Gramsci Monument: an attempt at unity

Heroine. That was the topic of one poem by visiting artist Tracie Morris. "Some of you might be familiar with this," she said. In front of me, an older black woman paused from crocheting a colorful flower to look up and say, "yep."

Tracie Morris was part of the Gramsci Monument's visiting lecture series, which took place on a ramshackle stage made of plywood and tarp amidst the Bronx Forest Houses. Like the residents there, Morris also grew up in public housing. She is now a professor of poetry and a published poet. She has developed an energetic, improvisational style that infuses slam poetry with her body as an instrument, and she beats on her chest while she speaks in syncopated rhythms.

For me, Morris was the most redemptive aspect of visiting the Monument. During her performance, I felt that the whole audience was enraptured by her rhythm and her innovation, and I may never have learned of her otherwise. But the rest of the Monument was more obtuse and unreachable for me: the library housed an intimidating collection of communist literature, the radio station seemed uninviting and off-limits, and the food stand didn’t have a single meat-free option for a vegetarian like me. The German philosopher who followed Morris on the stage was cold and monotone, and I feared sometimes that the stage would fall out from underneath us. Regardless, the Forest Houses community seemed to be in favor of the monument, which is what really matters in the end.

(revised 10.3.13)

Hirschhorn resists.

The first two questions that arise when I look at an artwork are always the same: what is it and why is it made ? In Thomas Hirschhorn’s Gramsci Monument a third question triggers irritations: where? 

The Gramsci Monument is dedicated to Antonio Gramsci, a politician, philosopher and one of the founders of the Communist Party of Italy. Hirschhorn calls himself a fan of Gramsci, who “was a hero and who was ready to pay the price for his commitment”. Hirschhorn refers to the time that Gramsci spend in prison after Mussolini survived an alleged assassination attempt in 1926 and enacted new restrictive laws. Hirschhorn, in his informative monument, focused on the 32 notebooks that Gramsci filled with notes during his ten years in prison. In the classical monument he reproduces Gramsci as a portrait on a wall. 

In the exhibition brochure, Hirschhorn questions his installation in regards to “the Universality and Autonomy of Art”. His decision to locate the work in the Bronx is based on an encounter that he had with the people from the Forest Houses after speaking with other communities. The mission of co-existence and co-operation “asks for help not to bring help” claims Hirschhorn. The problem of the installation is the contradiction between Gramsci’s communism, the monument to him, the location, the people that are involved, and the visitors’ experience: the kids are occupying the computer lab playing video games, the library is empty and the lectures are only attended by the art going public. 

Occupy Gramsci

OCCUPY GRAMSCI

In a time when a simple “share” or “tag” in social networking websites connotes political awareness, the viewer might not be able to get rid of one old question: “What is the role of social engagement in contemporary art?” In his Gramsci Monument, Thomas Hirschhorn has tried to address such themes by making a platform for everybody to participate.

 Gramsci Monument was constructed this summer in Bronx, New York. Built with the help of local residents, Gramsci Monument looks conspicuously shaky and contingent. The site contains several public platforms for people to spend time in and it is also covered with banners and spray paints of Gramsci’s quotations.

By opening up his monument to people of all walks of life, the artist has successfully subverted the most important feature of traditional monuments. Here, people don’t step back in awe, but enter the space, engage with it and with each other, and most importantly, they “occupy” the sanctioned space of an aesthetic object. By doing so, Hirschhorn tries too hard to raise the possibility of “counter-hegemony”. 

Hirschhorn’s attempt at contributing to the idea of social sculpture established by Joseph Beuys in 1960s, seems exciting but hardly geared to leave a lasting effect on the viewer’s mind and it remains unable to provide the viewer with a deeper understanding of Gramsci’s ideas and their relevance to the contemporary world.

Thomas Hirschhorn’s Gramsci Monument

The Gramsci Monument – a participatory wooden hut made of recycled materials, located in a housing project in South Bronx – is meant to function as a public artwork only communicating the artist’s vision of art. But, by choosing Antonio Gramsci as his muse, Thomas Hirschhorn is also selecting a sociologically charged figure.

Gramsci was an Italian supporter of Marxist theories. He was convinced that a self-created and self-regulated “counter-hegemony” could emerge and reverse the capitalist system. One might think that Hirschhorn was going in that direction by erecting a monument to the philosopher. But the Swiss artist in fact intended to “establish a definition of monument, to provoke encounters, to create an event, and to think Gramsci today.” Hirschhorn is not speaking about acting on Gramsci’s theories; the artist is not meaning to start up the revolution the philosopher thought of. This duality goes further: Hirschhorn constructed the Gramsci Monument as a commission by the Dia Foundation (fully part of the established American art world). Therefore, it remains questionable what the intention of the artwork is: conveying Gramsci’s revolutionary message, or Hirschhorn’s artistic approach.

The artist is here paradoxical in his method, using a revolutionary image to crystalize concepts that are not so revolutionary after all. If the message of the artwork might be sensed as unclear, it nevertheless succeeds in waking up curiosity regarding its content.

 

GRAMSCI MONUMENT - a Tree House for Social Change

Thomas Hirschhorn, a Swiss artist, brought a monument dedicated to the Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci to the Forest Hill community in the Bronx. This is no ordinary monument, it was built with help from the local Bronx community with ply wood, box tape, and other non precious items. The materials transcend the established norms of what a monument should be made from and  the form itself also was unusual. This was not a monolith or portraiture of a man, it was a simple tree house in the middle of the projects open to all.

Each “room” within the tree house was dedicated to some sort of learning or community - based activity. There was a library filled with historical /political literature about Gramsci, and a place where children could make art. For the older crowed there was a porch filled with white plastic chairs and a tapped up microphone where philosophers and poets had a place to showcase their thoughts. There are possible problems within this work, questions whether or not this is fine art or just another form for political activism. Or whether or not this exploits those who live in the neighborhood by exposing different communities to the poor projects.  But after going there several times, I just wanted to be part of it;  part of the  hope that this tree house would bring social change.

                                          I Can See His Aura:  Wade Guyton @ the Whitney

The Whitney Museum of American Art plays host to Wade Guyton, in a midcareer survey . Guyton, a  38 year old, New York based artist, utilizes banal and ubiquitous technological means of production -- Microsoft word, Adobe photo shop, Epson inkjet printers, etc. – to quote, imitate,  and playful allude to mid-20^th century abstract painting.   Yet, his spacious and well organized survey feels less like a longing for the glory days of minimalist abstraction, when non-expressive, black and white pen stripe paintings were painted by hand – Frank Stella  or when architecturally scaled  stripe paintings alluded to Parisian awnings  --Daniel  Buren, and more like a liquidation of the two. Or better still liquidation in general, Guyton uses an “Epson touch” to survey the history of painting, Ellsworth Kelly’s black and white painting Cite, 1951 was given a prominent reiteration by Guyton, in a multi-panel, Epson Ultra chrome inkjet painting that measured 88 x 157 inches.

In Guyton’s painting: scale, muted color, proximity of multiple panels  all play a prominent role in Guyton’s survey. The exhibition begins with a somewhat standardized row of black on black pen strip paintings all of which contain digitally printed flames that rage upward from the bottom edges. The letter U floats within the flames of each individually printed panel, though the color, location and amount of U’s  differ from panel to panel.  The white space that is created in between these multiple black panels is reciprocated in the panels themselves, due to a white line that vertically bisects these predominately black paintings.  This reciprocity between the sliver of white contained in the painting and the larger expanses of white from the wall that get exposed from panel to panel goes a long way to differentiate Guyton’s work from someone like Kelly. Since Kelly wanted his paintings to function as architecture not oscillate between them.

By grasping Guyton’s work from the perspective of ‘space’ these mechanically produced paintings deal with pictorial and architectonic space in an almost enthralling way.  Ma is a Japanese term that describes intervals between the apprehension of objects and the acquisition of conscious knowledge; it can be simply described as the space between things that allows for mental comprehension of things.  Ma is thought of as a sacred ‘conscious space’ that develops from acute observation. Whether or not Guyton had Ma in mind when producing his works borders on the side of speculation perhaps even its wild side; yet, his works do demand a certain level of perceptual engagement.  And if one is so inclined lines, ostensibly, become three dimensional and rise above the surface while others recede and fade into a cloud of digital fuzz. 

But undoubtedly, Guyton’s work, if ever mentioned in regards to transcendence will be done so in relation to a cynical or ironically playful approach.  Yet, by reducing the work to postmodern irony the social value or the cultural significance of the work is displaced.   That is, if conclusions can be drawn about the organization of perception in relation to a given historical moment based on the art produced with in it, Guyton’s work is a clear sign of the times.    If viewed through Walter Benjamin’s aura, a term he describe as “the stripping of the veil from the object, the destruction of aura…”  Benjamin rested the decay of aura on two circumstances “the desire of the masses to get closer to things and their equally passionate concern for overcoming each things uniqueness.” Benjamin continues, “The uniqueness of a work of art is identical to its embeddedness in the context of tradition.”

 Benjamin’s last quote serves to explain Guyton’s excessive use of art history, which differs from artist of past generations who utilized techniques of mass production, based on representations embedded in popular culture.