are no surprises here;
no high spirited efforts, no
enthusiasm. The eloquent
accompanying texts in the
catalogue do manage to built up
expectations if read before visiting
the exhibition, but prove to be
wishful thinking, if not sophistries,
once you enter the rooms. With the
Rooms to let
Gianna Nikolopoulou, installation view
CO
UR
TE
SY
: K
AP
PA
TO
S G
AL
LE
RY
23
Rooms to let
exception of the contributions of
Zheng Guogu, Liang Shuo and
Zhang Yuan that looked into the
ideological, social, and cultural
contradictions in modern China,
much of what is on display is, time
and again, "self-contained" but not
exactly self-sufficient "art for art’s
sake". What else could the
ballroom dress made of sanitary
towels be?
The fairground frenziness of the
opening night brings to mind
Disneyland; not in the sense that
this was a theme park like event
where art appreciation mingled
with spectacle, interactivity, and
entertainment, but that it was a
simulation in all its respects. "To
dissimulate is to feign not to have
what one has. To simulate is to
feign to have what one hasn’t. One
implies a presence, the other an
absence", Baudrilliard wrote in the
1980s.5 Although Gerassimos
Kappatos should be given credit
for his merit in single-handedly
organising such an event, it leads
nowhere to feign what we do not
have, that is, as we all know, an art
scene proper. And no matter how
elaborately artists and wannabe
artists eager to become the home-
grown YBA’s (or rather YGA’s),
recently repatriated curators and
critics appropriate the mannerisms,
style, and even dressing code of
their European counterparts in
their khaki military jackets and
charity-shop like outfits, it is not
enough. And, what is more, it
misses the point. It just presents
"our imaginative truth as present
truth" and spares us the trouble of
dealing face to face with "the
reality principle."6
The exhibition Visions 06, organized by the
Kappatos Gallery, was held at the Athens
Imperial Hotel (Palteia Karaiskaki,
Metaxourgeio) from April 3 to April 19 2006
1 Hilde S. Hein, The Museum in Transition: A
Philosophical Perspective (Washington:
Smithsonian Institution Press, 2000), p. 45.
2 Terry Bennett, The Birth of the Museum:
History, Theory Politics (London/New York:
Routledge, 1995), pp. 6-7 and 102-5.
3 Hein, op. cit., p. 62.
4 Dennis Kennedy (ed.), The Oxford
Encyclopaedia of Theatre and Performance,
vol. I, A-L (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2003), p. 1019.
5 Jean Baudrillard, “Simulacra and Simulations”
(1983) included in Mark Poster (ed.), Jean
Baudrillard: Selected Writings (Stanford, 1988),
p. 171
6 ibid., p. 175·.
Art
cri
tici
sm a
nd
art
pro
du
ctio
n i
n p
ost
-wa
r G
ree
ce
Anny Malama returns to the
exhibition on the 70’s
generation and points out
some indicative episodes
before the "defiance" in the
history of Greek post-war art
Th
od
oro
s, W
ith
ou
t S
ub
ject
, 1
97
4
LE
ON
IDA
S B
EL
TS
IOS
’ C
OL
LE
CT
ION
25
In May 1953, Spyros Vasileiou
showed a set of works entitled Works
in tempera and water-colours, 1950-
53 at the Vima Gallery.
The exhibition garnered praise across
the board–which was probably par
for the course then as far as the Press
response to Vasileiou's work was
concerned_and earned "a record
amount", bearing in mind that by
May 20, "28 works, to which must be
added a number of commissions
received by the distinguished artist
from numerous art lovers" had
already been sold (Achilleas Mamakis,
Ethnos, 20/05/1953).
At the same time, a brief_though
enlightening–exchange between the
art critic Giorgos Petris and the artist
Alekos Kontopoulos was sparked off
by a review the former had published
in the Avgi on May 21, 1953.
Petris’ perspicacious comments
certainly capture the aesthetic
signature of Vasileiou the artist, who,
equipped with the visual vocabulary
of ‘tradition’, enjoys a successful
career on the verges of an ‘easy’
genre style which yields attractive
results, though without making any
attempt at a critical appraisal of the
life of the people:
"Vasileiou’s work gives us a lesson in
good taste. But about the life flowing
relentlessly all around us he says
nothing. Will this artist persist in
appraising the aesthetic significance
of the things around him, or will the
day come when he resolves to get in
there amongst them and see what
lies hidden beneath his harmonious
surfaces?" (G. Petris, "Vasileiou’s
painting", Avgi, 21/05/1953.
In turn, Kontopoulos sent a letter
published in the Avgi on 03/06/1953
that seeks to respond to Petris’
position apropos an artist like
Vasileiou, who "constitutes a case any
assessment of which, quite apart
from his art, is representative of the
modus operandi and tactics of a large
part of our cultural scene", seizes the
opportunity to put the stereotypes of
Greekness under the microscope, but
chiefly defends abstract art in terms
of form and content, his argument
centring on an artwork’s right to be
self-referential, since "in conclusion, a
work’s formal composition is
undoubtedly the criterion against
which its quality can be gauged".
So Petris was justified in returning to
the issue (Avgi, 16/06/1953) and
rightfully pointing out that "nothing
is closer to the dogma of pure Art
than the view that a work will be
judged by its form". And he very
rightly goes on to argue that "his
(Kontopoulos’) views are in essence
no different from those I saw applied
in Vasilieou’s work".
Though they aroused little interest at
the time, the questions posed within
the above exchange (and which are
also dimly discernible in the episodes
described below) are–strangely
enough–precisely those that shaped
the quests of a dominant aesthetic
based on good taste in post-war
Greece (too), and played a central
role in determining the directions
taken by art production in the given
market.
Questions that seem to succeed in
providing satisfactory descriptions of:
a) the extent to which art production
in Greece was to be held
back_irrespective of period–by art
criticism which, even on those (few)
occasions when it seems to be laying
claim to living space for innovative
proposals, undermines itself as the
product of an entrenched and
introverted intelligentsia (exactly as
Christos Chomenides describes in the
April edition of · which can only
function in a sphere limited ab initio;
and
b) the degree to which, starting in
the late Fifties and growing more
Art criticism and art productionin post-war Greece
Kostas Tsoklis, Informations, 1972,
CO
UR
TE
SY
: N
AT
ION
AL
MU
SE
UM
OF
MO
DE
RN
AR
T
27
extreme in the years that followed in
relation to the problematics
emerging in Europe and the US, the
issues raised by Greek artists in their
work failed to correspond with either
their country’s singular social and
political state or the production,
operation and reception horizon of
their works.
More specifically, the arts scene in
Athens during the Fifties was
‘justified’ with presentations abroad
that–as ever–sought recognition in
Western eyes; welcomed publications
describing the "powerful
reverberations of Cézanne’s art fifty
years on" in the work of Greek artists,
who primarily "start out from their
magnificent national heritage" (Le
Droit, Ottawa, 25/11/1953); patted
itself on the back with titles like "The
Greek art exhibition in Chicago a
resounding success: opening
ceremony televised!"; heaped praise
on Yugoslavian artists_works by
whom were shown in Zappeion in
May 1953–because they also
"constitute an admirable attempt at
rendering the national character of
people and things" (Ethnos,
13/05/1953), though hushing up the
obvious similarities with Greece as
any comparison with the Balkans was
considered demeaning; hosted "a
travelling exhibition of woodcuts
organized by the International
Programme of New York’s Museum of
Modern Art" (Ethnos, 23/04/1958);
noted the interest of a well-known
American businessman in purchasing
Greek artworks (Ta Nea, 16/08/1955);
makes much of Spyropoulos’ contract
with a New York gallery (Ta Nea,
12/02/1957), though when worried,
as "the works being sent abroad do
not represent the modern Greek
reality", wonders "what do they want
today, abroad, from painting" (Nea
Grammi, 15/02/1957).
In other words, gathered here are the
salient characteristics of a provincial
art market integrated into given
spheres of political and economic
influence; of course, it is also a
reflection of the unwholesome
atmosphere of the post-war state.
Nor is it devoid of significance that
abstraction suddenly ‘came into
fashion’ and accounted for an ever-
increasing market share, nor that
powerful names in art criticism such
as A. Prokopiou strove to ‘convert’
the public in line with Greenberg’s
theories. One only has to consider
the manner in which Prokopiou
reproached the local Guggenheim
award committee (D. Evangelides, K.
Pangalos, M. Hadjidakis) in the
summer of 1958 for selecting an
artist like G. Gounaropoulos when, in
his opinion, only Spyropoulos, or
Vasileiou "thanks to the high quality
surrealist nature of his works", could
have hoped to earn distinctions "in
the prevailing modern art climate of
New York and the Guggenheim
Museum".
When Vlassis Caniaris first showed his
work at the Zygos gallery in May
1958, one can only be impressed by
just how effectively the sum total of
reviews relating to his work’s
potential, which in his case was in no
way limited to the unhitching of the
creative process from the
conventions and rules of a figurative
composition, served to invalidate the
exhibition. In fact, it was primarily the
positive reviews (by E. Vakalo, A.
Provelengios, A, Prokopiou, M.
Hadjidakis) that reduced the political
character of his works to nothing,
while the exhibition’s critics (M.
Garides writing in the Avgi, and M.
Zografou in the Anexartitos Typos)
approach the collection in historical
terms without invalidating it (though
persisting with barbs of another
Art criticism and art production inpost-war Greece
Yorgos Lazogas, Palempsiston, 1979
PH
OT
O : Y
AN
NIS
VA
CH
AR
IDIS
AN
D O
DY
SS
EA
S V
AC
HA
RID
IS
29
Art criticism and art production inpost-war Greece
kind). No one would seem to have
grasped the essence of his work at a
time when Caniaris himself, in an
interview he gave Tachydromos
(31/05/1958), shows himself to have
been sufficiently clear and
illuminating with regard to his aims.
A question that has been asked many
times (and has led on several
occasions to interesting discussions)
concerns whether art criticism and art
production in Greece have ever
actually touched upon the principles
of ‘genuine modernism (‘genuine or
not, the term ‘modernism’ is
problematic in any case when used
with reference to Greek art) and
avant-garde trends. And if this did
occur in the post-war period (as
suggested), how post-war was it?
Of course, the question mark does
not relate to specific superficial (or
otherwise) references to
morphological innovations and
stylistic coinages, but to the
fundamental issue of (re)uniting art
with life and historical reality.
Even in those cases when the urge to
depict a socio-political climate
intensifies in the work of the artists of
the post-war diaspora, breaking free
of the confines of decorative genre
and national-mythologizing
extensions-the three proposals for a
new Greek sculpture show staged by
Caniaris, Kessanlis and Danil in 1964
being the classic example/turning
point_to what extent would the
readings of the works accord with the
climate of change?
It should be remembered that during
this same period, intellectuals of
Karouzos and Andronikos’ ilk were
hard at work trying to prove the
Greek origins of abstraction.
Press announcements and critical
pieces relating to the reception of the
Panathenian Sculpture exhibition of
1965–the international modern
sculpture show (conceived with a
view to its later becoming a biennale)
organized by the Greek Tourist Board
and the Ministry of Education as part
of the Athens Festival–pursued the
same line. The proffered readings of
the exhibition, even that of its chief
organizer, T. Spiteris, emphatically
state the special weight of the place
where the works were displayed-
Philopappos Hill, in the shadow of the
Acropolis_while insisting on a linear,
historicist approach to the material,
with ancient Greek art as its starting
point.
So when, five years later in 1970,
Theodoros was to compile his
"instructions for use" in the catalogue
for the Sculpture for public
participation-participation forbidden
exhibition/event (appended to the
Anthology of Texts in the catalogue
for the EMST’s The Years of Defiance-
The Art of the ‘70s in Greece
exhibition), and noted inter alia:
"DON’T TOUCH THE ART-WORKS
because:
a) they are destined for museums and
collections_places where DURATION,
the prefabricated everlastingness of
art, is verified and ensured.
b) the art-works are for sale-they are a
commodity, a luxury consumer good-
do not destroy them, do not harm the
artist! (mercy)",
he would appear totally in synch with
the questions and issues being posed
in Europe and America.
But which museum could he be
referring to, when the National
Gallery was housed in private
premises in the Athens of 1972, and
would have to wait another three
Spyros Vasileiou, Memorabilium from Aegina, 1952
CO
UR
TE
SY
: S
PY
RO
S V
AS
ILE
IOU
MU
SE
UM
31
Art criticism and art production inpost-war Greece
years to acquire its own code in the
Greek budget? And moreover, which
and how many could those-even
private-collections be (and in Athens
alone) that could ensure the
verification of the unique nature of
works of art?
In reality, the artists of the "years of
defiance" had to invent the
institutions against which they could
protest, since, in reality, they had
nothing to oppose save the absence
of institutions. The ever-limited
potential of both demand and supply
in the domestic art scene and a
problematic political scene had to
serve as their only points of reference.
Hence, what their work would seem
to record_more clearly than ever
before, thanks to their impressive
synchronization with the issues of the
international artistic reality_is the
participation of a provincial art scene
and its representatives in
developments hatched in the
cosmopolitan centres on an
apparently equal basis that was, in
fact, anything but. And in a way that
reveals just how authoritatively the
prevailing impression of a (purely
fictitious) playing down of differences
can operate.
In other words, anything that can be
considered defiance on the level of
intentions inevitably winds up
manifesting itself as the adoption and
application of an all-embracing,
homogenizing solution. A solution
that proves inadequate, hampered by
its not being determined by the
particular terms of the problem itself.
The exhibition The Years of Defiance: The Art
of the ’70s in Greece, curated by Bia
Papadopoulou was presented by The
National museum of Contemporary Art at the
New Wing of the Athens Hall of Music
·.
Writing about Eva Vretzaki’s
exhibition, Christopher Marinos
points out the exertion of a
forbidden right: identification
with the monster
Th
e A
the
ns
Sh
e-W
ere
wo
lf
CO
UR
TE
SY
: G
AZ
ON
RO
UG
E G
AL
LE
RY
33
The Athens She-Werewolf
Half a century ago, in 1956, Le bainde Diane [Diana at her Bath] by authorand painter Pierre Klossowski waspublished in France. According toMichel Foucault, this peculiar work onshepherd Actaion pursuing thegoddess Artemis and his subsequentturning into a figure with the body ofa dog and the head of a deer, is a textdealing with "a legend and a myth ofdistance" – a distance that does notallow for any familiarity and which, atleast as it was conceived by Foucault,refers to both the main character'simage and author Klossowski'slanguage, who in turn is lost into "theabyss of the semblable". And ifFoucault's view, expressed in 1964,heralded his celebrated essay on the"Death of the Author," published afew years later, Michel Butor's view onKlossowski and the work in question issomewhat more easily assimilated, ifequally substantial: "He seeks systemsof reference which enable him to passjudgment on himself and on theworld around him". This very
monomaniacal appropriation of the"other", the "pretense andconcealment", the game oftransformations, the emphasis on thepsychological connotations of a "text"as well as the author's mutualdependency on his character, andconsequently his semblable, are someof the things invading your mindwhen, now as a spectator, you comeface to face with Eva Vretzaki's works,based on the myth and legend of thewerewolf.
Entitled "Full Moon", Vretzaki's firstsolo exhibition at the Gazon RougeGallery in Athens consists of two units,or "parts" to use the cinematographicparlance. In the first one, whichcomprises two video loops fromacross the room (She werewolf onmountain, 2006 and She werewolf inthe wood, 2006), each separated by aseries of wood bars, we see – or rathermake out fragments of – the artist inthe guise of a werewolf, an encaged(?) monster, which, as we also knowfrom the cinema of the imaginary, is
usually a fetishised product, a kind oftourist attraction for the greedy eyesof the Western, mostly male, art-loving public.
The two videos evoke a hauntingatmosphere of mystery and tension,while also vividly suggesting Romanticpaintings by their stillness. Theidentity of the creature portrayed isnevertheless open to question: is itsapparent apathy the shield that makesit non-spectacular, unapproachable,incomprehensible, ambiguous? Onthe one hand, it seems fragile,melancholy, solitary, and on the otheryou expect it to jump at you anymoment now and give you a taste ofits sharp teeth. On the one hand, theseparation of the gallery and the factthat the viewers are "encaged" furtherintensify the fictional element, and onthe other they suggest the monster'sindependence from its observer'sfragmented gaze. The "from above"and protective "exposure" of thewerewolf-Vretzaki – this "high potencyof a solitary conception" as André
Breton would say – manages to blockoff any superfluous and commonplacefeeling on the viewer's part (mercy,compassion, fun, repulsion) and at thesame time to undermine the panopticcontrol mechanism of a wild soul. Thesuccess of the two videos as well as ofthe installation as a whole lies in thatthe viewer, just like the artist herself,sympathises with the monster, doesnot shy away from it – which is whyhe resembles it. This feeling offamiliarity in a broader context ofestrangement may very well remindone of little Ana, dreaming of meetingand ultimately becoming identifiedwith the cute monster in JamesWhale's "Frankenstein", sensitivelycaptured in Victor Erice's 1973 classicfilm "Spirit of the Beehive".
Naturally, Vretzaki's liberation is not asinnocent as it seems at first. Herjudgment of herself and of the worldaround her – and in this peculiar"world" we should probably includeboth the viewers of Full Moon and the
Videostill
CO
UR
TE
SY
: G
AZ
ON
RO
UG
E G
AL
LE
RY
35
The Athens She-Werewolf
art world in general – is not the mostpositive one. Just like Borges' tigerand Leonora Carrington('s) hyena,Vretzaki('s) werewolf – who operateslike the imaginary semblable andreference system for her – is a fantasy,"symbolizing the quest for a kind ofviolence, whose experience" in hersecure life as an artist – and in oursecure lives as viewers – "was notavailable to her and to us at all". Inother words, these two video worksare nothing but a mental revenge, theexercise of a forbidden right, of asecret, repressed and unwholesomedesire, which operates both ways.
The second part of the exhibitionincludes drawings (Dog Eating Man,Dog Eating Head, Arf, Shadow, Moor)and oil paintings (Mask 2, Bushes) ofwild monsters attacking, ominousshadows, together with self-portraitsof Vretzaki-Werewolf, along with wolfstatuettes inspired by JapaneseNetsuke. Here, Vretzaki adopts, and inmy opinion is completely justified in
doing so, a visual attitude of relativelymore distance with respect to hersubject, in her effort precisely tocapture its various aspects and tohighlight the multidimensionalpersonality of her "semblable". So, if inthe first part there was an evidentneed for identification andjuxtaposition, here one notes theartist's attempt to approach hersubject in a more figurative manner,and therefore using more traditionalmeans. This is because evidently thetransformation is now complete – yousee, the monster has been "liberated"and the mystery solved – and theviewer finds himself facing theultimate outcome of this searchingprocess of self-determination. Thispassage from darkness to light, from ahypnotic dimension to a moreobvious one, from the forcedexperience to the unforcedobservation, initially creates a feelingof domination with respect to theartist. In fact, one momentarily feels
that there is a risk that this
domination – always taking the form
of a clear overview of the artist's
material – turns into embarrassment,
and that Vretzaki tries as hard as she
can to maintain the irresistible
atmosphere and mystery of the first
part. On second thought, naturally,
one justifies the artist's approach, as
one simply becomes aware that this
kind of transition may be the only one
which does justice to an enterprise of
this kind – an enterprise naturally
introverted, hermetically closed, yet
ultimately – and we should not forget
this – terribly human.
The exhibition Full Moon by Eva Vretzaki was
held at the gazonrouge gallery (Victoros
Ougo 15, Metaxourgeio, tel. 210 5248077,
www.gazonrouge.com) between April 13
and May 20 2006.
·.
For the exhibition Tattoo my
Art and the aestheticisation
of the body’s alteration
writes Iliana Fokianaki
Wh
y h
av
e a
ta
tto
o?
CO
UR
TE
SY
: A
.AN
TO
NO
PO
UL
OU
.AR
T
Clo
dia
n L
uk
a
37
First things first. Who would
want to have Mona Lisa or Boogie
Woogie tattooed on their back?
Not only would it look tacky I think
it would border scary…And I am
only saying that because the press
release suggests we think about
those two paintings as tattoos. In
any case, this exhibition at
Antonopoulou Gallery is –if
anything- interesting just by its
theme. It is indeed a very intimate
relationship between our body and
a piece of artwork imprinted on it.
And a great decision as well, no
matter whether you are 16 or not.
This special relationship between
an image and a person suggests a
bond. And as is mentioned in the
text accompanying the exhibition it
is almost as if people with tattoos
are the most fanatic art collectors.
Just think of those people that are
head to toe covered in tattoos.
There are several emerging and
established artists that have
participated in this show, and
although it sounds fairly easy and
straightforward, I suppose it is
difficult to actually begin to work
on something that is purposed to
go on someone’s skin. Possibly,
some of the artists didn’t take that
as seriously, and have produced
interesting yet slightly irrelevant
works. Although Kanarelis drawing
was very good and his reference to
Sol Le Witt was both successful and
interesting, it seemed more of a
drawing that was too afraid to
escape its own identity. Made first
of all under the influence of
symbols (such as the skull) that are
a "cliché" in the tattoo culture, and
secondly with a symbolic
personality/artist/work that is a
"cliché" in another culture that of
art and art history. Therefore, it
seemed as if it was an easy, an
expected correlation.
On the contrary, Eleni Kamma, also
used a very popular shape / symbol
used in tattoo culture, the heart,
but transformed into a whole
different story, still delicate enough
to be transferred onto one’s skin,
still interesting and balanced
enough to stand in its own right as
an intact drawing. Unfortunately,
some artists’ drawings were simply
to naïf to be considered as
drawings that could become
tattoos and looked more like what
one would paint on someone’s skin
with a fell-tip pen. However, most
works presented were very much
focused on what the art historian
Nantia Argyropoulou, has set as the
starting point of this show.
Definitely worth mentioning would
be the works of Katerina
Manolessou, that has a history of
working with popular culture and
imagery since she works for several
magazines in London such as Time
Out, and Rosina Baltatzi, a very
good surprise, a pop yet very
structured proposal. Lastly, I found
the works of Marie Wilson-
Valaoritis very intriguing.
Why have a tattoo?
Yorgos Gyparakis
CO
UR
TE
SY
: A
.AN
TO
NO
PO
UL
OU
.AR
T
39
Why have a tattoo?
I thought it very useful to include
three very good professional
tattoo artists, Yorgos Pawell,
Klodian Luca and Thomas
Grammatikis, since that gave an
original platform for comparison
and understanding of the project
as well having on display texts,
booklets and pamphlets that gave
a good insight into the tattoo
culture.
There is one last thing that I
personally expected to see, in
reflection to my thoughts in the
beginning of this text. When
looking at the works, I expected
them to be slightly more personal
(as a proud owner of a tattoo that
I drew myself). I thought it would
be interesting to see what these
artists would consider
appropriate or desirable to carry
on their body and in many
examples that didn’t seem the
case. That of course, might be my
own misconception in relation to
what a tattoo symbolizes or
rather what it should and the
reality of hearts, dolphins, stars
and other meaningless examples.
Having thought on the matter
deeply –no matter I was 16- I
decided, and still think that a
tattoo is above all a symbol that
is strictly related to the person
bearing it. It is either a
description of an experience, or a
charm with a hidden meaning,
even a memory of your past but
definitely a representation of
something relevant to you. Or in
the worst case scenario the name
of a person you thought would be
under your skin as much as the
tattoo…
The point behind a tattoo and the
connection behind a tattoo and
the human body through an
aesthetic prism, are two vital
concerns posed in this exhibition.
Besides the "spiritual" use of the
tattoo, or its charm like quality in
many cultures such as the
Japanese, Chinese, Indonesian,
Celtic etc there is a simpler and
more contemporary reason for its
existence. It is aesthetically
beautiful, it is a decoration and it
represented (until some years ago
at least) a resistance, and a
specific standpoint when it comes
to class.
There are several issues at stake
here. Primarily, there is the
opinion that the naked body and
its simplicity represent the ideal
beauty, according to the ancient
Greeks. Emmanuel Kant in The
Critique of Judgement refers to
two different kinds of beauty.
Pure Beauty (referring to flowers,
birds, wallpaper etc) and the
adherent beauty (meaning human
beings, buildings, horses) that is
judged based on its purpose.
Commenting on tattoos that he
saw on Maori tribes, he criticizes
them because he considers
human beauty to be adherent
beauty therefore not to be
P.Famelis
CO
UR
TE
SY
: A
.AN
TO
NO
PO
UL
OU
.AR
T
41
Why have a tattoo?
combined or interfered with by
pure beauty (which are the
patterns of Maori tattoo for Kant).
Possibly human beauty is better
judged when it does not carry
any decorations. But if we take
into consideration Kant’s point of
view later on in the text where he
refers to the human beauty as
the ideal beauty, possibly tattoos
ruin this ideal in some way.
This conception about decoration
as harmful in relation to beauty is
also found in architecture with
several architects considering any
kind of decoration as absolutely
damaging for a building (another
adherent form of beauty
according to Kant).
A tattoo then as something
negative and disruptive if not
destructive, has been passed on
in the centuries when suddenly
of late it has been re-discovered
through fashion and mass culture
– it has been until recently a
working-class or an ex-prisoner
characteristic. Even today 95% of
British inmates, have tattoos.
With this exhibition, for me the
most important thought is that it
highlights –however lightly- the
tattoo as an insignia and
decoration that does not mark
shame, drug abuse, illegal
activity or a lower class, but is
now a trend of a post-punk
generation of the middle class,
globally and in Greece. It is not
mere coincidence that many
lifestyle magazines in Athens
have promoted the exhibition…
The exhibition Tattoo my Art curated by
Nadia Argyropoulou is held in
a.antonopoulou.art (20, Aristofanous Str,
Psyrris, tel. 210-3214994) between May 8 and
Juin 20 2006
Bibliography
Berger, John (1977) Ways of Seeing. London:
Penguin.
Kant, Immanuel (1987) Critique of
Judgement. Translation Werner S. Pluhar.
Indianapolis: Hackett.
Scruton, Roger (1979) The Aesthetics of
Architecture. Princeton: Princeton University
Press.·.
Kostas Ioannidis points out a
pop contradiction in the
project Black Tuda that was
presented in Ileana Tounta
Gallery by Apostolos
Zerdevas, Em Kei, Poka-Yio,
Dimitris Foutris and the
group Nethescerial
Yo
ur
Sw
ee
tne
ss i
s M
y W
ea
kn
ess
Bla
ck T
ud
a,
Vid
eo
stil
l.
CO
UR
TE
SY
: I
LE
AN
A T
OY
NT
Aã
S G
AL
LE
RY
43
Your Sweetness isMy Weakness
Reaching the main entrance to
the Ileana Tounta Gallery on
Sunday 14 May, a brief hand-
written note directed you to the
side entrance. You went up the
steps and there you were, you
had already entered the
underground of the event. If you
were to go down the steps
instead, it would have been
even more convincing. Once you
were on the top floor, you came
face to face with the projection
on the wall. You could see four
chaps—apparently the Black
Tuda—all dressed in black, in
gowns and conical hoods
wandering around (on video) in
the empty space of the gallery,
an act that could easily remind
you of the video clip of
Atmosphere by the Joy Division.
They moved in a ritualistic
manner as if they in a religious
procession, high priests of some
rock sect. They also bore, on
their backs, its symbols: a
radiate star, a motif that is often
used by D. Foutris and which
was repeated on one of the
walls.
The fussilade started at 9 o’clock
sharp. ∆he black metal group
Nethescerial appeared on stage
(in actual fact, there was no
stage proper, thus there was an
interesting mingling of the
musicians with the public) with
Black Tuda unobtrusively
accompanying them as part of
the background. The musicians
wore make-up as is usually the
case in their genre in which
posing is part and parcel of the
overall practice. Of epic origins
and intentions, their music is,
no doubt, rhythmic; it can
enchant you, that is, if you can
sustain its excruciating volume.
The cement industrial space
functions as a tight box. It
absorbs nothing and your ears
give in little by little. The singer,
a conscientious theatrical
performer, is constantly posing
firing out gestures and
expressions from a widely
ranging armoury to the public.
The audience seems to go
halves. Few are fans of the
group and of this particular
genre. They participate
employing a certain repertoire
of movements, communicating
directly with the musicians. The
rest of us are a curious and
"progressive" art crowd that
stands still observing the
concert more as a performance.
The form of Black Tuda’s project
was carefully worked out. It was
organized following all the
conventions that characterize
the promotion and presentation
of a concert in the context of
the rock (sub)culture (posters,
flyers, tickets, etc). Besides, the
participants at large share, more
or less, fixities that relate to the
field in question. Still, there was
something in the atmosphere
that made me recall the sense I
have when I watch scenes of
concerts performed by newly
converted Russian heavy metal
musicians or avant-garde
happenings coming from
countries in northeastern
Europe. I thought about it and
concluded that it is, most
probably, the strong intention
to provoke that poses, shouts
and gestures against everything
and everybody, but without the
prerequisite self-sarcasm and
the consciousness that others
have already attempted to do so
in a similar manner. On the
other hand, it may be simply
this: as, from a point onwards,
the music functions
independently from the artistic
part I am eventually inclined to
judge the whole event through
the music. This particular genre
always seemed to me
unbearably theatrical, almost
childish, at least in terms of
Black Tuda, Videostill from a concert.
CO
UR
TE
SY
: I
LE
AN
A T
OY
NT
Aã
S G
AL
LE
RY
45
Your Sweetness isMy Weakness
appearances, qualities that could
immediately render it an
interesting terrain for discourse,
someone might as well argue. In
any case, what cannot be easily
disputed is that its practitioners
tend to take, perhaps with few
exceptions, themselves only too
seriously. Yet, the same often
applies to us, that is, the
members of the local artistic
microcosm. Thus, if Black Tuda’s
aim was to bring closer the
devotees of two different
contemporary religions, then
their venture was not, most
probably, successful for both
audiences, as all believers, do
take themselves too seriously.
This is why they are not open to
each another. It may be, on the
other hand, that their objective
was to show exactly this or just
to explore it: to probe the
suspicion—or certainty as far as I
am concerned—that
participation in the art world still
remains an elitist activity that
has little to do with more open
to the public forms like rock.
Regarding the title of the present
text, this relates to the
aforementioned comments about
the excess of the provocation
without the due dose of self-
sarcasm (it also relates, of
course, to the music I was
listening to when I started
writing). At the end, I turned to
reflect upon Black Tuda’s idea
but with different constituents.
I thought of four guys under the
name Gold or Silver Tuda and
flamboyant costumes. The
loudspeakers broadcast Barry
White and µurt Bacharach. The
audience gradually becomes
more relaxed and cheerful. They
listen to those glossy,
disincriminated tunes and the
lyrics that call for small,
everyday, domestic type
subversions. Subversions that
can noiselessly change your
attitude towards the other and
eventually towards the world.
Besides, the Residents never took
themselves seriously, nor, it goes
without saying, any of the rock
(semi)gods.
The v isual art project B lack Tuda
organised by Apostolos Zerdevas , Em
Kei , Poka-Yio , and Dimitr is Foutr is
with the part ic ipat ion of the group
Nethescer ia l was held at the I leana
Tounta Gal lery (Armatolon ηÈ
K lefton 48 , Athens , ÙËÏ . 210 6439466
e-mai l : i leanatounta@art- tounta .gr )
on 14 May 2006
·.
Katerina Nikou meets
Maro Mihalakakos and
discuss about his personal
and artistic formation
Vis
its
PH
OT
O K
AT
ER
INA
NIK
OU
47
Maro Michalakakou was born in
Athens in 1967. She studied at the
Ecole Nationale Supérieure d’Arts
Plastiques de Clergy-Pontoise in
Paris. Her most recent solo show
was staged at New York’s 511
gallery in 2004.
Given that you know how hard itis to ensure a stable income, isbeing an artist a luxury?
In financial terms, yes, but I
wouldn’t say it was a luxury in
terms of the artistic process itself,
which is tough, though satisfying
and fulfilling. Of course, it is
difficult to ensure a stable income
as an artist if you limit yourself to
exhibiting in galleries. Seeking out
alternative solutions doesn’t make
you any less of an artist; ultimately,
I’d say it was the right thing to do.
How would you persuadesomeone to take an interest inthe contemporary art scene herein Greece?
I’d tell them it had a lot to offer.
That however closed it might
appear at first sight, they could
come, in time, to understand the
contemporary art scene if they
were patient and visited a few
exhibitions; that they’d learn how
to ‘read’ it, and that they might
develop a particular interest in
certain of the fronts on which it is
engaged.
Are galleries an élitist institution,in the sense that they usuallyaddress an audience that needs
to know a certain amount?
They are élitist in the same way
that someone could describe
museums, theatres or the cinema
as élitist. Now, which films and
theatrical or dance productions
each of us chooses to attend is our
own business.
Does art have to be trendy?
I believe that every artist should
stay in touch with what is
happening around us, just as they
ought to know what has happened
before us. I wouldn’t say art has to
consider trendiness an end in
itself, because art that does so is
empty. If an artist’s work happens
to be in tune with today’s trends
rather than those of the part, it
might be easier for viewers to
understand it. Of course, the
groundswell of an era is shaped by
the artists themselves through
their many and varied activities,
though this doesn’t mean that if
an artist has no chance of striking
a chord with the public if he/she
doesn’t stay in tune with new
developments.
You have exhibited successfullyin Paris and New York. Howdifficult is it for a Greek artist to‘convince’ abroad?
I don’t present myself as a Greek
artist, and I don’t think people
approach me in those terms. As I
see it, the subjects I tackle in my
work could be dealt with by
others, irrespective of their
nationality. Of course, they would
read or extend them in a way that
Visits
Maro Mihalakakos, Draft
PH
OT
O: K
AT
ER
INA
NIK
OU
49
Visits
is their own, and which is shaped,
in part, by their native culture.
Which is a good thing. The bad
thing about Greek artists is that
they are positively hounded by the
riches of Greece’s historical part
and cultural heritage. Greece
means the Acropolis and ancient
monuments, which leads to the
sidelining of contemporary art.
How do Paris and New Yorkcompare?
Things are more professional in
New York and more intimate in
Paris. In New York, you sign a
contract, but not everything is so
clear cut in Paris. It goes without
saying that there is more to see in
New York, and that you can form a
more comprehensive view of
contemporary trends there. It
seems to me that Paris has been
trying to change its cultural
policies in recent years in an effort
to make it more receptive to
different approaches to art. Before
that, the city was hermetically
sealed in an academic French
scene that, in my opinion,
succeeded in divesting Paris of its
leading role in contemporary art.
Your work contains an intensesociological commentary thatemphasizes inter-genderrelations with a focus on women.Are things easier or harder for afemale artist?
To date, my work has tended to
reference relations between the
sexes, and, as you said, female
nature, because I am interested in
a range of issues relating to this
difference. I can’t answer your
question, because I only have
experience as a female artist, and
have nothing to compare that
experience with. What does feel
hard at times is combining
motherhood with creating art. Of
course, this might prove highly
fruitful; because I considered it
impossible to combine the two, it
took a lot of effort on my part to
see that, in the end, they are not
mutually exclusive.
What have you been working onrecently?
On the concept of time, and the
relationship everyone develops
with time at different times in their
lives.
Name two objects you have inyour studio and two you neverhave?
I have a mobile phone and books.
I’ve never had--but need--a stapler
and a pencil eraser.
What wouldn’t you like me tophotograph in your space?
Photograph anything you like; it’s
a total mess, anyway.
Which is your favourite work inhere?
I can’t pick one out; there are
some I prefer, but I can’t choose
one.
Which work would you donate tothe "Athens art review"?
Two old drawings, among the first
I did in Paris. ·.
ŒÎPublication: The Athens Biennial – Non-Profit Organization
Editor-in-chief: Theophilos Tramboulis
Contributors to this issue: Loraini Alimantiri, Iliana Fokianaki, Kostas Ioannidis, Anny Malama, Christopher Marinos,
Alexandra Moschovi, Katerina Nikou
Text Editing: Katerina Panoutsou
Translations: Voula Avgoustinou, Michael Eleftheriou, Dimitris Saltabasis
Lay-out: Dimitris Stathopoulos
Designed by: The Switch Design Agency
page 2: Eva Vretzaki, videostill from the exibition Full Moon
top related