Wednesday, November 13, 2019

My Visit to New York City (Part One)


Curt Hoppe’s “Downtown Portraits”, Spring 2019

I’m writing a memoir. “What makes you think your life is interesting enough for a book?” a woman at a New York commune’s Friday dinner asked. It’s not me, I replied, it’s my passage through some scenes over years. I lived the last quarter of the 20th century in lower Manhattan, participating in the art and media world under different hats.
I lived in and around Soho and the Lower East Side, met innumerable artists and worked with dozens. Some became famous. Always I wrote, for Artforum, Art-Rite, the East Village Eye and for myself.
I was a critic, an editor, a graphic arts worker, a video artist, a video distributor, and an art historian. My collective engagements, with the artists’ group Colab and the cultural center ABC No Rio, turned into political positions. At the end of the century I moved to suburbia, returned to graduate school, and produced Art Gangs, the book which gives this blog its title.
My planned memoir will illuminate aspects of that extraordinary period in cultural life and production which are less explored. I was politicized, which is a deprivileged tendency in the art world. I will argue for and explain about the political turn in downtown art and culture, and the significance of collective action by artists.
While a good deal of this book is already written, I spent September and October of ‘19 with my partner in an apartment in Crown Heights, visiting libraries, gallery events and talking with old friends and comrades. I had prepared for the trip in Milwaukee in August, reading memoirs of the period and catalogues about Jean-Michel Basquiat.

The Model of the Period

Jean-Michel is the late 20th century New York Apollo, the demi-god whose trajectory and career has become the lens through which the late ‘70s and ‘80s downtown culture is viewed. I had the singular fortune of a collaborative moment with him, which was recalled in an exhibition earlier this year at the Schunck Kunsthalle in Heerlen, The Netherlands – “Basquiat: The Artist and His New York Scene.”
That it was “his” scene was affirmed in Sara Driver’s film Boom for Real: The Late Teenage Years… (2018; streaming on multiple platforms). Howl! Happening gallery in NYC celebrated Sara's film with a very differently conceived exhibition, “Zeitgeist: The Art Scene of Teenage Basquiat”. In that one, everybody piled on.
Howl! gallery has become the locus for much of the commemorative exhibitionary work of the people involved during late 20th century downtown culture. And, as I was to discover, a sort of Lower East Side social club and senior center for some extraordinary artists.
The practice at Howl gallery is a continuous historical reflection generalized through exhibitionary procedure, mobilizing of personal archives, and expanded through panel discussions. Here I should wax philosophical, quote Walter Benjamin on history and memory, etc. Yes, surely it is that, as it always is. (Quote Herodotus here.) But it’s also a cohort growing old – and those who didn’t. Reflections overtake cultural workers as, in a sense, they run out of subjects and recycle their motifs, experiences, making sense of their lives and products as they drift slowly into temporal distance.
People didn’t pay attention then, but it was important! Even this artist who died was very significant for us then. So said Carlo McCormick about Nicolas Moufarrege, as an artist writing criticism; Moufarrege had a show up at the Queens Museum this fall.

Ambition Meets Resources

I want to write an “expanded memoir”… although I’m not sure what that means. At first I’d thought to catch up with what’s been written by academics about the period I lived. But I think now most of that is in journals, not books, and I have not kept up.

Defacement, painted by Jean-Michel Basquiat on the wall of Keith Haring’s studio in 1983, is about the death of Michael Stewart. An exhibition at the Guggenheim Museum this year recalled the event and its repercussions among artists.

Upon arriving in NYC, I realized I was unprepared to make use of the archives and libraries where I had reserved places. Moreover they were all in the process of transition, both physical and in their conditions of use. Bad timing. Access to archival collections has been both complicated and tightened, and, in the case of MoMA, was simply closed.
But my trouble wasn’t with libraries. It was with my own plan and intention. I want to write a useful book, clear in intention, that marks out experiences I feel are important for students of the period to understand, and to investigate further. So the ‘expansion’ is into questions, doors opening along the way of what I write, or which are left unopened only shown, or just a handle jiggled before moving on.

Trouble in the Library

Andrea Callard was Colab secretary during its earliest years. So a stint with her Colab files in the NYU research library was first on my list of archival tasks. NYU has aggregated their research collections. They had fortunately reopened after a renovation bare days before my arrival, however their access procedures have changed, requiring online requests for everything. The new system is still a little squeaky, and I myself had not changed gears.
The kind of bumbling around among the different archives and their collections that I recall from working there before is no longer possible. In years past one would enter the Fales collection, with its oil paintings and oriental carpets, and page through a book describing the collections, order folders from a box, be reminded of another connection, and other another box. Or go to Tamiment with its vitrines of extraordiary old political news, sparking new connections, and have a whole box put onto your desk.
Now everything must be submitted in advance online, and all must be prepared from the online descriptions. Contact with the material is entirely e-mediated. Moreover, there is no ‘item level description’ of folders, leaving one to guess what might be in them. A folder may contain only one card, or it might contain an undiscovered 12 page manuscript – you can’t know until you open it yourself. The people were nice and helpful for the most part, although there is always at least one type of archivist who really only wants to serve you one folder at a time, and wants you to sit at the desk until it comes. And when you go to lunch the box goes back to general storage, so you have to wait for it to come back out on the truck. Those are sqeaks.
So bumble one will, and bumble I did, although not in the way that I had hoped. Seated in the newly built antiseptic room with an overlook of the NYU housing project and its tree-lined streets I realized that I was going institutionally insane, and in fact wasting my time.

Into the Weeds with Early Colab

I have read things written about Colab that I think are basically not true. So I was with Andrea’s files to refresh my vague memories of those years of meetings. (My own papers from those years were destroyed by subtenants in a 1987 loft disaster.) After working with Andrea’s Colab box, I realized that during Colab’s first years there were very few written minutes, or even written agendas. In my ‘reconstructed memory’, I think what happened is that Andrea read aloud from her notes and asked if anyone had anything to add. Coleen Fitzgibbon mentioned that she had some audio recordings of early meetings, so that might indeed be verified.
The actual agendas of monies to be voted (or not) to ABC No Rio in 1980 are in Robert Goldman’s papers in his house, not at NYU, and not in ABC No Rio’s institutional archives, which I also visited.
Finally I realized that Andrea’s Colab box couldn’t answer many of my basic questions. Ergo, there is no administrative history of Collaborative Projects, no account of how the group functioned and how that evolved. So that’s a project for the future.

“Established 1978”

The group called Colab began to coalesce around 1977. The core of it was art students in the newly-established Whitney Independent Study Program. They were inspired by the older artists who talked to them – about the Art Workers Coalition of 1969-70, about European politics, about institutional prejudices and the realities of the art market. Most of those young artists also worked for the older ones. Out of this cloud of people, young artists working in various disciplines who knew each other from living downtown, a group formed. Many people didn’t believe in such a formation. Some opposed the not-for-profit incorporation which was necessary to apply for funds. Others hated meetings. So they drifted away, sometimes starting with a project and not continuing.
For example, I discovered – (again, not noted in the archival descriptions!) – a long text by James Nares about All Color News, the early cable TV news show that straddled Colab’s nascent period. Nares did not participate in ACN, although nearly 40 years later s/he made a film called The Street.

Well, that’s a start… on a planned series of posts around my researches in NYC in fall ‘19. Blogs turn into books, as happened with Occupation Culture, so the same thing is gonna happen here. Stay tuned….

LINKS

Curt Hoppe’s “Downtown Portraits”, Spring 2019
https://www.howlarts.org/event/curt-hoppe-downtown-portraits/
Image is from Bowery Boogie blog review of show at Bernaducci Gallery, May 2019;
https://www.boweryboogie.com/2019/05/standing-tall-with-curt-hoppes-downtown-portraits/

“Basquiat: The Artist and His New York Scene,” spring 2019, at Schunck, Heerlen, NL
https://basquiat.schunck.nl/exhibition/?lang=en
See also: review by 'Camee' at: https://www.amsterdamstreetart.com/basquiat-the-artist-and-his-new-york-scene/

Sara Driver, “Boom for Real” (2018)
https://www.boomforrealfilm.com/
(streaming on multiple platforms)

“Zeitgeist: The Art Scene of Teenage Basquiat”, at Howl arts gallery, 2018
https://www.howlarts.org/event/zeitgeist-the-art-scene-of-teenage-basquiat-2/

“Nicolas Moufarrege: Recognize My Sign” at Queens Museum, 2019-20
https://queensmuseum.org/2019/06/nicolas-moufarrege

Defacement, painted by Jean-Michel Basquiat on the wall of Keith Haring’s studio in 1983, is about the death of Michael Stewart
https://www.guggenheim.org/exhibition/basquiats-defacement-the-untold-story

NYU’s finding aid for Andrea Callard papers
http://dlib.nyu.edu/findingaids/html/fales/callard/

“All Color News” sampler at Ubuweb, ca. 1978
http://www.ubu.com/film/colab_news.html

nearly 18 minutes of James Nares’ "The Street" (2013), with audio by Thurston Moore
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2kMMpkN_F0

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

Interference Archive: de Brooklyn a Madrid



UNA EXPOSICIÓN DEL AUTÓNOMO INTERFERENCE ARCHIVE
con carteles de la serie "Celebrate Peoples History”
con catálogos y revistas, y otra propaganda gráfica producido por miembros de JUSTSEEDS, una red norteamericano de artistas radicales, trabajando para y dentro de movimientos sociales.
▲ Es parte de JACA 2019 extendida ▲
LUGAR: @ ABM Confecciones c/ Encarnación González, nº8 Bajo
Madrid – Puente de Vallekas
FECHAS ► Apertura mier. 12 junio 19:00-24:00►Abierto 13 y 14 Junio 18:00-21:00



a derecha: 2010 book of the CPH series
Este es la primera exposición en España de arte y publicaciones de estas importantes redes de artistas radicales y archivistas en los Estados Unidos.
El programa incluye: varias docenas de impresiones litográficas originales de la serie de carteles "Celebrate Peoples History" de artistas de la cooperativa Justseeds - pósters y fotos de exposiciones en el Archivo de Interferencia autónomo en Brooklyn - catálogos y publicaciones del Archivo de Interferencia durante 8 años de actividad – los seis numeros publicados de Signal: A Journal of International Political Graphics & Culture, y más.
Un expo coincidente con la JACA 2019 //
FECHAS ► Apertura mier. 12 junio 19:00-24:00►Abierto 13 y 14 Junio 18:00-21:00

La Cooperativa de Artistas de Justseeds es una red descentralizada de 29 artistas comprometidos con el compromiso social, ambiental y político. El archivo de interferencia en Brooklyn es un archivo autónomo de movimiento social. El archivo ha producido numerosas exposiciones de materiales de archivo con catálogos. Su misión es explorar "la relación entre la producción cultural y los
movimientos sociales". Josh MacPhee comenzó el proyecto de póster Celebrate Peoples History en 1998. Escribe:
“Los afiches de Celebrate Peoples History están arraigados en la tradición de hágalo usted mismo de propaganda política producida en masa y distribuida, pero se desvían para encarnar los principios de democracia, inclusión y participación grupal en la escritura e interpretación de la historia. Es raro hoy en día que un cartel político sea festivo, y cuando lo es, casi siempre se enfoca en un pequeño canon de individuos masculinos: Martin Luther King, Jr., Ghandi, Che o Mandela. En lugar de crear otro conjunto exclusivo de héroes, he generado un conjunto diverso de carteles que dan vida a los momentos de éxito en la historia de las luchas por la justicia social. Con ese fin, les pedí a los artistas y diseñadores que encontraran eventos, grupos y personas que hayan avanzado en la lucha colectiva de la humanidad para crear un mundo más equitativo y justo. Los carteles cuentan historias desde la posición subjetiva de los artistas, y con frecuencia son historias de desvalidos, escritos fuera de la historia. El objetivo de este proyecto no es contar una historia definitiva, sino sugerir una nueva relación con el pasado.


“Hoy en día, los carteles de CPH adornan las paredes de los dormitorios, apartamentos, centros comunitarios, aulas y calles de la ciudad. Se han impreso más de 125 diseños diferentes en los últimos 20 años, lo que suma más de 350,000 carteles en total. Aunque yo mismo he organizado y financiado estos carteles, siempre han sido un proyecto colectivo. "Más de 150 artistas han diseñado pósters, varias tiendas han hecho la impresión, docenas han corrido por la noche pegándolos en la calle y miles han ayudado a distribuirlos en todo el mundo".
La mayoría de los artistas del proyecto CPH pertenecen a la Cooperativa de Artistas Justseeds. Los artistas de Justseeds están comprometidos con el compromiso social, ambiental y político. “Con miembros que trabajan desde los EE. UU., Canadá y México, Justseeds funciona como una colaboración unificada de impresores de ideas similares y como una colección suelta de personas creativas con puntos de vista y métodos de trabajo únicos. Creemos en el poder transformador de la expresión personal en concierto con la acción colectiva. Con este fin, producimos portafolios colectivos, contribuimos con gráficos a las luchas populares por la justicia, trabajamos en colaboración tanto dentro como fuera de la cooperativa, construimos grandes instalaciones escultóricas en galerías y pasta de trigo en las calles, todo mientras que nos brindamos apoyo mutuo a diario. aliados y amigos ".
El proyecto autónomo de archivo de interferencia fue iniciado por Josh MacPhee y Dara Greenwald en 2011. MacPhee escribe: “La misión del archivo de interferencia es explorar la relación entre la producción cultural y los movimientos sociales. Este trabajo se manifiesta en una colección de archivos, publicaciones, un centro de estudio y programas públicos que incluyen exhibiciones, talleres, charlas y proyecciones, todo lo cual fomenta el compromiso crítico y creativo con la rica historia de los movimientos sociales. El archivo contiene muchos tipos de objetos que los propios participantes crean como parte de los movimientos sociales: carteles, folletos, publicaciones, revistas, libros, camisetas y botones, imágenes en movimiento, grabaciones de audio y otros materiales.



“A través de nuestra programación, utilizamos estos eventos culturales para animar historias de personas que se movilizan para la transformación social. Consideramos que el uso de nuestra colección es una forma de preservar y honrar las historias y la cultura material que a menudo se encuentra marginada en las instituciones principales. Como una organización completamente voluntaria, todos los miembros de nuestra comunidad son bienvenidos y alentados a dar forma a nuestra colección y programación; Somos un espacio para que todos los voluntarios aprendan unos de otros y desarrollen nuevas habilidades. "Trabajamos en colaboración con proyectos afines, y fomentamos el compromiso crítico y creativo con nuestras propias historias y luchas actuales".

Saturday, May 18, 2019

Jean-Michel and the Times Square Show in Heerlen



This post records my visit to an exhibition in Holland which contained a key part of my past, the Times Square Show. That experience I relected on in my memoir "Art Worker", which was built in part on these Art Gangs blog posts.

PIC: Jean-Michel Basquiat’s cover for “Rammellzee vs. K Rob” single, called the most valuable hip-hop record collectible; Red Bull did a retrospective of Rammellzee’s work in 2018, and produced an amazing 9-minute video for it

We recently trekked to Heerlen, a Dutch town not far from the touristic old city of Maastricht, to see "Basquiat: The Artist and His New York Scene." The curators chose to recollect the Times Square Show of 1980, Jean-Michel’s first public art exhibition, so like several other Colab artists, I had a piece in the exhibition. It’s a collaboration with Jean-Michel, actually, albeit somewhat inadvertent.
Why was the show in Heerlen? It was not clear. The city isn’t so exciting. It’s basically a busted mining town whose leaders have made a long series of bad urban decisions.
It has a deep history. The Romans built a camp there called Coriovallum in order to control a road junction, and the town was an agrarian center for centuries, bouncing often into the hands of various rulers. A coal mining boom at the turn of the last century brought climate-killing prosperity to the town, and they decided to raze their historic center. That is why tourists go to Maastricht. When coal got cheaper elsewhere starting in '65 (hooray global capitalism!), Heerlen lost 60,000 jobs.
As it seems was their habit, the city then demolished its major industrial landmarks, the tallest mine chimneys in Europe, called -- "Lange Lies" (tall Liz), and "Lange Jan" (tall John). They have a 12th century church and defensive tower (a combination you see also in Maastricht), but it was weirdly renovated inside into a blank nothing in the 1950s. A garden dwarf-style pilgrim statue smirks from a niche over the entrance.

Heerlen's Glaspalast. (Photo by Dirk van der Made)

I don't mean at all to laugh at Heerlen... but the author Thomas Bernhard (1931–1989) was born there, which tells you a lot. I love his writing, but it is seriously crazy and bleak.
They do have one jewel. The museum is housed inside an old department store, the Modehuis Schunck. It's now called the Glass Palace, built by Frits Peutz, and it is a startling building for 1935.
The restaurant on top of it is Michelin rated, and served me a “speciaal Basquiat-bier”, an IPA, which was, like the Glaspalast, startlingly good.


”Same Old Beer” by Brouwerij De Fontein at Brasserie Mijn Streek, Heerlen

I’ll have to read the catalogue to discover the special relevance Jean-Michel Basquiat’s story had for Heerlen, but it was clearly a big deal there. The museum did many special events and education projects around the show during its run. Banners were hung everywhere along the shopping street, and during our time in the museum troops of schoolchildren came through.
As an art tourist parachuting in from a global city, my main interest was in how the show dealt with “my” history. But still I wonder: Why Basquiat here?
Most of the art in the Times Square Show of 1980 dealt directly with urban themes. What did Heerlen get from this? Just a flash in the national pan? (The Queen visited.) Or some important cultural stimulus? A short plug for the catalogue says the NYC of the ‘70s and ‘80s “mirrors the post-industrial character of the city of Heerlen, the vacancies and drug problems that followed the region’s economic downturn” in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Hmmm...
Marc Miller was hired as a consultant for the show, and he promoted the extensive inclusion of work by Colab artists from the Times Square Show. Marc told me the curators had intended to include Dutch artists influenced by Basquiat and the graffiti movement. They didn’t. Maybe, fearing for their walls, the powers that be put the ‘ixnay’ on that part of the show. (I’ve seen that happen before.) Or they ran out of room.
There’s a monitor playing Manfred Kirchheimer’s 1981 documentary film Stations of the Elevated, the first to document the graffiti movement in New York City. Jean-Michel’s relations with graffiti artists like Rammellzee, the Iconoclastic Panzerist prophet of Afro-Futurism (1960?-2010), who dressed like a Japanese transformer and had his major art career in Europe are not explored. Al Diaz’s role in SAMO©, Basquiat’s first art project, is not mentioned. Diaz has recently revved up his art career after a strong showing in the Howl! Happening exhibition last year “Zeitgeist: The Art Scene of Teenage Basquiat.” That show coincided with the release of Sara Driver’s film Boom for Real: The Late Teenage Years of J-MB which was playing in the gallery. The film makes the case for the show, as various NYC people speak of the artist, like Lee Quiñones, who says, “He knew he only had a short time.” Diaz said the same.
It was fascinating to see the documents of the apartment J-MB shared with Alexis Adler in her photos of Jean-Michel and his objects, plus some drawings and texts he left her during the years. Not long after, he was hanging with other graffiti artists at Art-Rite editor Edit DeAk’s loft apartment in Soho, as a tagged-up wall excavated some years ago proved.
With his neo-expressionist cryptograms of American mestizo identity, Basquiat marked a major changing of the guard in “American art.” I was dismissive when Stefan Eins called Colab an art movement. Fashion/Moda (Fashion 时装 Moda МОДА), Eins’ project in the South Bronx, was a crucial pivot point during the late ‘70s-early ‘80s. But I get it now. “Colab” is not just the historic organization with the generic name (in full, Collaborative Projects, Inc.). It is a description of what was going on then, and in a way generally in post-modern art – multimedia experimentation with social relevance, and artists working together fluidly between projects, i.e., artists like musicians like filmmakers. All of this was wrapped up in NYC in the '60s – I am boiling it together with Fluxus, an important radical precursor movement with which Eins himself was involved -- '70s, and '80s, a multi-cultural anti-academic bohemia. So art historians in the future can talk about "colab" with the now-canonical Jean-Michel and David Wojnarowicz, both of whom did all of that.
(I’ve been blogging about Wojo’s work in anticipation of the big show coming to Reina Sofia museum in Madrid this May ‘19. One of the posts includes a consideration of the Times Square Show in relation to him.)
More specifically about the show, one thing I think they missed is Basquiat’s clear and close involvement with fashion, and the experimental radical clothing designers and marketing of the day. He was making t-shirts in Alexis Adler’s apartment. At the Times Square Show, after he left me in the lobby to deal with the imbroglio over the sign, he went directly upstairs to see the girls in the Fashion Lounge. He sprayed at least one mural on the wall there, and maybe he helped Mary Lemley and the others paint up some of the 500-pound bale of clothing that comprised the principal part of that installation. Sophie Vieille, a participant in that installation, tells the story on the website of the Hunter College exhibition, “Times Square Show Revisited” (2012).


Photo of 'rediscovered' wall painting made by graffiti artists visiting the late Edit DeAk's loft on Wooster Street during the late '70s, early '80s.

Jean-Michel’s work can be seen briefly in Andrea Callard’s slide show record of the TSS, which was clicking away in the gallery. It seems rather indifferent.
The perspicacious art critic Anthony Haden-Guest wrote of this fashion connection in an article for Vanity Fair not long after Jean-Michel's death, a pre-digital text now online. Haden-Guest tracks Jean-Michel into the lair of Andy. the premier "sellout" artist he most admired who was running a magazine dedicated to fashion and media celebrities, Interview.
"Visiting the actual Factory, he sold Warhol a few more Xeroxes for a dollar. Warhol gave him four or five cans of expensive Liquitex paint, which he slathered on more clothing and sold at Patricia Field’s shop on Eighth Street.
"Basquiat was by then a natural choice to star in a movie about downtown called The New York Beat. It featured Debbie Harry, was financed by Rizzoli, directed by the photographer Edo (later questioned in the [Andrew] Crispo [murder] case), written by Glenn O’Brien, and based loosely on Basquiat’s own life. ‘It never came out,’ O’Brien says, ‘because a couple of the Rizzolis went to the slammer.’"
The rest of the article is a harrowing read. I can’t go on with it. Basically, Jean-Michel was sucked up into the tornado of international jet set new wave art culture business. And, like his jazz heroes, he drugged himself up to get through it all. Which finally killed him.
I read Phoebe Hoban's Basquiat: A Quick Killing in Art (2004), which was dark enough. Haven’t yet tackled Jennifer Clement’s Widow Basquiat (2014) about his relationship with Suzanne Malouk. It’ll just put new perspective on my last sight of him, in an elevator in the Cable Building, riding up to work on his last NYC show. He was puffed up, looking woebegone and dazed. We didn’t say anything to each other.
Every step of his whirlwind trip to fame and death reveals some important aspect of the superheated moment when the art market went global.
Like David Wojnarowicz, Jean-Michel Basquiat is a kind of prism of his moment. And, like Wojo, Basquiat as a cultural figure represents the forceful emergence of a previously minoritarian position in American-Western art. Both were in their way history painters, the highest genre in the classic hierarchy of kinds of painting. I’m talking deep art history, what – climate apocalypse aside – can remain of these artists in 100 years. Basquiat was more. He was the Jackie Robinson of the western art market, the post-colonial ice breaker for waves of artists of African heritage who had previously been frozen out of the mainstream. Today his work commands some of the highest auction prices, long eclipsing stars like Jasper Johns.
As a prism of his times, Basquiat’s work and importance remains available for what we all, like School of Paris around Picasso, can get out of him, reflections of the intense interest in his work and story. It’s great for Colab, and for the artists of the Times Square Show, who can hitch a ride on the back of the great black whale.

LINKS

"Basquiat: The Artist and His New York Scene", Schunck, Heerlen, NL. Feb-June, 2019 https://basquiat.schunck.nl/

Heerlen – “It has a deep history”
I took all that from “Heerlen,” Wikipedia in English

Ashleigh Kane, “The story of SAMO©, Basquiat’s first art project”, Dazed Digital, September 2017
http://www.dazeddigital.com/art-photography/article/37058/1/al-diaz-on-samo-and-basquiat

"Zeitgeist: The Art Scene of Teenage Basquiat" at Howl! Happening Gallery, 2018
https://www.howlarts.org/event/zeitgeist-the-art-scene-of-teenage-basquiat-2/

Boom For Real: The Late Teenage Years of Jean-Michel Basquiat - Trailer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUsy5RObL2U
the writer of this blog flashes by in this trailer with a building shape on his head

Stream Sara Driver’s film here
https://www.boomforrealfilm.com/

"recently excavated tagged-up wall"
“151 Wooster: Where The Basquiat At?”, by Sheila, Gawker, December 2007
https://gawker.com/334080%2F151-wooster-where-the-basquiat-at
Historic graffiti mural discovered in Manhattan building, December 2007
http://grafarc.org/news/2007/12/historic-graffiti-mural-discovered-in-manhattan-building/

Stefan Eins
on Wikipedia
artist’s website – http://www.oneunoeins.com/

Fashion 时装 Moda МОДА
is on Wikipedia

the “imbroglio over the sign”
The story of the collaborative sign board I made with Basquiat is briefly told in the Schunck exhibition catalogue. It’ll be more fully described in my next book – Some Title TK from Some Publisher.

“Times Square Show Revisited” - Sophie Vieille interview; Hunter College CUNY art gallery, 2012
www.timessquareshowrevisited.com/accounts/sophie-vieille.html

Anthony Haden-Guest, “Burning Out,” Vanity Fair November 1988
https://www.vanityfair.com/news/1988/11/jean-michel-basquiat

classic hierarchy of kinds of painting
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hierarchy_of_genres

The blogger standing next to his signboard in Heerlen. And yes, indeed I did.

Friday, May 10, 2019

Wojnarowicz in Madrid #3: Notions of the Collaborative



The members of 3 Teens Kill 4 circa 1982

This research began with the intention to produce a screening event of some of the video and film collaborations of David Wojnarowicz, moving image “products” which MWF Video Club, Colab’s distribution project represented until 2002. I also thought it odd that a show of Wojnarowicz’s work was coming to Madrid, and none of his writing had been translated into Spanish.
As an early member of Colab, a founder of ABC No Rio, and later an art historian who wrote an MA on Dada and dissertated on NYC artists’ groups (as a book, Art Gangs, the title of this blog), I thought I knew a lot about collaboration. I do, and in my bones. But what scholars think and express in their specialized languages matters too, probably more.
A paper by Fiona Anderson, “Notions of the Collaborative in the Work of David Wojnarowicz” (Papers of Surrealism, No. 8, Spring 2010) lays out a series of ideas about his work with others which I find original and striking. Much of my experience and understandings, indeed even my fears and regrets – coincide with her observations. I will precis and comment upon her text in this blog post.
Just as Wojnarowicz began his art career as a writer, Anderson starts her scholarly consideration by turning to literary history – Robert Siegle’s Suburban Ambush (1989; now on my reading list), and his thesis that the downtown NYC writing of this period constitutes a “fiction of insurgency.” (Weirdly, in my outing as a video artist, the “war movie” I was working on when I met Wojnarowicz was precisely that.) She posits an ambivalence of alienation and belonging in artists’ positions within community, warning against its romanticization.
This is clear in Wojnarowicz’s writings, his deep commitment to a historical bohemian tradition of criminals and sexual outlaws. They’re very entertaining, occasionally profound; we love ‘em, but we all already know what rascals they can be. But when the broader creative community is sore oppressed, we need warriors; they are not often nice people.

“Historical Incoherence”

Anderson considers the writings of Pamela Lee on Gordon Matta-Clark, another great NYC artist who died young. Gordon – (I met him briefly also, as he yelled to me over a pile of marijuana he was bagging his opinion of a review of his work I had written) – was an incessant collaborator and inspiration to some Colab artists who worked with him. (Coleen Fitzgibbon, Peter Fend and Gerry Hovagimyan all assisted Matta-Clark.)
In my book Art Gangs I included collective formations around the Soho alternative spaces of the 1970s in my lineal account of artists’ groups in NYC. So I too was fascinated by the continuous communalizing turn in Matta-Clark’s work at 112 Greene Street – although to what degree these alternative spaces were collective formations is arguable. (Richard Kostelanetz’s episodic and personal book Soho: The Rise and Fall of an Artists' Colony, 2003, makes good sense of this.)
For Lee the “testimonials” of those who knew the artist produce “historiographic incoherence” in the work of history. Anderson however sees the mix of nostalgia and sadness in these accounts as productive, and as the product of the artist’s collaborations.

”Fiction of Insurgency”

The “fiction of insurgency” is part of the public relations for any new art wave or movement modernist times. The East Village artists, and especially their promoters, were very conscious of their posturing; Liza Kirwin describes the period as an art gallery movement. Anderson discusses gentrification, the fly in the ointment of this cultural moment, through Rosalyn Deutsche and Cara Gendel Ryan’s 1984 article. We may add Craig Owens’ riposte to Walter Robinson and Carlo McCormick’s major article on the scene in Art in America. Coming along fast behind them was the work of the late radical geographer Neil Smith with his gentrification index formula, and sociologist Christopher Mele’s book Selling of the Lower East Side which squarely blames artists for greasing the revaluation of the longtime slum district which priced out so many of its longtime residents.
That’s been my beat for decades, ever since our Real Estate Show in 1980. But we must reckon with the fact that most of the artists who took these political questions seriously then have been neglected by collectors and forgotten by institutions.
Writers like Carlo McCormick, Nicolas Moufarrege (whose text Anderson critique), and Walter Robinson, were publicists first. Their objective was to build the scene. They ignored the processes playing out before their eyes, leaving the political business of urban affairs – Anderson’s “critical engagement with the work and its environment” – to others, principally Lucy Lippard.

Punk to the Bone

I read Wojnarowicz’s position in this long-simmering artworld feud – (it’s about collaboration with capital, innit?) – as pure punk, or beat-punk. He adhered to bohemian tradition, by hating his success and the collectors who enabled it.
Wojnarowicz straddled the dialectic – “political” versus the “hedonistic” – through his participation in punk culture, i.e. the universal odium of young creative people throughout the USA for the revanchist turn of the Reagan 1980s. That’s clear from the names of punk bands – Born Against; Reagan Youth; Black Flag; Minor Threat; The Clash, and the band Wojnarowicz himself was in, 3 Teens Kill 4 No Motive.
Wojnarowicz’s work today is understood as political, and not only for gay rights and PWAs. Much of his mature imagery is specifically about the ruin and wreckage he senses in U.S. culture. Rather than join the local struggle on specific issues of displacement and racial oppression he beat around the bush of the universal, the natural cosmos and the march of gringo history.
The East Village – formerly known as the Lower East Side, or Loisaida, a name which residents today cling to – marks the lurid sunset of perhaps the last real U.S. bohemia, in the classic sense of poor artists living in a working class district. It was like that all over the USA, and now in most other world cities.

It Was Gonna to Be Like Paris

In this, and many other respects, the LES/EV of the 1980s compares directly with Montmartre of Paris a century before, as a recent exhibition in Madrid, “Toulouse-Lautrec y el espíritu de Montmartre” reminded me. Those artists too developed a festive culture as an economic platform for their work across media. In Paris it was cafe-concerts, shadow theater, humor magazines and an exploding art market for lithographs, then a recent process. In NYC it was nightclubs, a vibrant government-funded alternative sector, and mushrooming art galleries, many of them run by artists. In a further doubling, the East Village repeated in many aspects the West Village of the years before the Great War. The artists of Greenwich Village directly followed the lead of the Montmartrians, and in the ‘20s were themselves displaced by what sociologist Caroline Ware called “inmigration.” Ergo, to refute Deutsche and Ryan 30 years on, the disdain of East Village “romanticism” evident in their and other texts of the period ignores entirely the economic bases these affective positions made possible.
As Anderson points out, Wojnarowicz was deeply interested in Paris. He lived and loved there for a time and conceived the Rimbaud project. In this he coincided with a strong current of beat and punk historical identification, e.g., Patti Smith, Tom Verlaine.
A further parallelism with Montmartre is much darker – the epidemic of syphilis which claimed so many lives, among them Baudelaire, Goncourt, Maupassant, Seurat, Toulouse-Lautrec and Gauguin.
Just as the syphilis epidemic brought a new awareness and attention to the position of women in French society, so AIDS brought attention to gay life. While the triumph of the feminist movement in suffrage is well recalled, less remembered (although still deeply engrained) is the toxicity of the reaction. As the 20th century began, women endured a return of the antonymic stereotype of the virgin and the whore – la femme honnête et l'autre – reaching a lethal apogee in the proto-fascism of the Freikorps, described by Klaus Theweleit in his Male Fantasies.

Next: Crime, Drugs and Collaboration

LINKS and NOTES

MWF Video Club, NYC 1986-2002
http://www.brickhaus.com/amoore/

Fiona Anderson, “Notions of the collaborative in the work of David Wojnarowicz”, 2010
https://www.academia.edu/466039/Notions_of_the_collaborative_in_the_work_of_David_Wojnarowicz
I linked out of the David Wojnarowicz Knowledge Base - NYU Computer Science
https://cs.nyu.edu/.../the-david-wojnarowicz-knowledge-base/
Fiona Anderson expands on this work in her Cruising the Dead River: David Wojnarowicz and New York’s Ruined Waterfront (University of Chicago, forthcoming).

The Real Estate Show (1980)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Real_Estate_Show

title of Emily Listfield’s novel of the East Village, It Was Gonna Be Like Paris (1988)

"Toulouse-Lautrec y el espíritu de Montmartre", Caixa Forum, Madrid (closed)
https://caixaforum.es/barcelona/fichaexposicion?entryId=544677

Thursday, May 2, 2019

Wojnarowicz in Madrid #2: Old Times Square


Nan Goldin, photo of Kiki Smith, Christof Kohlhöfer, and David Wojnarowicz in the Tin Pan Alley bar

I was struck by a photo in a book I’ve had for years, the Lotringer interview anthology DW: A Definitive History of Six years on the Lower East Side (MIT/Semiotext(e), 2006). I hadn’t read it. Books, like art, can lie in wait for us.
The photo, by Nan Goldin, is of Wojnarowicz with Kiki Smith and Christof Kohlhöfer in the Tin Pan Alley bar near Times Square 42nd Street. Kiki, now famous, was a cook there, Nan a bardtender. Christof was art director for the East Village Eye monthly.
Times Square, where Wojnarowicz as a boy hustled older men (called “chicken hawks”), was the site in 1980 of an art show, produced by the Colab group, which was understood as epochal – the Times Square Show. That happened in June. Artists’ engagement in that NYC crossroads of crime and sex work continued at the Tin Pan Alley bar.
Sex workers, double feature movies, cheap fried food, open all night – Times Square was the hard cement playground of the lumpen. And a nighttime work site. In a 2015 interview, Nan Goldin herself recalled her work as a bartender:

“...at Tin Pan Alley, this tough bar on Times Square – back when it was Times Square, not Disney World – [I worked] for this amazing woman who politicized me. This was Maggie Smith. I worked at the bar first, and then Kiki Smith worked there, and Ulli Rimkus, who later opened Max Fish, and Cara Perlman and other female artists. There were a lot of street people, a lot of prostitutes and pimps and gang kids. Some of them really didn’t like what happened to the bar. It was a neighborhood bar. Maggie cooked. It was on 49th Street and there was nowhere to eat. So people from CBS Records and all these places started coming because it was the only place with good food. And it was in this Japanese tourist guide, so suddenly a lot of Japanese tourists would come in, and the Clash would come in, and the bar changed and the regulars didn’t really like it, having all these arty women working there.”

Goldin alludes to Disney World, which is the 42nd Street Times Square of today, with its manic visual overload of animated signage and wandering herds of family tourists. All that it was before the redevelopment is gone, just as the piers Wojnarowicz and so many other gay men cruised are gone, replaced by the Chelsea art gallery district, a luxurious park called the High Line, and, finally, the Whitney Museum of American Art, from whence comes the Madrid retrospective.
Once a scene is dead, the culture industry can make something of it. Maggie’s Tin Pan Alley tavern has become fodder for Hollywood. Stories of this tavern form the basis of an HBO TV series, “The Deuce” (slang name for old 42nd Street), which focusses of course on crime and sex work.


Painting by Jane Dickson

Spectacolor and Wild Style

Jane Dickson, a painter and Colab artist lived there during those years. She came to the area as a worker on the animated Spectacolor board – “a cool job in a crazy place”. She and her husband Charlie Ahearn took a loft on 43rd Street. Tin Pan Alley was her neighborhood bar. In a recent interview for her new book, Jane recalled:

“Maggie ran Tin Pan as a conscious social experiment in dialogue between extremely diverse and usually very separate groups; the strippers, the trannies, as they were called then [transvestites], who’d bring in clothes they’d ‘boosted’ from Macys to sell, the animators union, which met there weekly, downtown artists, Euro punks, like the Clash, Australian political activists, and performers like Sweet Honey and the Rock and many others. It was electric. Nan Goldin was bartender, and did early slide shows there, Kiki Smith was the chef and sold hand printed scarves and tee shirts there. Everyone mingled and sparked projects together.”

Jane produced and Charlie directed the epochal hip hop movie Wild Style (1983), which brought the volatile cultural movement of the South Bronx to first a national, then a global audience. They were both friends of David Wojnarowicz.
Jane's background was more typical of our group, even for a time of Wojnarowicz himself. “I grew up in the suburbs, which always felt like a false front, while the dense urban darkness I was supposedly being protected from felt real and necessary to understand. I’ve been exploring corners of American darkness ever since.”
As for the darkness Times Square was most famous for, she said: “As poor young artists some of my friends worked for a time as strippers or doing phone sex etc. until they found less draining gigs. Actual prostitution and drugs totally consumed those who got into it and except for David Wojnarowicz and Kathy Acker, no one I knew managed to survive those experiences, and make work about it.”

Not My Scene

I knew Tin Pan – (named for the early 20th century songwriters’ district of midtown… like “Frankie and Johnny”…) – but not well. From time to time I dropped in, usually for the holiday dinners Maggie would throw for those who didn’t or couldn’t go back home for those occasions. It was a kind of haven, with the rough part at the front, at the bar, the people of those streets. And deeper into the place people talking and eating at tables. I remember visiting Kiki as she cooked, amidst the intense crazy chaos of a dinner rush.

Kiki Smith, Untitled (Severed Finger), 1980. Collection Jeffrey Deitch.
What must that have been for Wojnarowicz? He had many relations with artists there, and was on the cusp of a serious career. He must have felt a sense of double comfort, with the old street life he’d known as a child flowing in like a tidal wash, and his more recently discovered art world also around him.
From his cruising diaries, early in 1980:

“There’s a discreet pleasure I have in the walking of familiar streets, streets familiar more because of the faraway past than for the recent past, streets that I walked down odd times while living amongst them, seen through the same eyes but each time the eyes belonging to an older boy, spaced by summers and winters and geographical locations. Each time different because of the companions I had previously while walking those streets. I can barely remember or recall the senses I had had when viewing the streets years arelier, my whole change in psyche, I mean. Yet there’s still a slight trace of what I felt left, a trace filled with the unconcerned dreams and tragedies and longings that make up thoughts before the seriousness of age sets in.”
In the Shadow of the American Dream, p. 145.

Wojnarowicz was a man of the streets and roads. I think of Holger Cahill, a modernist figure, writer, critic and curator, who also “tramped” the country as a youth and did not pursue formal education. He was later director of the Museum of Modern Art and ran the Federal Arts Project. The time when that kind of rise in the artworld is possible, even admirable, seems to have passed.

Ulli Rimkus, finger-paint portraits Tin Pan Alley, by Cara Perlman, 1981-82

The Traces Scatter Out...

The nexus of art and crime lived at Tin Pan Alley passionately, ambisexually. That nexus Penny Arcade insists is vital for art. A longtime theater artist, Penny (Susana Ventura) is an eloquent voice who decries what has been lost. Inarguably the general lot of western man (and woman) has been improved by the normalization of homosexuality. But what has vanished is exactly that edge of danger, of life more vividly lived, which Wojnarowicz explored so fervently.
I remember a panel discussion where Samuel Delaney, who wrote Times Square Red, Times Square Blue (1999) recalled the paradise/inferno of gay sex that marked his youth. Delaney lamented the passing of this zone of proletarian amuseument. The architect Robert Stern, whose books chronicle the redevelopment, laughed out loud. A terrible sound, the very boorish bray of Trumpian New York.
Do I and others long for a return to a time of criminalized homosexuality, a terrifying epidemic disease, violent street crime, ruinous drug addiction, and blind eyes turned to domestic violence and hate crimes? Of course not. But the bathwater of those babies that were thrown out was vital to the life of culture in New York City.

Postscript: There's no mention of the Times Square Show of Colab in Wojnarowicz's published diaries of that period. (There's 1000s of pages in the Fales Library of course; only some were published.) But it's hard to imagine he was unaware of it. It was big news in the downtown artworld, and it made careers. Among those was Jean-Michel Basquiat, who first showed there publicly at age 20. That part of his brief life is profiled in a show now in Heerlen, a Dutch city not far from Maastricht. That show, at the Schunck Kunsthalle, is closing soon.

Next: MWF Video Club Tries to Make Business

LINKS:

Nearly all the issues of the East Village Eye (including the one with Wojnarowicz’s text) are digitized online at editor Leonard Abrams' website
https://www.east-village-eye.com/issues-year.html

“The Times Square Show Revisited,” exhibition at Hunter College art gallery, 2012
www.timessquareshowrevisited.com/

A Conversation With Nan Goldin on the 30th Anniversary of The Ballad of Sexual Dependency photographic series, by Rebecca Bengal, October 2015
https://www.vogue.com/article/nan-goldin-interview-ballad-of-sexual-dependency-30th-anniversary

TV series on HBO "The Deuce"
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Deuce_(TV_series)

Jane talks about her book Jane Dickson in Times Square (Anthology Editions, NY, 2018) with Fused · On November 12, 2018
https://www.fusedmagazine.co.uk/jane-dickson-in-times-square/

Wild Style - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Style

Holger Cahill
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holger_Cahill

Penny Arcade on the Professionalization of Performance Art, with Geraldine Visco,December 31, 2014
https://hyperallergic.com/172190/penny-arcade-on-the-professionalization-of-performance-art/

Cara Perlman: Finger-Paint Portraits, Tin Pan Alley, 1981-82
http://gallery.98bowery.com/exhibition/cara-perlman-finger-paint-portraits-tin-pan-alley-1981-83/

"Basquiat: The Artist and His New York Scene" at Schunck, Heerlen, NL 2 Feb-2 June 2019
https://basquiat.schunck.nl/exhibition/?lang=en


Monday, April 29, 2019

David Wojnarowicz Comes to Madrid



from the photo series "Arthur Rimbaud in New York", by David Wojnarowicz. The location is Times Square, where the young DW was a hustler

I’m reading lots of texts by David Wojnarowicz now, preparing for a screening of his collaborative film and video works alongside the show opening in Madrid this spring.
As with most artists entering the canon of U.S. art, the work that David Wojnarowicz did in collaboration with others has been obscured. Since I know this work pretty well from the NYC East Village ‘80s time, and I live in Madrid, I thought it my duty to try to bring some of it to light. The show coming to the Reina Sofia museum, “History Keeps Me Awake at Night” (29 mayo – 30 septiembre, 2019; it was at the Whitney in NYC last year), is a major moment of remembrance of those fevered years in NYC I lived through.
Many didn’t. Wojnarowicz died at 38. I’m three decades past him now. While he was alive, I was running a video distribution project out of my apartment called MWF Video Club. It was a 1986 project of the artists’ group Colab. The poet Michael Carter worked with me on it.
By then Colab had flamed out as a video- and filmmaking group. At MWF we were pushing the group’s back catalogue of titles. The filmmaking action at that moment was the “Cinema of Transgression,” so named by would-be schlockmeister and pop avant-gardist Nick Zedd. Nick published a zine called the Underground Film Bulletin. His cronies were cranking out uniformly dark and troubled shorts reflecting their own dismal view of human relations, rough sex and poison love.
Artist-made cover for Richard Kern films, 1980s

From the distributor’s point of view – and we were pushing VHS videotapes as hard as we could at (if not into) the commercial market – this amounted to a kind of full court press by parvenu no-budget independents on the slasher and horror film genres.
Nick Zedd was traipsing up and down the streets of NYC selling his videos directly to stores. That was exactly what MWF was supposed to be doing. (Although we were too lazy – “M-W-F”, you see?) So we started pushing Nick’s stuff, and soon his pals Richard Kern, Casandra Stark, Tessa Hughes-Freeland, and others. Michael Carter was more plugged into this gang than me, since he edited the art and literature magazine Redtape. He developed numerous titles from Cin of T artists for distribution by MWF, among them the trailer for Wojnarowicz’ most substantive film collaboration with Tommy Turner called “Where Evil Dwells”. This was intended as a feature film loosely based on the story of Ricky Kasso, the “Satan teen” murderer who vowed he’d chase his victim to hell, then killed himself in jail.
Wojnarowicz worked with Richard Kern, first as actor and then as actor and scenographer (meaning he built the climactic sets for “You Killed Me First”). These were spun out into art installations at a gallery called Ground Zero. James Romberger and Marguerite Van Cooke, who ran that project, later worked with David on the extraordinary graphic novel “7 Miles a Second.”
In the years since his death, much of Wojnarowicz’ full story has come out, through his powerful writing, a doorstop biography by C. Carr, a writer on performance art, and the oral history work undertaken by Sylvere Lotringer, DW: A Definitive History of Five or Six Years on the Lower East Side (2006). This latter book focusses on the artist’s collaborations, speaking with those who worked with him.
(As I wrote this blog post, I stumbled upon the “David Wojnarowicz Knowledge Base” at NYU Fales Library, which holds his papers. So the mushrooms of scholarship continues apace – in English, natch.)
The literature on the Cinema of Transgression is more sparse. It’s a minoritarian moving image movement. In Jack Sargeant’s Deathtripping: The Cinema of Transgression (1995), an interview by Jeri Cain Rossi pins the artist in “the Reagan ‘80s,” a decade of shock for thoughful young people as the USA plunged into a revanchist period. Harsh puritanical voices demonized the weak and vulnerable. The AIDS virus devastated those very people, as heartless “Christians” cackled in glee.
More than his x-ray Rimbaudian vision as a writer, and his faux-naive surrealist painting and allusive photographic collages, it was the titanic and eloquent rage that Wojnarowicz summoned in his last years which made him famous. His art work sold like hotcakes, and he was recognized as a major figure of the East Village art years. But the sum of him was more. “Like an irate guardian angel,” Holland Cotter wrote in the NY Times, “...Wojnarowicz was there when we needed him politically 30-odd years ago. Now we need him again.”

LINKS

Wojnarowicz show coming to the Reina Sofia museum
https://www.museoreinasofia.es/en/exhibitions/david-wojnarowicz

MWF Video Club catalogue
http://www.brickhaus.com/amoore/

Colab, aka Collaborative Projects
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colab

Nick Zedd
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nick_Zedd

Michael Carter
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Carter_(poet)

Redtape at Fales Library, NYU
http://dlib.nyu.edu/findingaids/html/fales/redtape/

climactic sets for “You Killed Me First” at Ground Zero gallery
https://cs.nyu.edu/ArtistArchives/KnowledgeBase/index.php/You_Killed_Me_First_Installation_8

7 Miles a Second
http://fantagraphics.com/flog/7-miles-a-second-by-david-wojnarowicz-james-romberger-marguerite-van-cook-previews-pre-order/

About the David Wojnarowicz Knowledge Base
https://cs.nyu.edu/ArtistArchives/KnowledgeBase/index.php/About_the_David_Wojnarowicz_Knowledge_Base

Bibliography
https://cs.nyu.edu/ArtistArchives/KnowledgeBase/index.php/Bibliography--Articles_on_Wojnarowicz

NEXT
Colab, MWF Video and Types of Collaboration

Monday, June 25, 2018

“Dada Ruso” and DandyDada in Madrid


This post was written for the "blogedada", an inversion of the unpublished "Dadaglobe" of Tristan Tzara. It is a project of the Mobius artists' group of Boston. This is a duplicate post.

The Reina Sofia museum in Madrid has mounted a show for the summer, “Dada Ruso.” It's grand; it's good; although much of it is familiar to viewers of other Russian modernist art shows. But that is the aim of curator Margarita Tupitsyn's exhibition, to reframe that dense tumultuous past of cultural production during the Revolution's centennial years in terms of Dada. This Dada isn't the fun dada of its Fluxus grandchild. Rather it is manically serious, a “laughing past the graveyard” Dada of survivalist absurdism. Everything weird, deranged, aggressively crazy that artists might get up to fits into this Dada box.
The early 20th century modernism of Russia was radically heterodox, and grew up in a hothouse of social imperatives. It was an “everythingism”, not one of the classic movements we know from the west. Dada was a war baby, although a war differentially felt in Dada's different locales. Dada's centennial year was celebrated in 2016. A century ago, that was the second year of a round of appalling massacres. The Great War was nasty in Russia as well, where it led directly to the Revolution, and thereafter a civil war. There were social and political urgencies behind all the art of that time of a culture dyed in blood, frenetically dancing and laughing to forget.
“Wait,” I hear. “1916? Who decides?”
As in all things to do with vintage modernist art, it's the Swiss of course. The Cabaret Voltaire Dada-grounded museum called it. That date is hooked to the refugees/draft refusers who gathered there and were organized by Tristan Tzara. (This blog is named for one of his ventures.) The Cabaret Voltaire house museums continues strong today in the Dada spirit. Reverend Billy and his gang were there last year, performing “Trump Depression Hotline”. We're sad now, but we will be more sad.


New York Dada preceded Zurich, but it developed less in the shadow of European war than in the warm waters of private patronage – the Arensbergs, Alfred Stieglitz, Marius de Zayas, etc.. The New York Dadas swam amidst a public curious about that weird modern art and the bohemian ways of those who made it, a public whose children were not yet being slaughtered for no good reason.
A key thing Margarita Tupitsyn did in “Dada Ruso” was include a bunch of women. Works by Varvara Stepánova, Liubov Popova, the short-lived Olga Rozanova and others were hanging alongside the canonical men. But they're not fun loving, not like Sophie Taeuber-Arp with her puppets, nor even Hannah Höch. These gals were serious on this ride, doing cubist, suprematist, futurist, and finally constructivist work alongside the men. Every one in every photo is glowering at the camera.
“Dada Ruso” is not the Guggenheim's massive 1992 "The Great Utopia: the Russian and Soviet avant-garde, 1915-1932". But it's got more film in it, and lots of Mayakovsky, which is always great. We're closer to Russia here, so loans are likely cheaper.
As part of the activities around the show, my friend Gloria G. Durán was speaking down in the basement as part of an unusual series – “The Radical Heterodoxy of Dada,” directed by Servando Rocha.
Gloria's talk was called “Dandydada: Cupleteras, Performers and Other Things from a Possible National Dada”. She wrote a book called “Dandysmo y contragénero: Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven, Djuna Barnes, Florine Stettheimer, Romaine Brooks” examining women of or with the Dadas. (Dadas? Romaine Brooks? Well, the dandified subject of her painting “Una, Lady Troubridge” is wearing a monocle, like Tristan Tzara, and she has with her two Dadahunds, so....)
Gloria's talk was dense and delightful – dense because she was navigating the strange waters of early 20th century nervous afflictions during the rise of psychiatry as they were interpolated into comic songs, and how these comic songs expressed different cultural positions of women, and all this in relation to Dada – and delightful because she was accompanied by a comic singer, Laura Inclán, who performed some of these songs in a convincing alto voice. Ms. Inclán herself is Dadaistic by marriage, as she is the partner of the great clown Leo Bassi, founder of the Iglesia Patólica (as in "pataphysical").
The song form she explicated is “cuplé,” short comedic songs with limerick-like verses. The popularity of the form in Madrid was coincident with Dada, and the vogue of psychoanalysis. Some of the songs took off from characterizations of neurasthenia (today understood as chronic fatigue), with a performer languidly swanning about, perhaps punctuated with epileptic attacks. Others were in the vein of “sicalíptica” – a weird invented word, based on a mishearing, but later etymologized as “From gr. Sykon, vulva + aleiptikos, which is good for rubbing” – frankly erotic, with a tint of mischief or malice. Oddly, Salvador Dalí continued to use the word, its meaning by then forgotten, merely connoting some kind of mysterious oddity, in Spanish TV appearances in the 1960s.
Some of the classic cuplés were performed by Gloria's friend:

“La Vaselina” concerns a bride who is given a jar of the lubricant for her wedding night, and faux-innocently inquires, “What could this be for?”

Here's a later version:



She also performed "La Pulga". Here's a TV version of the song, with audience interaction.



When I queried her, Gloria said that this 1917 cuplé was one of her favorite:



Also called “cuplés” today are the raucous satirical songs of the carnival groups of Cádiz noted for their wild costumes. The groups are nearly all men, and their songs are often political in content. Here's one in which "Vikings" are wearing kitchenware, rather like the Baroness Elsa:



In terms of the show, all of this falls into the zone of popular culture, widely seen as transient whereas art is if not eternal, at least longer lasting. Art makes the rules. Popular culture chases the whims of fashion. Art is for the ages, pop is for money. But modernism was all about busting modes, and the rebels used everything at hand.
The organizer of the course at the museum, Servando Rocha seems to be something of a Spanish Stewart Home. A thinker of "antropofagia" and the "cannibal faction," his view of Dada is dark:
"The dadaists fed on the faces of the primitive, of the desires without repression, of psychoanalysis and the occult. They vindicated, in an aggressive tone, the 'dictatorship of the spirit' while embracing the revolution of the soviets. Dadaism became strong because of its determination to walk through the darkness between which it finally found a convulsive, unstable and unpredictable region, where dreams and violence were confused with those ungovernable moods."
He sees Dada as a self-annihilating movement, a kind of artistic suicide, [NOTE: Dada-Anti-Dada] which is why it can come back to life so often in later periods. Yet very much in political terms.
In a 2013 interview he speaks about his book La facción caníbal. Historia del vandalismo ilustradoes:
“Jacobins, hooligans, psychopaths, dada, surrealism, the lyricists, punk ... The cannibal faction traces a historical journey through vandalism as vanguard.... Enlightened vandalism has always sought to create a counter-power, to desacralize culture.”
Since that interview, Rocha's press, La Felguera, has continued to crank it out, elaborating his thems. They publish the magazine Agente Provocador, and books by Alan Moore (not me).
In addition to producing the course, Rocha led Dada tours of Madrid during “Dada Ruso,” including the sites of work of prolific writer and first class character Ramón Gómez de la Serna. As the resident king of avant gardists de la Serna received visiting Paris Dadaist Tristan Tzara on a visit in 1929. Tzara made a dramatic entrance at Serna's tertullia (discussion group), the notorious Sacred Crypt in the cafe Pombo.

De la Serna in his office, 1930. Serna used the dense collages of images he made to think up themes and lines for his newspaper columns. (Today the actual site is part of the Hotel Wellington, but the office has been recreated in Museo de Arte Contemporáneo at Conde Duque in Madrid. Pic: Archivo Alfonso AGA; in elmundo.es)

As for the women....
Well, not-a-Dadaist Marxist feminist and Bolshevik minister Alexandra Kollontai is still read.



NOTE [Dada-Anti-Dada]
“Dada doubts everything. Dada is an armadillo. Everything is Dada, too. Beware of Dada. Anti-dadaism is a disease: selfkleptomania, man's normal condition, is Dada. But the real dadas are against Dada.” Quote of Tristan Tzara, repr. in 'The Dada Painters and Poets', ed. Robert Motherwell (1951). Dada Manifesto on Feeble Love and Bitter Love, sct. 7, La Vie des Lettres, no. 4, Paris (1921) – WikiPedia

Russian comic theater caricature, 1926, from themusicalmagazine.ru