Issue 1/2005 - Past Forward


Empty Pedestals (Part I)

On Dalibor Martinis\' performances of climbing onto the empty pedestal of Tito and becoming a metalworker – like Tito

Ana Peraica


Icons as symbols

Since the ZKM symposium Iconoclash, it has become quite popular to deal with the theme of iconoclasm. Still, two of Dalibor Martinis’ performances, which focus on the blown-up monument of Tito, are rather plugged into an unarticulated political and cultural dialogue and thus the inherent dilemma of popular culture, politics and art. They therefore become topological, but also question the content of the icon.

It was not often in ex-Yugoslavia - as was in the case in “festivals of iconoclasm” (Strabinsky) in other socialist countries, especially in Russia - that monuments were removed. Tito separated from the Soviet Bloc as early as 1948, so Socialist Realism did not dominate production longer than 1951. Still, in this short space of time and even later on - outside the context of art - a number of monuments was built, mainly representing Tito and the specific theme of »unknown heroes.« Both of these themes are topological rather than topical, as the unknown hero represented no one in particular, and Tito has also become a similar symbol.

Monuments on both of these themes were presented in public places in such large numbers of copies that they lost any connection to what they were signifying. Perhaps the most interesting was Augustincic’s (1948) monument depicting Tito in a heavy coat. This monument was blown up during the night of 26/27 December 2004 at its »original« site, Tito’s birthplace Kumrovec, which has become as sort of theme-park.

Judging by the way the deed was announced, it would seem that the intention here was not to destroy the icon or the symbol - as both seem to be indestructible and are re-emerging in movie culture – but to conquer a symbolic place, the birthplace that today is the only physical reference to the person named Tito. At a time when movie culture refers to his eternal comeback, iconoclasts attacking a sculpture seem pretty old-fashioned, even though they themselves may have unconsciously been influenced by these films.

[b]Iconoclastic revenge on »the name of the father«[/b]

Contrary to demolitions of sculptures that took a much longer time – for example, the taking down of the Berlin Wall (1989) – in this case a monument was blown up. Blowing things up, always an honorable task in partisan iconography, is a topic that has been dealt with through a number of heroic characters in the post-WW2 movie culture. Though monuments were rarely “referred” to, there were debates on the ways of removing them in the movies. One such debate was provoked by the removal of a statue of Alexander III shown in Eisenstein’s »October« that didn’t actually take place during the October Revolution. But the discussion on its removal was so heated that Mayakovski proposed simply blowing it up. In the case of Croatia, such modern or left-wing methods were paradoxically employed by right-wing »activists«, who thus unwittingly paid a tribute to the phenomenon of the socialist production of icons.

Iconoclastic revenge is usually taken against the dominant symbol, the »Name of the Father«, and is progressive from a historical point of view, as Mitchell has noted . But when it comes too late and refers to no one in particular, it is a useless act. For, if the »father figure« is unknown and undefined, there is nothing to revolt against. The unknown hero and the hero in general always make saboteurs simply »bastards«. They are fighting ghosts.

[b]Blowing up, toppling, decapitation[/b]

Still, the strategy of blowing monuments up was seen as left-wing not because it was so in a political sense, but because it was the way an invisible society of workers made itself spectacularly visible. Obligatory classes of self-defence in secondary schools, which were more like terrorism lessons for children, taught a type of knowledge similar to the interventionist discourse of anarchism and the radical left in the West, for example Johann Most (end of 19th century) or William Powell (»The Anarchist Cookbook«, 1960s). But they were legal, a part of historical methodology. Instead of demolishing the sculpture of Tito, bombers have simply reminded everyone of what they already know..

When the government decided to put the restored monument back in place, Martinis took revenge on copies. Cutting heads off replicas of the monument not only repeated the iconoclasm of bombers where the sculpture only lost a head, but established Martinis himself on the empty pedestal of the symbol as Tito himself – who, according to implausible accounts of his life, was at first a metalworker.

The strategy of replacing heads of statues with different ones, practised since Roman times, was more colonial in meaning. For this method has been used on a large scale in another medium – photography. Stalin’s partial interventions in historical photographs used iconoclasm in a constructive rather than destructive way, to build new meanings.

Martinis’ performances actually refer to photography and film both in content and form. All we have is a photography of the first performance, and all that happens is a ritual decapitation – but the symbol lives on. So what is meant to be subverted here if the sculpture cannot be punished?

[b]Subversive museums and theme parks[/b]

The pedestal that Martinis climbs on to is not an artistic reference point, like the empty pedestals of Lawler and McCollum . A museum and the birthplace of the »ex-father« are not the same, although both are »memorial« institutions.

A empty pedestal in a public place is a sign of a past time. Paul Claudel has noted how Mallarmé’s Paris was »suddenly peopled with pedestals dedicated to absence«, and for this reason Iamposkii has seen pedestals as a sign of stable times During Tito’s life, the pedestal was also a point of reference for the »everyday pioneers« who participated in the grand spectacles for Tito’s birthdays (»slet« - large-scale festivals, often in stadiums, where songs and dances were performed in honour of Tito; or »_tafeta« - relay races through all the republics, using burning torches instead of batons; the last torch was given to Tito personally on his birthday). Once arrived at the pedestal, Martinis fulfills his old obligation to stand up and defend the place. He comes there to stabilize.

But it is not that Martinis makes a political decision, even though he takes the place of Tito (or, to be more precise, of his copy) or behaves as a metalworker. He is actually entering an impossible exchange with a place where icons of popular culture are in play that are referred to by art, but are can no longer be successfully decoded by politics. In this place, iconoclasm and iconophilia lose their meaning, as they refer to particular motifs, but do not manage to decipher the icon and the symbol.

Empty Pedestals

On Dalibor Martinis\' performances of climbing onto the empty pedestal of Tito and becoming a metalworker – like Tito

Ana Peraica

Icons as symbols

Since the ZKM symposium Iconoclash , it has become quite popular to deal with the theme of iconoclasm. Still, two of Dalibor Martinis’ performances, which focus on the blown-up monument of Tito, are rather plugged into an unarticulated political and cultural dialogue and thus the inherent dilemma of popular culture, politics and art. They therefore become topological, but also question the content of the icon.

It was not often in ex-Yugoslavia - as was in the case in “festivals of iconoclasm” (Strabinsky) in other socialist countries, especially in Russia - that monuments were removed. Tito separated from the Soviet Bloc as early as 1948, so Socialist Realism did not dominate production longer than 1951. Still, in this short space of time and even later on - outside the context of art - a number of monuments was built, mainly representing Tito and the specific theme of »unknown heroes.« Both of these themes are topological rather than topical, as the unknown hero represented no one in particular, and Tito has also become a similar symbol .

Monuments on both of these themes were presented in public places in such large numbers of copies that they lost any connection to what they were signifying. Perhaps the most interesting was Augustin_i_’s (1948) monument depicting Tito in a heavy coat. This monument was blown up during the night of 26/27 December 2004 at its »original« site, Tito’s birthplace Kumrovec, which has become as sort of theme-park.

Judging by the way the deed was announced, it would seem that the intention here was not to destroy the icon or the symbol - as both seem to be indestructible and are re-emerging in movie culture – but to conquer a symbolic place, the birthplace that today is the only physical reference to the person named Tito . At a time when movie culture refers to his eternal comeback, iconoclasts attacking a sculpture seem pretty old-fashioned, even though they themselves may have unconsciously been influenced by these films .

Iconoclastic revenge on »the name of the father«

Contrary to demolitions of sculptures that took a much longer time – for example, the taking down of the Berlin Wall (1989) – in this case a monument was blown up. Blowing things up, always an honorable task in partisan iconography, is a topic that has been dealt with through a number of heroic characters in the post-WW2 movie culture . Though monuments were rarely “referred” to, there were debates on the ways of removing them in the movies. One such debate was provoked by the removal of a statue of Alexander III shown in Eisenstein’s »October« that didn’t actually take place during the October Revolution. But the discussion on its removal was so heated that Mayakovski proposed simply blowing it up . In the case of Croatia, such modern or left-wing methods were paradoxically employed by right-wing »activists«, who thus unwittingly paid a tribute to the phenomenon of the socialist production of icons.

Iconoclastic revenge is usually taken against the dominant symbol, the »Name of the Father«, and is progressive from a historical point of view, as Mitchell has noted . But when it comes too late and refers to no one in particular, it is a useless act. For, if the »father figure« is unknown and undefined, there is nothing to revolt against. The unknown hero and the hero in general always make saboteurs simply »bastards«. They are fighting ghosts.

Blowing up, toppling, decapitation

Still, the strategy of blowing monuments up was seen as left-wing not because it was so in a political sense, but because it was the way an invisible society of workers made itself spectacularly visible. Obligatory classes of self-defence in secondary schools, which were more like terrorism lessons for children, taught a type of knowledge similar to the interventionist discourse of anarchism and the radical left in the West, for example Johann Most (end of 19th century) or William Powell (»The Anarchist Cookbook«, 1960s). But they were legal, a part of historical methodology. Instead of demolishing the sculpture of Tito, bombers have simply reminded everyone of what they already know..

When the government decided to put the restored monument back in place, Martinis took revenge on copies. Cutting heads off replicas of the monument not only repeated the iconoclasm of bombers where the sculpture only lost a head, but established Martinis himself on the empty pedestal of the symbol as Tito himself – who, according to implausible accounts of his life, was at first a metalworker.

The strategy of replacing heads of statues with different ones, practised since Roman times, was more colonial in meaning. For this method has been used on a large scale in another medium – photography. Stalin’s partial interventions in historical photographs used iconoclasm in a constructive rather than destructive way, to build new meanings .

Martinis’ performances actually refer to photography and film both in content and form. All we have is a photography of the first performance, and all that happens is a ritual decapitation – but the symbol lives on. So what is meant to be subverted here if the sculpture cannot be punished?

Subversive museums and theme parks

The pedestal that Martinis climbs on to is not an artistic reference point, like the empty pedestals of Lawler and McCollum . A museum and the birthplace of the »ex-father« are not the same, although both are »memorial« institutions.

A empty pedestal in a public place is a sign of a past time. Paul Claudel has noted how Mallarmé’s Paris was »suddenly peopled with pedestals dedicated to absence«, and for this reason Iamposkii has seen pedestals as a sign of stable times During Tito’s life, the pedestal was also a point of reference for the »everyday pioneers« who participated in the grand spectacles for Tito’s birthdays (»slet« - large-scale festivals, often in stadiums, where songs and dances were performed in honour of Tito; or »_tafeta« - relay races through all the republics, using burning torches instead of batons; the last torch was given to Tito personally on his birthday). Once arrived at the pedestal, Martinis fulfills his old obligation to stand up and defend the place. He comes there to stabilize.

But it is not that Martinis makes a political decision, even though he takes the place of Tito (or, to be more precise, of his copy) or behaves as a metalworker. He is actually entering an impossible exchange with a place where icons of popular culture are in play that are referred to by art, but are can no longer be successfully decoded by politics. In this place, iconoclasm and iconophilia lose their meaning, as they refer to particular motifs, but do not manage to decipher the icon and the symbol .

Empty Pedestals

On Dalibor Martinis\' performances of climbing onto the empty pedestal of Tito and becoming a metalworker – like Tito

Ana Peraica

Icons as symbols

Since the ZKM symposium Iconoclash , it has become quite popular to deal with the theme of iconoclasm. Still, two of Dalibor Martinis’ performances, which focus on the blown-up monument of Tito, are rather plugged into an unarticulated political and cultural dialogue and thus the inherent dilemma of popular culture, politics and art. They therefore become topological, but also question the content of the icon.

It was not often in ex-Yugoslavia - as was in the case in “festivals of iconoclasm” (Strabinsky) in other socialist countries, especially in Russia - that monuments were removed. Tito separated from the Soviet Bloc as early as 1948, so Socialist Realism did not dominate production longer than 1951. Still, in this short space of time and even later on - outside the context of art - a number of monuments was built, mainly representing Tito and the specific theme of »unknown heroes.« Both of these themes are topological rather than topical, as the unknown hero represented no one in particular, and Tito has also become a similar symbol .

Monuments on both of these themes were presented in public places in such large numbers of copies that they lost any connection to what they were signifying. Perhaps the most interesting was Augustin_i_’s (1948) monument depicting Tito in a heavy coat. This monument was blown up during the night of 26/27 December 2004 at its »original« site, Tito’s birthplace Kumrovec, which has become as sort of theme-park.

Judging by the way the deed was announced, it would seem that the intention here was not to destroy the icon or the symbol - as both seem to be indestructible and are re-emerging in movie culture – but to conquer a symbolic place, the birthplace that today is the only physical reference to the person named Tito . At a time when movie culture refers to his eternal comeback, iconoclasts attacking a sculpture seem pretty old-fashioned, even though they themselves may have unconsciously been influenced by these films .

Iconoclastic revenge on »the name of the father«

Contrary to demolitions of sculptures that took a much longer time – for example, the taking down of the Berlin Wall (1989) – in this case a monument was blown up. Blowing things up, always an honorable task in partisan iconography, is a topic that has been dealt with through a number of heroic characters in the post-WW2 movie culture . Though monuments were rarely “referred” to, there were debates on the ways of removing them in the movies. One such debate was provoked by the removal of a statue of Alexander III shown in Eisenstein’s »October« that didn’t actually take place during the October Revolution. But the discussion on its removal was so heated that Mayakovski proposed simply blowing it up . In the case of Croatia, such modern or left-wing methods were paradoxically employed by right-wing »activists«, who thus unwittingly paid a tribute to the phenomenon of the socialist production of icons.

Iconoclastic revenge is usually taken against the dominant symbol, the »Name of the Father«, and is progressive from a historical point of view, as Mitchell has noted . But when it comes too late and refers to no one in particular, it is a useless act. For, if the »father figure« is unknown and undefined, there is nothing to revolt against. The unknown hero and the hero in general always make saboteurs simply »bastards«. They are fighting ghosts.

Blowing up, toppling, decapitation

Still, the strategy of blowing monuments up was seen as left-wing not because it was so in a political sense, but because it was the way an invisible society of workers made itself spectacularly visible. Obligatory classes of self-defence in secondary schools, which were more like terrorism lessons for children, taught a type of knowledge similar to the interventionist discourse of anarchism and the radical left in the West, for example Johann Most (end of 19th century) or William Powell (»The Anarchist Cookbook«, 1960s). But they were legal, a part of historical methodology. Instead of demolishing the sculpture of Tito, bombers have simply reminded everyone of what they already know..

When the government decided to put the restored monument back in place, Martinis took revenge on copies. Cutting heads off replicas of the monument not only repeated the iconoclasm of bombers where the sculpture only lost a head, but established Martinis himself on the empty pedestal of the symbol as Tito himself – who, according to implausible accounts of his life, was at first a metalworker.

The strategy of replacing heads of statues with different ones, practised since Roman times, was more colonial in meaning. For this method has been used on a large scale in another medium – photography. Stalin’s partial interventions in historical photographs used iconoclasm in a constructive rather than destructive way, to build new meanings .

Martinis’ performances actually refer to photography and film both in content and form. All we have is a photography of the first performance, and all that happens is a ritual decapitation – but the symbol lives on. So what is meant to be subverted here if the sculpture cannot be punished?

Subversive museums and theme parks

The pedestal that Martinis climbs on to is not an artistic reference point, like the empty pedestals of Lawler and McCollum . A museum and the birthplace of the »ex-father« are not the same, although both are »memorial« institutions.

A empty pedestal in a public place is a sign of a past time. Paul Claudel has noted how Mallarmé’s Paris was »suddenly peopled with pedestals dedicated to absence«, and for this reason Iamposkii has seen pedestals as a sign of stable times During Tito’s life, the pedestal was also a point of reference for the »everyday pioneers« who participated in the grand spectacles for Tito’s birthdays (»slet« - large-scale festivals, often in stadiums, where songs and dances were performed in honour of Tito; or »_tafeta« - relay races through all the republics, using burning torches instead of batons; the last torch was given to Tito personally on his birthday). Once arrived at the pedestal, Martinis fulfills his old obligation to stand up and defend the place. He comes there to stabilize.

But it is not that Martinis makes a political decision, even though he takes the place of Tito (or, to be more precise, of his copy) or behaves as a metalworker. He is actually entering an impossible exchange with a place where icons of popular culture are in play that are referred to by art, but are can no longer be successfully decoded by politics. In this place, iconoclasm and iconophilia lose their meaning, as they refer to particular motifs, but do not manage to decipher the icon and the symbol .

Empty Pedestals

On Dalibor Martinis\' performances of climbing onto the empty pedestal of Tito and becoming a metalworker – like Tito

Ana Peraica

Icons as symbols

Since the ZKM symposium Iconoclash , it has become quite popular to deal with the theme of iconoclasm. Still, two of Dalibor Martinis’ performances, which focus on the blown-up monument of Tito, are rather plugged into an unarticulated political and cultural dialogue and thus the inherent dilemma of popular culture, politics and art. They therefore become topological, but also question the content of the icon.

It was not often in ex-Yugoslavia - as was in the case in “festivals of iconoclasm” (Strabinsky) in other socialist countries, especially in Russia - that monuments were removed. Tito separated from the Soviet Bloc as early as 1948, so Socialist Realism did not dominate production longer than 1951. Still, in this short space of time and even later on - outside the context of art - a number of monuments was built, mainly representing Tito and the specific theme of »unknown heroes.« Both of these themes are topological rather than topical, as the unknown hero represented no one in particular, and Tito has also become a similar symbol .

Monuments on both of these themes were presented in public places in such large numbers of copies that they lost any connection to what they were signifying. Perhaps the most interesting was Augustin_i_’s (1948) monument depicting Tito in a heavy coat. This monument was blown up during the night of 26/27 December 2004 at its »original« site, Tito’s birthplace Kumrovec, which has become as sort of theme-park.

Judging by the way the deed was announced, it would seem that the intention here was not to destroy the icon or the symbol - as both seem to be indestructible and are re-emerging in movie culture – but to conquer a symbolic place, the birthplace that today is the only physical reference to the person named Tito . At a time when movie culture refers to his eternal comeback, iconoclasts attacking a sculpture seem pretty old-fashioned, even though they themselves may have unconsciously been influenced by these films .

Iconoclastic revenge on »the name of the father«

Contrary to demolitions of sculptures that took a much longer time – for example, the taking down of the Berlin Wall (1989) – in this case a monument was blown up. Blowing things up, always an honorable task in partisan iconography, is a topic that has been dealt with through a number of heroic characters in the post-WW2 movie culture . Though monuments were rarely “referred” to, there were debates on the ways of removing them in the movies. One such debate was provoked by the removal of a statue of Alexander III shown in Eisenstein’s »October« that didn’t actually take place during the October Revolution. But the discussion on its removal was so heated that Mayakovski proposed simply blowing it up . In the case of Croatia, such modern or left-wing methods were paradoxically employed by right-wing »activists«, who thus unwittingly paid a tribute to the phenomenon of the socialist production of icons.

Iconoclastic revenge is usually taken against the dominant symbol, the »Name of the Father«, and is progressive from a historical point of view, as Mitchell has noted . But when it comes too late and refers to no one in particular, it is a useless act. For, if the »father figure« is unknown and undefined, there is nothing to revolt against. The unknown hero and the hero in general always make saboteurs simply »bastards«. They are fighting ghosts.

Blowing up, toppling, decapitation

Still, the strategy of blowing monuments up was seen as left-wing not because it was so in a political sense, but because it was the way an invisible society of workers made itself spectacularly visible. Obligatory classes of self-defence in secondary schools, which were more like terrorism lessons for children, taught a type of knowledge similar to the interventionist discourse of anarchism and the radical left in the West, for example Johann Most (end of 19th century) or William Powell (»The Anarchist Cookbook«, 1960s). But they were legal, a part of historical methodology. Instead of demolishing the sculpture of Tito, bombers have simply reminded everyone of what they already know..

When the government decided to put the restored monument back in place, Martinis took revenge on copies. Cutting heads off replicas of the monument not only repeated the iconoclasm of bombers where the sculpture only lost a head, but established Martinis himself on the empty pedestal of the symbol as Tito himself – who, according to implausible accounts of his life, was at first a metalworker.

The strategy of replacing heads of statues with different ones, practised since Roman times, was more colonial in meaning. For this method has been used on a large scale in another medium – photography. Stalin’s partial interventions in historical photographs used iconoclasm in a constructive rather than destructive way, to build new meanings .

Martinis’ performances actually refer to photography and film both in content and form. All we have is a photography of the first performance, and all that happens is a ritual decapitation – but the symbol lives on. So what is meant to be subverted here if the sculpture cannot be punished?

Subversive museums and theme parks

The pedestal that Martinis climbs on to is not an artistic reference point, like the empty pedestals of Lawler and McCollum . A museum and the birthplace of the »ex-father« are not the same, although both are »memorial« institutions.

A empty pedestal in a public place is a sign of a past time. Paul Claudel has noted how Mallarmé’s Paris was »suddenly peopled with pedestals dedicated to absence«, and for this reason Iamposkii has seen pedestals as a sign of stable times During Tito’s life, the pedestal was also a point of reference for the »everyday pioneers« who participated in the grand spectacles for Tito’s birthdays (»slet« - large-scale festivals, often in stadiums, where songs and dances were performed in honour of Tito; or »_tafeta« - relay races through all the republics, using burning torches instead of batons; the last torch was given to Tito personally on his birthday). Once arrived at the pedestal, Martinis fulfills his old obligation to stand up and defend the place. He comes there to stabilize.

But it is not that Martinis makes a political decision, even though he takes the place of Tito (or, to be more precise, of his copy) or behaves as a metalworker. He is actually entering an impossible exchange with a place where icons of popular culture are in play that are referred to by art, but are can no longer be successfully decoded by politics. In this place, iconoclasm and iconophilia lose their meaning, as they refer to particular motifs, but do not manage to decipher the icon and the symbol .

Icons as symbols

Since the ZKM symposium Iconoclash , it has become quite popular to deal with the theme of iconoclasm. Still, two of Dalibor Martinis’ performances, which focus on the blown-up monument of Tito, are rather plugged into an unarticulated political and cultural dialogue and thus the inherent dilemma of popular culture, politics and art. They therefore become topological, but also question the content of the icon.

It was not often in ex-Yugoslavia - as was in the case in “festivals of iconoclasm” (Strabinsky) in other socialist countries, especially in Russia - that monuments were removed. Tito separated from the Soviet Bloc as early as 1948, so Socialist Realism did not dominate production longer than 1951. Still, in this short space of time and even later on - outside the context of art - a number of monuments was built, mainly representing Tito and the specific theme of »unknown heroes.« Both of these themes are topological rather than topical, as the unknown hero represented no one in particular, and Tito has also become a similar symbol .

Monuments on both of these themes were presented in public places in such large numbers of copies that they lost any connection to what they were signifying. Perhaps the most interesting was Augustin_i_’s (1948) monument depicting Tito in a heavy coat. This monument was blown up during the night of 26/27 December 2004 at its »original« site, Tito’s birthplace Kumrovec, which has become as sort of theme-park.

Judging by the way the deed was announced, it would seem that the intention here was not to destroy the icon or the symbol - as both seem to be indestructible and are re-emerging in movie culture – but to conquer a symbolic place, the birthplace that today is the only physical reference to the person named Tito . At a time when movie culture refers to his eternal comeback, iconoclasts attacking a sculpture seem pretty old-fashioned, even though they themselves may have unconsciously been influenced by these films .

[b]Iconoclastic revenge on »the name of the father«

Contrary to demolitions of sculptures that took a much longer time – for example, the taking down of the Berlin Wall (1989) – in this case a monument was blown up. Blowing things up, always an honorable task in partisan iconography, is a topic that has been dealt with through a number of heroic characters in the post-WW2 movie culture . Though monuments were rarely “referred” to, there were debates on the ways of removing them in the movies. One such debate was provoked by the removal of a statue of Alexander III shown in Eisenstein’s »October« that didn’t actually take place during the October Revolution. But the discussion on its removal was so heated that Mayakovski proposed simply blowing it up . In the case of Croatia, such modern or left-wing methods were paradoxically employed by right-wing »activists«, who thus unwittingly paid a tribute to the phenomenon of the socialist production of icons.

Iconoclastic revenge is usually taken against the dominant symbol, the »Name of the Father«, and is progressive from a historical point of view, as Mitchell has noted . But when it comes too late and refers to no one in particular, it is a useless act. For, if the »father figure« is unknown and undefined, there is nothing to revolt against. The unknown hero and the hero in general always make saboteurs simply »bastards«. They are fighting ghosts.

 

Translated by Timothy Jones