This issue of an exhibition
putting the emphasis on curatorship leads me to find a way
to show together
art works coming from different cultural contexts in the
same space, despite its small size. Since Magiciens de
la Terre, it has been a constant goal for me to break the
borders that modernity has erected to protect itself. Considering
that cultures have an equal value because they represent
the way human beings relate to the external world and their
environment, there is no point in drawing a line between
the different levels of technology they have reached.
Through a paradoxical
process modernity has helped lend to the recognition of
other cultures and different esthetical canons. It has
even used them and included them in its quest for new territories
in art. But, at the same time, Western civilization could
not stop its will to dominate the world and to become a
colonial empire, it put aside the authors - until very
recently - and declared itself universal because of its
incorporation of the others and its very large level of
knowledge and information. Hence it forgot that having
freed itself from religion, it condemned all the practices
linked to faith and magic carried out by communities to
be relegated to a strange no man's land. What has constituted
art for centuries and makes the core of museum collections
has been suddenly relegated to the past by Hegelian philosophy.
What is true for us may not be true for others. The difference
between the elaborate strategies of Western art are certainly
quite far from the practices of Ethiopian traditional healers.
Nevertheless, they are contemporary in the way they can
share the same time and space and they are thus aware of
each other's activity.
I have tried
for years to meet such 'remarkable men' (Peter Brook) and
show their visual work as far as they can meet the understanding
and the sensitivity of a Western public. In the last decade,
many curators have opened up to what was called the periphery.
In my opinion they have done it in a very shy way. There
is today a sort of trend among artists coming from other
continents, but it concerns mostly artists who have adopted
the methods and the strategies of Western contemporary
art. The very idea of installation certainly has permitted
a lot of contacts and interplay, in so far as it allows
a great flexibility. Foreign artists can include elements
of their own culture in a more authentic way than painting
allowed. Stretched canvas always conveys the idea that
the medium is the message. There have been many exhibitions
whose topics were questioning either identities or nomadism,
passage, travels, border crossing, etc. But almost none
of them had the courage to question our system and its
categories of art vs. craft or religious vs. lay individuals
and communities. This requires a real revision of art history
the way it has been written for a few centuries, i.e.,
in a totally Euroamerican-centered way.
On the other hand,
the ignorance of the art world center toward Native American
art is surprising. It is obvious that illustrative and
folkloric works have nothing in common with innovative
contemporary art. Nevertheless, the dominance of the theory
of critical distance has ignored some highly interesting
works. If contemporary art is not so much interested in
overtaking formal solutions from the arts of populations
without writing, there has been a constant interest in
rituals practiced by these communities (Jackson Pollock,
Jean Rouch). When I was doing the research for the exhibition
Magiciens de la Terre, I enquired about medicine-men and
artists who would possibly have taken over the tradition
of sand paintings linked to healing rituals. Christianization
and the development of stereotyped 'Indian' images and
craft have not helped much for the survival of those rites.
After a long quest, my friend Mark Francis had the chance
to meet Joe Ben (born 1958), son of a medicine-man, who
is able to do ritual painting as well as personal art creation
on sand. He is a specially gifted artist in the way he
draws lines with colored mineral powder. His works rely
on a cosmic background. They result from intense involvement
and meditation. When using traditional patterns, Joe Ben
takes care to transform them to avoid sacrilege. The ephemeral
quality of the work, its refined execution and its deep
spiritual input make it exceptional. I could never understand
why his work received no attention from New York. This
deeply loaded work became the core of the curatorial project
I felt compelled to undertake. Combined with a few other
works of different continents and cultures, it is considered
here in the light of its origin: a drawing made of sand
and minerals that helps to cure people.
Group shows gather
different works around a common denominator that can be
either conceptual or formal. The ideal is to combine both,
but it usually comes down to stress an already existing
group of works and to re-assert history. To gather four
artists around an anthropological idea has something of
a dadaist absurdity. This is where its real meaning lies.
Because it forces one to think about differences and not
similarities, heterogeneity against homogeneity. The world
of thoughts and ideas generates such incredibly varied
formal expressions that it results in the present time.
And not everything can be explained by history - a typical
Western stereotype. This is why I still think - against
many reviewers and critics - that big exhibitions are necessary
and useful because they convey this feeling of contradiction
and complexity that may be lacking in smaller exhibitions
where visitors can always classify the few items in given
categories.
The cupboard hosts
La pharmacie bretonne (The Brittany Drugstore) of Daniel
Spoerri (born 1930). It follows logically the assemblages
and found objects of Magie a la noix (Peanut magic) that
he had gathered on the island of Simi (1966-67). Water
protects and cures, baptism celebrates the entry into Christianity
and the sources have magic power. The 117 bottles, duly
classified, originate from sources and wells in Brittany
(Bretagne). They all possess specific curative and prophylactic
virtues. A map allows the viewer to locate them. Their
history and special skills have been consigned in a book.
Kept in the closed cupboard, the precious waters are not
reachable for those who would like to test all of them
and get a total cure.
Based on the description
of their patient's ailments, Gera (1941-2000) and Gedewon
(born 1939), two traditional Ethiopian doctors, make drawings
of figures in their own personal style to treat the specific
sickness. At the beginning of the 1970s, Jacques Mercier,
a researcher at the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique,
Paris, discovered their talismanic drawings. As a result
of the encounter, the two Ethiopian scholars decided to
become artists as well.
Following are
extracts from two articles by Jacques Mercier:
The Ethiopian
religious authorities always looked at medicine with
suspicion, accusing it of being mistrustful of God. Gera
nonetheless practiced it, more or less in secret, apart
from his religious studies. He communicated with the
spirits; he treated the sick with plants, prayers and
talismans. He learnt from a monk that the talismanic
art is a secret from Heaven, revealed by angels and demons
to a few “sagesâ€: Enoch, Solomon, or again Alexander
the Great. The prototype of the talismans is the seal
of God the Father. As a form of writing before the invention
of writing as such, they are the origin, no longer understood,
of all known forms of writing. The Ethiopian talismanic
art reveals a body of “wisdom†which, historically, draws
on the same sources as the Jewish Cabbala and Arabic
Alchemy. (…) It owes its extraordinary development to
the local cultural context, in which the image has become
emancipated from the Christian dialectic, and where possession
is a favoured interpretation of sickness. Talismans are
not illustrations of prayer, but act by themselves on
the spirit through the eyes of the possessed person.
Gedewon situated
his talismans firmly in the contemporary world, describing
them as 'study and research talismans'. He filled a notebook
with drawings of talismans for me in 1975, just as Gera
was starting to use coloured inks to draw the double
lines of his talismans. (…) He set out the classic themes
of talismans to the Names of God and of certain angels.
(…) As to his drawing style it is strictly talismanic,
in that it consists only of faces incorporated into a
more or less complex architecture of double lines. (…) 'What
you have to do, he says 'is to ask the sick person to
describe the contacts and visions he had when he fell
ill, and to inscribe these colours and forms in the talisman,
accompanied by suitable Names of God. The demons take
on changing appearances: bees, flies, birds, arms, eyes,
flowers, stones, etc.' (…) The aggressive spirit, seeing
its own appearances in the talisman, will cry out and
flee, as through burned. By proceeding in this way, he
is prevented from gaining access to the human body. The
talisman is a prohibition. And its form has to do with
a strategy of tension. (…) Gedewon's talismans are surfaces
that proliferate to infinity, frontiers that bring into
being spaces which they simultaneously separate.
Cai Guo-Quiang (born
1957), a Chinese artist living in New York, has shown,
like his friend Huang Yong Ping, a great interest in traditional
Chinese pharmacy. His huge installation Cultural melting
bath: Projects for the 20th century invites the visitor
to bathe in a pool of water containing medicinal herbs
with therapeutic properties. The sculptures of Moxacautery - For
Africa, 1995 were made by an African artist. This piece
symbolizes therapy for the society by applying moxibustion
to specific points on two human figures (one male and one
female). Furthermore, the points are also used as the symbol
of social problems that trouble the African continent.
The moxa sticks consist of a certain therapeutic herb that
has very similar effects as marijuana. They are good for
treating headaches and itchiness and can tranquilize as
well as enhance male sexual potency (accelerating the vitality
of sperm when applied to the genitals). Being seduced and
provoked by smelling the fragrance from the burning moxa
sticks, the audience will also experience the relaxation.
Using anthropology
to interpret art allows a larger scope encompassing material
culture from other continents. It could help possibly also
to question some of the dogmas of actual Western contemporary
art like critical distance or deconstruction. A similar
set of delayed communication, which is fundamental for
art, can then be found in works from different cultures.
Jean-Hubert Martin © 2002
The title of the
exhibition refers to Jacques Mercier Art That Heals: The
Image as Medicine in Ethiopia (New York: The Museum for
African Art, 1997). Title credited by Jacques Mercier to
Suzan Vogel.
press release:
The dominance
of present art theory tends to make us forget old functions
that are sometimes still very much alive in non-western
cultures and that may be revived in western contemporary
art.
Beauty was in
the past often connected with religious activity. People
honour and worship gods with the most beautiful things
they have. But also healing rituals involve an aesthetic
dimension. The Greek philosophical idea of the connection
between goodness and beauty seems irrelevant for post-modern
art, especially because the meaning is more important than
the formal expression or better the formal expression has
to be determined by the idea and the meaning.
Nevertheless the
question of this connection of beauty with the good health,
the wealth of the body, is coming back to us through artists
from other cultures. Illness and suffering are present
in the works of Beuys and Tapies for instance to a point
where it is not clear whether the fetishist aspect is just
external or has played a curative role. The anthropological
point of view seems to become ever growing in art. It allows
a certain communication between works of different cultures,
even if it is a sort of delayed communication, corresponding
to the specificity of art.
Gera and Gedewon
in Ethiopia are scholars using traditional medicine. They
make talismanic paintings that are used to cure the patients
who consult them. The paintings or drawings are made according
to different rules inherited from the traditional knowledge
and connected with the Old Testament. Each uses them with
a personal input and style. According to the diseases or
disorders described by the patient, they make a drawing
that is supposed to help him get things together again.
Joe Ben, a Navajo
Indian in New Mexico, is practicing the traditional sandpainting
that he inherited from medicine men. The person to be healed
is placed in the middle of the painting made out of coloured
mineral powders. He then attends a ceremony with long chants
and the sandpainting is destroyed at the end of the ritual.
Joe Ben is using this technique either with the traditional
style and motives or in a very free personal way.
Cai Guo-Qiang,
a Chinese artist living in New York, has done a set of
works reflecting traditional Chinese medicine. Two bodies
hanging horizontally are covered with burning sticks that
heal the part of the body that they cover.
Daniel Spoerri's "La Pharmacie
Bretonne", a traveling pharmacy packed with the healing
waters of Brittany.
Mr. Martin
is General Director of the Museum Kunst Palast, Düsseldorf,
Germany |