If the fundamental issue around which our thinking revolves is whether or not art may be used – today and in the circumstances that actually exist – to do active political work and trigger positive social change for justice, equality, and a better life for all, then in the present essay this question will be limited to a discussion of the contemporary art curator as currently being one of the key enactors of this trend in art, which we may call the »leftist politicization of art«, and as the one who most persistently generates the discourse that presents such views and efforts as realistic, useful, and reasonable, as, indeed, an effective option for bettering contemporary society and the relationships within it. This includes even the »most radical« viewpoints, in which the curator, along with certain other figures in contemporary culture, goes so far as to present art as virtually the last remaining field not completely subject to the logic of global capitalism, so that there still exists in art, as nowhere else, real possibilities for experimentation, the activation of society, and political action. Thus – despite the fact that in the twentieth century such »functionalist« understandings of art regularly underwent all kinds of sobering lessons – today we might well say that this is the dominant trend of the past decade at the institutional level, and on a global scale, etc., inasmuch as it is supported by the most prominent representatives of the curatorial profession, which in today’s circumstances means also the contemporary art scene and the most visible art events, including the last two documenta exhibitions. Although we can observe, among curators’ individual views and discourses, many differences, variations, degrees of commitment and radicalism, etc., what unites them is the clear presupposition that art can play a definite positive role in relation to contemporary society: that it is an effective means for reducing social differences and inequalities, achieving justice in the world, and mediating on behalf of the weak and the marginalized, and, especially, that by increasing awareness and understanding and by reducing ignorance, it is an effective medium for raising social consciousness. Such thinking seems, in essence, a kind of derivation from the old leftist idea of the subversive function of an art that makes visible the contradictions and conflicts of society and in so doing pushes things in a positive direction and contributes to the resolution of the problems. Nowadays, even art criticism often evaluates curators and exhibitions in this light; for instance, Okwui Enwezor, who curated the most recent documenta, received much praise for the way he so precisely delineated and displayed the geography and content of the world’s political, social, and economic problems in the exhibition – which is the sort of compliment that today, for an art show, is accepted as being entirely to the point.

This trend may indeed be seen on all levels of the curator’s public discourse. In addition to exhibitions, which in one way or another tend to be reflections on the acute political and social issues of the day, the curator’s politicized writings, statements in interviews, and discussions at symposia vary from »old-fashioned« revolutionary zeal to mournful concern, commentaries, and suggestions for improving modern life on all sorts of levels and all over the planet. In all of this, he presents himself as being motivated solely by the desire to see a better common future, to bring about change for the good of all, etc. – in short, by his own personal and independent commitment to some noble political conviction. And although he is, as a rule, preaching exclusively to the choir (for instance, in catalogue texts intended for a like-minded art public) or demanding an increase in funding or some other enhancement of his work’s potential, his discourse is often structured as the discourse of an offended and marginalized opposition on the edge of existence. It would seem that he is permanently engaged in a fateful and unequal battle with conservative forces and the capitalist system and his defeat would lead directly and speedily to the collapse of human rights – despite the fact that in their most immediate short-term effects, his words, as a rule, do little more than win him merit points and success in the art field (where today a curator achieves maximum success precisely through the blatant politicization of his practice).

Discourses that might actually try to refute the curator and engage him in serious debate – ranging, for example, from conservatives and the far right, on the one hand, to those who would insist, on the other, that it is high time for critical art to transform itself from its now-traditional status as an eternally potential left into a left that operates in real and concrete ways – such discourses are currently few and far between. Those that do emerge by and large perish quickly, which is a logical consequence of the fact that nobody »cultivates« them and that they do not have a financially healthy platform that supports them the way the visual arts infrastructure and the broader cultural infrastructure do for the first option. Indeed, it is this striking aspect of »leftist« discourse – namely, the fact that, in most cases, those who so kindly cultivate it financially (and do so in accord with their own interests and political ambitions) are the rich and powerful of society, that is, they belong to the very opposite social stratum, and their support is realized in places and institutions whose deepest obligation, in addition to their obvious public functions, is precisely to protect the interests of this social stratum – that compels us to persistently and constantly examine of why and in whose interest this »leftist conviction in art« occurs, what its long-range effects are, whom it really benefits, etc., even if we would prefer to accept the discourse of curators as »plain and simple fact« and, especially, if we would like even more to be able to ascribe to art, without reservation, the potential for at least positive, if not entirely revolutionary, political change. In other words, not only is it strange, it is a complete paradox that leftist ideas, which have everywhere been »banished« from actual political life, have found a comfortable home and safe haven not merely in high art, but in the art system itself, which is a direct satellite of the world of the rich and powerful and which is declared, moreover, by practically everyone involved to be defective, corrupt, and biased in favor of the affluent West.

Here we find ourselves essentially before some of the most substantial and intractable criticisms that plague today’s art system and its representatives. But they are not our primary topic here, at least not in their »standard form«, as our focus is rather on a somewhat different question, namely: how seriously are curators themselves committed to their declared social and political project? By examining the curator’s own attitudes, as realized and displayed in the whole of his work – how he solves routine problems, how he advocates for his positions at various levels, etc. – and not only in the more public aspects of the finished product on view, we will try to reveal the curator’s actual relation to the message he so ardently proclaims in his discourse and in his exhibitions. Does he attempt to realize these ideas in his own life, in his daily professional practice, or are they merely beautiful notions designed to amuse the public, ideas he feel no obligation to uphold in his actual behavior? And if it is difficult to provide a single and satisfactory answer to this question, then let us attempt to clarify, at the very least, what he is more committed to: the realization of positive political change for the good of all, or »realizing« social events for the enjoyment of only the few?

Although many people insist that such qualms are inappropriate, childish, and even a disservice to art, and hardly worth addressing, it is irrefutable that, if art today is really the last refuge of leftist political action, if it truly can open people’s eyes and make them think critically, and if it carries the potential for effecting real change for the good of all, then art is also much too important a matter for us not to wonder who is in charge. Is it someone who is highly ethical and not beholden to others? Someone with sufficiently clear ideas who understands the consequences of what he does? Someone with enough of a command and knowledge of politics and social and ideological processes to know what is right? And should we, then, not also wonder why and how it is that we expect such qualities in people whose work is otherwise not in the least connected to social work or anything similar but who, on the contrary, apart from planning the content and artistic design of exhibitions, are mainly the producers and organizers of such art events for the sake of people who in every respect belong to the privileged classes of society. To put it another way, curators are in an explicitly non-autonomous position, since, in order to realize anything at all, they must from the start search outside of art for an interest that is compatible with their own interests; thus, their concepts must necessarily be amenable primarily to those who provide the funds and who manage institutions. It is they whom the curator must first convince that his project offers something beneficial for them, something they cannot get anywhere else for the same amount of money.

Given such complex motivations, why, then, should we necessarily and automatically ascribe their discourse solely to a commitment to ideals and political change? And if we are no longer particularly concerned by the fact that art transpires in such a framework (as we are probably used to it and it’s now the traditional way of doing things), then are we perhaps concerned if, in this same framework, what transpires is »the left«?

[b]Training upcoming generations[/b]
We can get some idea of just how serious the curatorial community is about its progressive political views from the way it educates its young, the kind of advice it gives them, and how it trains them to work in this demanding profession. Curatorial training is an especially suitable field for our inquiry, and not only because it is very young – even younger than curatorship, which is itself quite young – which means that the related discourse has not yet been entirely »smoothed out« to the point where no criticism could be made about curators’ professional conduct and contradictions would not be obvious to everyone. What makes it even more suitable is that in curatorial training, it would seem, the two key and contradictory vectors of the curator’s activity and existence necessarily meet: the practical part – which imposes negotiatory, bureaucratic, and entrepreneurial obligations on the curator and ties him to social groups one might think he would find odious, such as rich philanthropists, dealers and collectors, state bureaucrats, corporate PR people, and so on – and the artistic/manifestative part, which obliges him to present himself in a creative fashion, to produce beautiful content, and to change the world. Unavoidably, in training and education, the curatorial cub must learn both parts in order to survive, and from the way this dichotomy is presented in training programs we can decipher the curator’s stance toward it as well as his relationship to political responsibility, both of which will perhaps be more genuine than the revolutionary mottoes he proclaims on paper in catalogues.

Since curatorial schools are structures that lack a long tradition and that were founded and developed by curators themselves over the past ten years or so, they are also of interest because they, especially, could, and should, accord with the ideas curators are constantly promulgating. It is, accordingly, precisely in curatorial schools that we should find a vivid example of a new approach to art, the fostering of independent and more democratic practices, efforts to introduce alternative economies, and a turning away from the old system.

Let us direct our attention, then, first of all, to curatorial schools – all of which, in theory, place a high value on social commitment, critical analysis, etc. – and let us try to answer a few questions by analyzing these schools’ concrete operations. Do such programs really produce individuals who are capable of dealing with a politicized visual art and who are ready to play a critical and active social role, or are they, instead, bureaucrats, ready for compromise, who know how to organize events in line with the funding criteria presented by politics and capital? Are students taught to reflect on and try to resolve such tensions in the profession, or instead, to overlook them and even mask them? Are they taught to try to change an art system that has come under such intense criticism, or instead, to preserve it?

Considering the last question first, we can say that students are certainly not taught to change the system – we need only look at these schools’ mode of operation and already-obvious effects. They support the existing system in concrete ways by teaching the most conventional ways of working in this system – and not, for instance, some more politically correct alternative. So in this way they actually propagate it by training a work force that will then act in a uniform and universal manner all over the globe. I say »all over the globe« because one of the typical consequences of such training is that curators, return to their home environments after being educated in Western centers and »disseminate« the system everywhere to great effect, even in places where it did not previously exist or at least was not very well established. A young curator of this sort will, for the sake of his own status and other benefits, do all he can to make his local environment as compatible as possible with the Western system, since only such an environment will give him the opportunity to fulfill his careerist ambitions. (It seems clear, too, that such training in itself does much to confirm students in these ambitions – even their instructors, among others, have been dismayed at how students’ zeal for work is inordinately supported by a drive for career success.) It would, in essence, be hard to imagine, let alone implement, a more effective means for the »controlled« propagation of the existing system, especially since it is during their training that future curators fully »internalize« the established international hierarchy. As part of the learning process, students become acquainted with as many of the top players in the system as possible – as well as their enviable status and all the benefits that come with it – and they will do all they can to plan their own careers in precisely the same direction, to enter the orbit of the big-name curators and stay there.

Inasmuch as the logic of contacts and acquaintances – and of social maneuvering that leads to connections with people as far up in the art hierarchy as possible – is one of the most effective keys to success in this system, curatorial schools, despite preaching at the same time about overcoming entrenched injustices, love of equality and democracy, etc., do not even try to conceal their inclination to orient students toward these same patterns and behaviors; on the contrary, they flaunt their ability to assist students in establishing such »VIP« connections as one of the major benefits a student receives by attending their particular school. We can safely say that the »reputation« and success of such a school depends to a large degree on its actual ability to help students become part of the established network and enter the existing order of things. The stronger a school is in this respect, the more desirable it is. Take, for instance, the Curatorial Training Program at the De Appel Foundation, a school that has been very successful in bringing its students into the art network – which is probably why it is besieged by applicants from all over the world. Such profit, indeed, is promised at the very beginning of the school’s web page, where, despite the innocent wording, we are given something that sounds like a guarantee that the candidate will receive the greatest benefit from the programme precisely in the area of social maneuvering, meeting as many key figures as possible, building personal networks and acquaintances, etc. Of the programme’s most »vitally important« merits, the one listed first is »the opportunity to meet a large number of artists, curators, critics and other professionals from the Netherlands and abroad in a very condensed period of time [!], and having the chance to exchange ideas with them, often in a very informal way«. A few lines later, we are offered the following assurance: »The group automatically forms a network, which will continue to function after the programme has finished. Through meetings and excursions, the participants are also able to work on their personal network throughout the entire period of the course«.

In short, the school will, quite literally, show students what success looks like; it will present them with those who have »made it« – the successful people with whom they must network and collaborate, and whose favor they must win, if they themselves wish to achieve success.

[b]Mainstream philosophy and practice[/b]
It is clear that pointing students in such a direction must lead to conformism in general – and not merely to conformability to the system, its successful reproduction, and less of an inclination to change it – especially when this is linked to another problematic aspect we must draw attention to, namely, the weak and incoherent theoretical knowledge such schools provide. If today we know that in a field such as art, meaningful progress, the kind that does not constantly bend back and forth under external constraints (from the media, politics, marketing concerns, etc.), can as a rule only be realized by people who are rich in the specific capital and knowledge of this field, then it seems a contradiction that curatorial schools do not strive to provide their students with coherent theoretical knowledge and instead enthrone as the important curators people who are specialists in neither of the two possible areas of theoretical knowledge associated with such training: the knowledge of art and what we might call popular philosophy. At the same time it seems that not only is the knowledge provided in these two areas insufficient, but the areas themselves are losing out, since they take a distant second place to so-called practical skills (acquiring sponsorships, networking, bureaucratic work, organizing events – from security for the exhibition to the entire production of the catalogue, public relations, etc.), which as a rule inevitably turn the curator’s attention away from art to other fields, such as the media and the world of sponsorships, and prepare him, literally, to search constantly for ways to connect with these other fields. In other words, this training, in a very real sense, prepares students to submit themselves to external constraints and pressures.

The first observation we noted above is that working with art itself – that is, the detailed study and analysis of artworks and art concepts, art theory, art history, etc, through which the student would acquire a complex knowledge of this field – is not a priority in such programs. The programs are too short for this and, as we have said, their focus is usually far more practical than theoretical. To judge also by what some students in these programs have said, they themselves eventually, during the period of their training with its real, if perhaps unexpressed, emphases, came to realize that – even if these schools with all their fine rhetoric spoke of the importance of paying close attention to art and doing careful and precise field research – such things as networking and organizational and bureaucratic activities were unavoidable necessities in their work, while involvement with art itself and the content of art was an area in which they could cut corners. The third thing that leads us to conclude that art is not a real priority here is the fact that these curatorial schools and programs almost always accept as students people who come from a variety of educational backgrounds, and not only from the field of art history or fine arts. This suggests that the complex knowledge of art and art history that the curator requires to do his work is neither extensive nor difficult to acquire – and does this not also suggest, then, that the curator’s proficiencies lie elsewhere?

Since – apart from the study of art itself and instruction in the »practical mastering« of curatorial work – a segment of curatorial training is devoted to a wide range of currently popular theoretical discourses from the social sciences and philosophy, we can conclude that either such schools encourage curators to think about art in relation to political, ethical, social, and similar questions or they try to supply them with some sort of knowledge of »mainstream philosophy«. Given the amount and variety of these schools’ learning materials (which can vary from year to year), we are inclined to believe the latter. It seems unlikely that such »quick-course« schooling can really provide sufficient knowledge for any serious examination of problems pertaining to the topics it deals with but can provide only enough for students to learn the »correct« attitudes for their chosen profession and to get some ideas for their future exhibitions and projects. The question of proficiency, then, is doubled. If those with degrees in fields outside of art do not possess sufficient knowledge of art, then students with degrees in art-related fields will not become proficient thinkers and researchers in, say, multiculturalism simply as the result of some »crash course« on the subject. They will, of course, be able to attach a certain philosophy to similarly oriented art projects and to conceive large, politically focused, and politically correct iconographies, but they will not possess any deeper specialized knowledge of the issue – a knowledge that would also provide them with the requisite ability to reflect on the potential long-term consequences of such an enterprise. We should not be surprised, therefore, if the very events in which this »art expert« cum »world expert« (I don’t know any term broad enough for this) acts with the finest intentions as a cultural mediator, an advocate for marginalized identities, the catalyst of a healthy society, of democracy, and much else besides – we should not be surprised if these events help bring about a situation in which the most enthusiastic multiculturalism leads in fact to neo-colonialism and the Western liberal hegemony litters its offspring all over the world.

 

 

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