The Walker Art Center鈥檚 latest exhibition, 9 Artists, strips the concept of group show down to its core, dispensing with themes and showcasing the work of artists practising today.
Bartholomew Ryan, curator of 9 Artists, acknowledges that 鈥渢he title, of course, has a kind of neutrality in relation to a theme, and looks back to group show precedents, where things were more matter of fact,鈥 but he emphasises that, historically, group shows have had 鈥渢his sense of inevitability; an arrogance almost that was naming a shift in a seemingly understated way.鈥 The idea of recreating such a show was thus attractive because 鈥渨e no longer think in terms of progress from one kind of art making to another, but have to negotiate these multiple perspectives at all times.鈥 And the multiple perspectives of today鈥檚 art world are manifested in this exhibition precisely because the 9 Artists show features only eight named artists, raising unanswerable speculation among quizzical viewers over who is the ninth: 鈥淎 lot of people will think the ninth artist is the curator, a figure who is increasingly criticised for annexing artistic authorship, but I prefer to think that this artist might be every other artist who could have been in the show, or one of the many ghosts that haunts the exhibition. It鈥檚 like we are setting a place in case Elijah shows up for dinner; it could also be the viewers who, in classic contemporary art style, are invited to become participants in making the work.鈥
The show鈥檚 designation is deliberately confusing, but Ryan sees these mixed messages as 鈥渘ot that important.鈥 He toyed with the idea of adding another artist but 鈥渢hey weighted the exhibition too much in another direction; made it too legible along some art-historical trajectory.鈥 Satisfied with the original eight, the title became a ploy to emphasise the exhibition鈥檚 very nature: 鈥淚f the exhibition is about anything, it is about not trumpeting a literal transparent read of the world.鈥 The selected artists all maintain expansive practices, and the show explores how they individually address questions of biography and identity while negotiating an increasingly complex and connected world. Ryan explains: 鈥淚 was interested in playing with the fact that we no longer think in terms of progress from one kind of art making to another, but have to negotiate multiple perspectives at all times.鈥
Encompassing sculpture, music, video and performance, 9 Artists is an eclectic representation of art production today, and the absence of themes was 鈥渃hallenging at all stages in that I didn鈥檛 want to over-articulate a theme for the institution, for the artists themselves, or more broadly.鈥 Although commonalities are still emerging and 鈥渨ill play out in the installation and in the catalogue,鈥 Ryan sees the idea as a whole as 鈥減retty compelling; it will have a lot of tension and hopefully even chemistry.鈥
While the exhibition claims as broad a remit as 鈥渢he mutable role of the artist in contemporary culture,鈥 the selection of artists was a natural one: 鈥淚 basically started with eight artists whose work I thought would be interesting together; who I thought approached some of the same broad questions but came at them from very different positions.鈥 In contrast to more contrived group shows, and their laboured sense of drawing the artists together, Ryan refreshingly admits that his initial selection was as simple as 鈥渨riting names down on a piece of paper. These are all artists whose work I have found challenging in the past, sometimes frustrating, deeply problematic, or provocative. They are artists whose work I think of almost on a daily basis, who I wanted to know more about and think about in relation to each other.鈥 This very personal preoccupation of the curator suggests that perhaps he is the ninth artist, and the Walker Art Center faces a challenge of appealing to a wider audience who might not share Ryan鈥檚 intrigue. In spite of openly admitting to such a personal collection, however, Ryan does identify a theme of sorts, albeit a broad one that is not immediately obvious on traversing the works: 鈥淎t the core of the exhibition is an exploration of what it means to be self-aware, to acknowledge and understand that we are in a world where, in order to navigate anything, you must confront your own complicity and implication in power. For me, what each of the artists has in common is a very basic thing: they can perceive themselves moving in the world.鈥 Of course, it can be argued that Ryan himself is turning a blind eye to the implications of his own power in selecting the artists, but the works involved do raise pertinent questions about self and biography that have been sidelined in recent years and deemed unfashionable among art critics.
In spite of, or perhaps because of this, Ryan is suspicious of such generalisations: 鈥淲ords like 鈥榠dentity鈥 and 鈥榖iography鈥 are very loaded in the art world, in fact I think we live under the shadow of many words and terms that are no longer that serviceable for describing or engaging with the present because they come with so much baggage.鈥 He criticises 鈥渢he chimera of identity politics鈥 and its orthodox reading as a specific moment by arguing that 鈥渨e should know that identity politics are everywhere all the time, and we are all participants.鈥 Grouping the artists together, they are all 鈥渁ware of the questions that come along with these really overburdened ideas, and don鈥檛 think they have to abandon identity or biography 鈥 they just don鈥檛 have to talk about them in the ways we used to.鈥
Danh Vo鈥檚 (b. 1975) absolute granite sculpture, Tombstone for Ph霉ng Vo (2010), is an intensely personal piece installed in the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden which will be removed on his father鈥檚 death to be placed on his grave at Vestre Kirkeg氓rd in Copenhagen. By aligning the museum鈥檚 collection with such a personal (and uncontrollable) element of the artist鈥檚 life, Vo has made his family and biography implicit in the future of the museum鈥檚 outdoor space. In visiting the sculpture, audiences cannot help but identify with the issues of fear and loss that it raises, and Ryan says: 鈥淭here is something beautiful about the way Danh鈥檚 father has become a participant in his work.鈥 As Ph霉ng Vo created the piece鈥檚 calligraphy (鈥淗ere Lies One Whose Name Was Writ In Water,鈥 taken from Keats鈥 grave), the piece is an almost macabre memento mori from son to father, highlighting 鈥渁 certain perversity that is key to Danh鈥檚 work, almost a malevolence in terms of bureaucratic processes that shouldn鈥檛 be ignored.鈥 Vo, who escaped Vietnam for Denmark with his father as a child, is an artist whose biography is (as here) inevitably referenced by anybody discussing his work, and Ryan describes this as a 鈥渒ind of foundation myth as productive for Vo as Joseph Beuys鈥 rescue by the Tartars was for him,鈥 and consequently this biographical element emphasises his family鈥檚 role in his work, and his father鈥檚 ultimate destiny to rest 鈥渋n exile.鈥 9 Artists also includes a new presentation of the artist鈥檚 exhibition I M U U R 2 (2012), which is based on the personal archive of deceased Lower East Side painter Martin Wong and was developed over many years in collaboration with his mother, Florence Wong.
In complete contrast to Vo, Natascha Sadr Haghighian (b. 1968) dismisses biography and history altogether, 鈥渇amously founding a website for the free exchange of bios and resumes because she felt the whole idea of ascribing value according to biographical background, or the institutional affiliations that one lists on a CV, for example, is deeply suspect and often about a form of containment and control.鈥 Haghighian鈥檚 contribution includes a new commission based around the artist鈥檚 appeal to ArtFacts.net to cease their biographical accounts of her career and exhibiting history, and ranking her amongst the international artist community. The project is inherently intangible and abstract, and naturally poses issues for its transmission to an audience, but Ryan emphasises that 鈥渟he doesn鈥檛 do this just for the sake of it; she understands that the nature of the invitation can also be highly prescriptive. In my first conversation with her she said she wishes she could be more proactive than reactive, but that often she just can鈥檛 help it because the terms of engagement are so confining or problematic.鈥 Her I can鈥檛 work like this (2007), also featured, is the deserted wall installation of a frustrated artist, literally downing tools and abandoning the piece due to the constraints of the 鈥渋ndustry鈥, and it鈥檚 a piece that naturally engages with the space (and unwittingly perhaps with the institution).
In response to popular culture鈥檚 seemingly insatiable appetite for reality TV and consistently more intimate, more shocking revelations, Bjarne Melgaard鈥檚 (b. 1967)The awakening and consumption of Heidi Fleiss as she talks to a brioche named Austin (2013) caricatures this fascination with C-list celebrities with slightly unsavoury pasts, such as the infamous Hollywood Madam, and the voyeurism that such TV shows enjoy over their mundane activities. The work comprises hundreds of documentary photographs of Melgaard by Johannes Wors酶e Berg depicting 鈥渢he artist in his studio, strolling around New York in the rain, hanging out at the Eagle, or on a water taxi in Venice.鈥 Ryan describes the work as 鈥渇airly cinematic,鈥 and compares it to the romantic films of Wong Kar-Wai and to Before Sunset (2004).
However, rather than creating a no-holds-barred portrait of the artist, Melgaard engages with the persona of the artist and the idea of biography as a construct and a performance. As Melgaard鈥檚 work 鈥渟ets this apparently biographical larger-than-life body and figure in play, you are never quite sure if you are dealing with Bjarne or some excessive version of his artistic persona. It is quite easy to burlesque him, but I think his work rewards strong concentration.鈥 In the exhibition, Melgaard鈥檚 work most obviously engages with Ryan鈥檚 argument that what these artists represent 鈥渋s always shifting, not just for the sake of it, but because they recognise identity as highly contextual.鈥 As an artist, musician and writer, Melgaard鈥檚 work defies categorisation, but his pieces in 9 Artists are some of the most collaborative of the exhibition, involving not just Wors酶e Berg but also Ryan himself, who says: 鈥淭his work really emerged out of our conversations around some of the exhibition ideas,鈥 and it came together 鈥渁fter many meetings with the artist.鈥
This idea of collaboration extends to the 9 Artists catalogue, which sees each artist working with another creative individual through text and images to engage with new issues of identity and biography. For example, Vo鈥檚 deeply personal repertoire is extended with images of his nephew, Gustav, and 鈥渁 text by artist Karl Holmqvist that has been written out by Ph霉ng Vo,鈥 while Israeli artist Yael Bartana (b. 1970) engages further with the competing Diasporic and Zionist identities of her home country through 鈥渁 series of letters between herself and the notorious Austrian philosopher and anti-Semite Otto Weininger.鈥 The fact that the letters are ghost written by her long-term collaborator, Galit Eilat, alongside the fact that many of Melgaard鈥檚 photographs were taken by Wors酶e Berg, further draws into question the nature of art and the role of authorship for artists鈥 own works. This debate, and the concept of intellectual property rights, are further explored by Hito Steyerl鈥檚 (b. 1966) contribution, I Dreamed a Dream: Politics in the Age of Mass Art Production (2013), which became a fortuitous and unintentional conversation 鈥渂etween her, the Walker and a rights holder who withheld copyright for the reprint of a song.鈥 The text-based piece highlights the void left by the artist鈥檚 decision to reject the Walker Art Center鈥檚 argument for fair use in printing the song, and serves as a sort of anti-collaboration.
Meanwhile, N谩stio Mosquito (b. 1981) has taken a wry look at the very concept of concepts and art鈥檚 perpetually introspective attitude, collaborating with Vic Pereir贸 on 鈥渁 super graphic visual and DIY style鈥 response to Ryan鈥檚 questions which 鈥渕ake some very elegant points.鈥 The text offers a substantial insight into the artistic community today, and its constant battle with itself and its history, with an essay from Ryan on 鈥渢he army of individuals鈥 (itself a quote from Mosquito), 鈥渋n which I try to contend a little with each artist鈥檚 work, while also more or less refusing to connect them to each other aggressively.鈥 He summarises: 鈥淚t鈥檚 going to be an odd and beautiful publication,鈥 a description which aptly describes the whole role of art production today.
9 Artists runs from 24 October to 16 February at the Walker Art Center, Minneapolis. .
Ruby Beesley
