Editorial
Article
A community barn for Kassel
Ela Bittencourt
4 May 2022, 1:09 pm
Curated around the idea of collectivity by ruangrupa, the Jakarta-based artist collective founded in 2000, documenta 15 will open in June 2022. It couldn’t come at a more difficult, but perhaps also propitious time. The pandemic and the war in Ukraine have cast grave doubt on whether the globalized world can respond cooperatively to crises. In the art context, there’s certainly a question of what “global,” or “globalized” even means. In one sense of the word, the massive, evermore sprawling international art showcases had become ecologically and communally unsustainable even pre-war and pre-pandemic. Whom are biennials for in the time of widespread inequity? Museum workers strike for better pay (“Workers Make Biennials” was a rallying cry of museum workers at the recently opened Whitney Biennial, in New York). Activists expose the myriad ways in which art whitewashes fortunes of arms producers, big pharma, supporters of colonizing occupations, and destroyers of the environment. The numerous forms of protest against these forces draw our attention to the need for collectivity, not merely as an immediate and temporary response, but as a sustained effort. Emergent from this context, ruangrupa take their inspiration for documenta from lumbung: in Indonesian vernacular architecture, a barn for communal storing of agricultural products, most commonly rice—a term, however, which ruangrupa members take to have vast metaphorical meaning, from cosmological, as evidenced in pre-historical societies, to technological, both “a hardware and a software.” In their curatorial statement, the artists propose “a globally oriented, cooperative, interdisciplinary art and culture platform that will remain effective beyond the 100 days (…) a collaborative model of resource use—economically, but also in terms of ideas, knowledge, programs, and innovation.”
Above: ruruHaus, documenta 15 headquarters, in 2020. Photo: Nicolas Wefers
The curators of documenta 2022, ruangrupa (Gudskul) members: Reza Afisina, Indra Ameng, Farid Rakun, Daniella Fitria Praptono, Iswanto Hartono, Ajeng Nurul Aini, Ade Darmawan, Julia Sarisetiati, Mirwan Andan. Photo: Jin Panji © Artnet
In his essay on documenta’s history, reproduced in “documenta: Curating the History of the Present”, art theorist Peter Osborne suggests that while art critics tend to disproportionately foreground newness—in a way, mythologizing the “break with the past”— contemporaneity may be better understood as “no longer [intended] to overcome history, but a self-conscious resumption of it,” a reactivation of past forms and ideas. It is certainly possible to ask how the 15th edition might relate to documenta’s history. One way is through an emphasis on environments, rather than distinct works of art. The idea has long been present in the group’s own collective practice, as evidenced by their participation in the 31st São Paulo Biennial, “How to (…) Things That Don’t Exist”, in 2014, where ruangrupa presented an ongoing installation, “RURU”, built as a result of the group’s dialogues with local collectives in São Paulo.
"RURU" instalation views, ruangrupa (2014) – commissioned artwork at the 31st Bienal de São Paulo. Photo: Leo Eloy © Fundação Bienal de São Paulo
documenta isn’t a stranger to efforts of opening up to social engagement. First organized in 1955, in Kassel, Germany, it emerged after World War II with the initial aim of recuperating the past legacies of German pre-war avant-gardes, especially the “degenerate” art, banned by the Nazis. It quickly changed course, to champion contemporary art; Eurocentric and American at first, with some 30-year lag to substantially include Africa, Asia, Australia, and Latin America. Harald Szeemann’s documenta 5, in 1972, is frequently credited as the first edition to open up to non-western art. The autonomy of the art object—which alleges art’s separation from the sociopolitical sphere—was challenged early in documenta’s history: from the recuperation of the legacies of Bauhaus and Berlin Dada to institutional critique, for example, in documenta 5, in 1972. Even abstract art of the ‘50s and ‘60s was championed as a mark of freedom—personal, but also political, particularly when framed in contrast to the “unfree,” figurative socialist-realist art of East Germany and the Soviet Bloc. Still, documenta has drawn criticism as increasingly focused on spectacle, and media buzz. Jan Joet’s documenta 9, in 1992, is one key example.
Nevertheless, documenta has historical precedents of a more environment rather than artwork-based approach. For instance, in 1997, documenta 10’s director Catherine David envisioned an interdisciplinary platform: The Hybrid WorkSpace was a temporary media lab, conceived by David, with Hans Ulrich Obrist, Klaus Biesenbach and Nancy Spector, physically based at a five-room apartment. It presented projects of 15 groups of artists, activists, critics, and guests, around themes such as immigration, technoscience, offline publishing and cyberfeminism—expanding documenta’s reach in a more dialogic way. A platform was also created by documenta 11’s director Okwui Enwezor, in 2002. This time, it meant a series of seminars, taking place in Berlin, New Delhi, Lagos, Kassel, and St. Lucia, prior to documenta’s opening in Kassel. Enwezor’s re-envisioned platform emphasized post-colonial theory, migration, dislocation, and deterritorialization; it challenged the North-Atlantic hegemony of the previous editions.
Okwui Enwezor in 2002. Photo: Richard Kasiewicz
© documenta Archiv
"Bataille monument", Thomas Hirschhorn (2002), documenta 11. Photo: Ryszard Kasiewicz © Thomas Hirschhorn VG/Bild-Kunst / documenta Archiv
"Fontes" (1992), Cildo Meireles, at documenta 9. Photo: D. Pauwels © documenta Archiv
"Man Walking to the Sky" (1991-2), Jonathan Borofsky, at documenta 9. Photo: Dirk Bleicker © documenta Archiv
lumbung space art, part of documenta 15 visual identity.
Ruangrupa have implemented a platform model, online, via documenta’s YouTube channel. Since the summer of 2021, they have streamed live and uploaded a series of conversations amongst artists, collectives, and activists, as part of the public program, lumbug calling: Meydan (open space), on themes ranging from sufficiency, generosity, independence, and transparency, to countering single narratives. Altogether, 7 sessions have been scheduled. In the conversation “Local Anchor,” Melanie Budianta, an Indonesian professor of literature in Indonesia, who researches arts activism and women’s movements, and Armin Salassa, an Indonesian farmer and activist in natural farming, discussed how the idea of lumbung is evoked by contemporary communities, in varied areas, i.e., culinary practice, with diverse technologies (websites, cafes, etc.) to create a welcoming environment and a way to store knowledge, with an emphasis on blending traditional and new approaches, organizing, and mindful distribution.
Where ruangrupa’s model seems new is in proposing collectivity not just as a question of representation (presenting collectives), but as a curatorial strategy; in a sense, extending the impulse behind initiatives within documenta, such as The Hybrid WorkSpace, to the entire event. Although there were some attempts at a more inclusive, grassroots curation in documenta’s history – i.e. by a 26-person committee for documenta 4, in 1968 -, by-and-large, ruangrupa’s approach departs from the standard model of the previous editions, which, while they presented collective groups and actions, largely depended on the individual charismas of their directors. Enwezor’s documenta—a propositional phrase that itself suggests a singular authorial stamp—despite having six co-curators, was described by art critic Thomas McEvilley in Frieze: “the whole immense exhibition seemed the work of a single mind, not of seven different ones”.
Ruangrupa is the first collective of artists, rather than curators, to direct documenta. The next São Paulo Biennial will also include an artist, the Portuguese Grada Kilomba, and the Liverpool Biennial, in 2023, will be curated by the South African artist and curator Khanyisile Mbongwa. With its emphasis on work by consensus, on organizing into assemblies originally envisioned as in-person, moved to Zoom in the pandemic, the ruangrupa collective can be said to evoke the legacies and ethos of artist-workers and art assemblies of the 1960s and ‘70s: the short-lived Art Workers Coalition, founded in 1969, in New York, is but one example that comes to mind.
Fridericianum during documenta 14. Photo: Mathias Voelzke
As documenta 15 nears, the question then becomes how a collectivized curatorship will transform the viewing experience, and our ability to envision a communal future. One hope for the collective model has been articulated by curator Julieta González, who currently leads Museum Inhotim, in her introduction to the book “Onde Vive a Arte na América Latina (2021)”. In it, González defines “oikonomia: the management of the home”— as a more experiential, organic, and convivial experience of art, which arises from concerns of local organizations directly connected to the needs of their communities. González borrows a key insight from Félix Guattari, whose concept, “molecular revolution” captured hope in what the French theorist called “micropolitical vitality,” a mobilization on the grassroots level, within informal frameworks (Guattari visited Brazil in 1982, a trip recorded in the book, Molecular Revolution in Brazil). Transplanting Guattari’s concept to the art world, González calls for moving away from events that privilege institutionalization, narrowly centered on collecting art objects, and instead towards organic collaborations of smaller groups, more attentive to local needs. The hope is that, by foregrounding the networks of such smaller groups and of artists working collaboratively, larger institutions can also learn to think more critically, expansively, innovatively. The challenge for ruangrupa then becomes whether, and how, Kassel can effectively become a hub for a more inclusively global documenta, one that, while it sustains the sense of an expanded network, is rooted in local communities (one initiative that seems to fulfill this model is in ruangrupa’s work with centers for asylum seekers, i.e., Trampolinehuset, in Copenhagen).
"Lugar de escuta" (2018-2019), Graziela Kunsch and Daniel Guimarães. Photo: Daniela Paoliello
ruangrupa recognize that for documenta 15 to function as a resource-platform, its collaborative networks must extend beyond the event’s 100 days. This preoccupation is so far reflected in the selection of artists and collectives invited to Kassel. Among the 51 artists/groups, the Brazilian artist Graziela Kunsch is an example of a socially engaged artist, who embeds her projects in local communities. For instance, between 2001 and 2003, Kunsch opened her house as a semi-public space, Casa da Grazi, to organize collaborative residencies and exhibitions. At the 29th São Paulo Biennial, Kunsch’s ongoing installation, Projeto Mutirão, 2007, was comprised of videos, sound, furniture and a library—the videos presented as excerpts, each used to start a new conversation with an audience. Kunsch emphasizes an open-ended approach to video work, in which the longer temporal duration, rather than a stress on a narrative arc with beginning, middle and end, allows her to better capture the complex nature of community building, urban projects, etc. In the catalogue for the 31st São Paulo Biennial, Kunsch proposes the artist’s role as that of a mediator: “critical mediation” (Kunsch’s term) functions outside habitual educational frameworks. The idea is consistent with Kunsch’s practice, which favors informal over formal networks, i.e., adjacent to popular movements, such as Passe Livre, and collaborative efforts, Clínica Pública de Psicanálise at Vila Itororó, a community psychoanalysis center, which Kunsch ran, together with Daniel Guimaraes, from 2016 to 2020, at a historical building in São Paulo.
Kunsch’s emphasis on the local, collaborative, and communal, on functionality, dialogue, mediation, and informality are echoed in ruangrupa’s ethos, and the kind of presence they hope to have in Kassel, which they outlined in a recent interview with Artnet, “We rent houses and transfer from house to house after turning them into a space that is more public. Consequently, we understand the term ‘public’ differently than public institutions. We just open up spaces without calling them an ‘exhibition space’ or ‘residency space,’ or boxing it in with such terms. Activities happen there. It is not metaphoric; it is a space that we think can truly function.”
Ela Bittencourt
is a critic and cultural journalist, currently based between New York and São Paulo. She writes on art, film and literature, often in the context of social issues and politics, for vehicles such as Artforum, ArtReview, Frieze, Harper’s, Hyperallergic and NYRB.
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