ARTISTS TALKING

The NAN networking weekend proved to be a very interesting and stimulating exchange. Set up on the premise that Cardiff and Bristol artists rarely interact and that there is little arts activity that spans the Severn, the event certainly raised many questions. Various talks and activities explored the historical contexts of this sense of separation, dating back to medieval times with Michael Manson’s presentation, and compared to other cities that are close geographically, but appear planets apart, such as Manchester and Liverpool. When you think about it, in the UK alone, this seems to happen all the time: cities that are neighbours (and could be expected to experience localised migration) seem to stay in their corners, not spoiling for a fight, but looking warily over the fence at what next door is up to. Bristol-Bath, Glasgow-Edinburgh, Birmingham-Coventry, the list goes on. Some of these pairings also possess yet another step of cultural collision – they are in ‘other countries’.

This idea of otherness seems to be a strangely prevalent issue. As cheap flights abound, as artists travel further afield to other continents to show work and experience residencies, one might begin to believe that the world of the twenty-first century has opened up like a flower and we as artists can crawl freely all over it for very little money. This is, to a degree, true, but another thing seems to be happening locally – native flowers are being cherished and hybrids considered second-rate. Authenticity is all, and there is a raised awareness of cultural identity. Prior to industrialisation, extended families lived close to each other, supported each other and shared responsibility for businesses and child rearing. Since industrialisation took hold of Europe and families dispersed geographically to pin down a job, people have left their hometowns and merged into other regions.

But things changed, as things do, and heavy industry finally collapsed and made way for commerce, technology and globalisation. With such an increase in technological innovation and massive changes in communication, moving around has became cheaper, working anywhere is possible and geographical boundaries are losing their relevance. Those families who had already scattered before and after the war are now floating without umbilici, tethered only by their computer cables and mobile phone re-chargers. And of course what happens to society in general also happens to artists, however much they resist. No one has the benefit of permanent employment or a job for life, so this need to be able to cut-free quickly is important for survival. We are all nomads now.

I don’t mean to portray this as a ‘bad thing’, but am attempting to put the situation of the artist into a wider sociological context. In many ways, this is all fantastic for artists – they are no longer duty-bound by family commitments to work locally, they hopefully no longer suffer from racial prejudice, and the open market allows them to travel fairly freely, give or take a visa or two. You could say we are becoming highly networked.

Strangely, there seems to be a backlash happening at home, and probably in other cultures too. Whilst half of us are out there fighting for freedom of movement and a society without borders, there are as many at home waving their heritage banners and fighting to hold on to tradition and cultural identity. They want their independence, they want to proudly wave their country’s flag at the Olympics, at rugby matches etc. And at biennales too. The Welsh want to encourage a celebration of Welshness, the Scots of all things Scottish. The newest addition to the political ball game is UKIP – a party promoting independence for the UK. Meanwhile we have hunt supporters waving their Union Jacks and promoting all things British. What is going on?

Back to the art world, which is clearly suffering from a similar cultural identity crisis. Consider the Liverpool Biennale and the works displayed at the Tate Liverpool in the International Selection. It is hard to believe that those artists were selected purely on merit to represent their countries. It seems more likely that it was a case of selecting the artists from the biennale shopping trolley (maybe there’s a discount website I don’t know about?) Cultural difference has therefore become a reason for selecting work, regardless of the quality of the work itself.

Interestingly, in this world of socio-political awareness we are encouraged not to point at otherness, not to suggest something might be exotic. We should accept all things and all people as the same, which is an excellent attitude that shouldn’t even require pointing out. But, in contradiction to that, we are also encouraged to celebrate cultural difference. Decibel, the Arts Council initiative supporting Black and Asian artists was a pioneering approach which attempted to level the playing field. But was it actually effective in doing so? Wales has its own Art Council, as do Scotland and England. Education systems are different and, it seems, the Scottish university system is much admired south of the borders in terms of art – as was Wales, in terms of the MA Fine Art course at Cardiff. Which is what I had intended to write about'

Quo Vadis – the coming together of artists from Cardiff, Bristol and beyond. Out of approximately twelve of the Bristol artist-delegates, I counted at least six ‘English’ artists who had done their MA at UWIC and another five of the hosting ‘Welsh’ artists associated with g39 in Cardiff. The liveliness of the art scene, particularly relating to g39, is very much due to those Cardiff MA students that stayed in Cardiff. Yet few of them are actually Welsh by birth. I recall when signing up for the MA that it was an entry requirement that students be willing to respect Welsh identity. Many exhibitions in the region insist that submissions are open to Welsh artists and those that studied in Wales. I don’t know of any exhibitions in England that adhere to such a cultural rule. Occasionally, you do get commissions in specific regions, but those are usually defined by the Arts Council England or local government boundaries. So when is a Welsh artist not a Welsh artist? When they are English but have studied in Wales.

Mella Jarma, a Dutch artist living in Java and married to an Indonesian, suffers from this confusion of her cultural roots. If she applies for commissions as an Indonesian artist her hosts are often shocked by her Western European appearance. Yet she can’t apply for commissions as a Dutch artist, as she is a long-term resident of South Asia and has a Javanese surname.

This text keeps slipping around, in and out of different issues. Racial identity, cultural identity, patriotism, hybridity, authenticity. All these things are of people and places. And I haven’t even touched on religious difference. Might this reflect a period of regression – are we returning to Victorian times, when people were categorised according to their appearances and social differences were held appropriately apart by manners and class? The present-day defenders of foxhunting claim they are being victimised: “It is a myth, sedulously promoted by the apologists for hunting, that this is a vicious assault on the liberties of country folk by ignorant townie class-warriors headquartered in Islington.”¹

Nature-culture, ruling class-working class, the classic dichotomies. Who really cares whether you are an English artist or a Welsh one, beyond the selection panels for funding and biennales. As artists we are frequently asked to respond to a ‘place’, but how can we, other than as outsiders? What qualifies us to become ‘insiders’? A month-long residency, a year maybe? Alain de Botton, in his book The Art of Travel, proposes that “it seems we may be best able to inhabit a place when we are not faced with the additional challenge of having to be there”.²

Does that suggest that prior knowledge of a place is sufficient to satiate the desire to travel? De Botton implies that the experience of going somewhere is always flawed by the fact that you cannot leave yourself behind. If this is interpreted as place being a site for the self, then surely it doesn’t matter at all whether you are in England, Wales or Outer Mongolia? However, if we don’t go to other places, don’t meet other people from other cultures, how can we ever dispose of cultural stereotypes?

The image shown is of a postcard made and distributed by artist Lyra Abueg Garellano and openly challenges racial stereotyping. The text on the reverse lists a range of statements about herself, many of them responding to racial stereotypes:

“I am Filipino born, raised and living in the Philippines
I am not backward, barbaric or warlike
I don’t wash my clothes in a river
I do not eat dogs
In fact I do not eat meat
[']
Finally,
My country may be economically poor but I don’t like being called provincial, or referred to as an exotic being from the islands and a third world citizen.
And, I suppose, neither do you.”³

I don’t have any answers to these questions and I suspect that no one does. But weekends like Quo Vadis provide a stimulating platform on which to raise these issues and to continue to question things. And I didn’t have to travel far either.

Carolyn Black, artistwriterprojectmanager
www.hybrideyes.com

¹ Andrew Rawnsley, The Observer, Sunday November 21, 2004.
² Alain de Botton, The art of travel, page 23. Published by Penguin
³ Lyra Abueg Garcellano, A Filipino Girl (full text):

I am Filipino, born, raised and living in the Philippines.
I am not backward, barbaric or warlike.
My house is not open to all.
I don’t readily open my door to strangers.
I am not always hospitable.
I am kind and respectful and I expect the same treatment form others.
I am not rich.
I work hard to earn a living. It is my right to be paid my dues.
Doing domestic chores, manual labor, and working as a babysitter
In a foreign land aren’t the only things I am cut out to do.
Whenever/ If ever I save money I like to travel, to see the world and learn about new cultures.
I didn’t apply for and get my visa to the United States with the intention of going there to land me an American citizen.
I have no intention of being an illegal alien in the US.
I like to travel, that’s it.
I don’t wash my clothes in the river.
Neither do I live in a tree.
I am not Catholic. I am not Protestant, Born Again, Opus Dei, El Shaddai or Muslim.
I do not belong to an organized religion.
I firmly believe in religious freedom and tolerance. I am not evil.
I do not eat dogs.
In fact, I do not eat meat.
I am vegetarian because I don’t have a taste for killing.
I am not adept at handling a balisong or inclined to dance the tinikling and I don’t have a penchant for singing.
I don’t know everything but I am not ignorant, naïve or uninformed.
I read books. I study. I analyze issues.
I am not pliant, meek or docile.
Finally,
My country may be economically poor but I don’t like being
Called provincial, or referred to as an exotic being from the
islands and a third world citizen.

And, I suppose, neither do you.

This article is part of a specially commissioned set of writing resulting from Quo Vadis, a NAN event devised by Chris Brown and Louise Short that took place in Cardiff and Bristol, 27-28 November 2004.

NAN facilitates exchange, dialogue, and collaboration amongst visual artists, whatever their practice and location. It offers a focus for critical exchange and feedback and through research and mapping seeks to develop greater awareness of the value of artists' initiatives and of their changing professional needs. For more information about NAN go to Networking networks or contact emilia.telese@a-n.co.uk