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Transcript of a. the athens contemporary art review 07
issu
e 6
- o
cto
ber
200
6
the
athe
ns c
onte
mpo
rary
art
revi
ew·.
Co
nte
nts 03 Editor’s Note
04 Drafts
07 The Discourse is the Medium
Yannis Stathatos writes about
the field of photographic arts
13 IPRN & Changing Faces
Arabella Plouviez describes IPRN and
the exhibition Changing Faces at the
American College of Athens
21 InterviewStavros Moresopoulos talks to Foteini Barka
29 The Realm of Modes
Thanos Stathopoulos returns in his participation
at the exhibition What Remains is Future
33 Dial Soul: Room Without a View
Christophorer Marinos writes
about Moris Ganis’ exhibition
37 Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching
Stella Sevastopoulou writes about
Mantalina Psoma’s exhibition
41 Visits
Katerina Nikou meets Em-Kei
03 Editor’s Note
04 Drafts
07 The Discourse is the Medium
Yannis Stathatos writes about
the field of photographic arts
13 IPRN & Changing Faces
Arabella Plouviez describes IPRN and
the exhibition Changing Faces at the
American College of Athens
21 InterviewStavros Moresopoulos talks to Foteini Barka
29 The Realm of Modes
Thanos Stathopoulos returns in his participation
at the exhibition What Remains is Future
33 Dial Soul: Room Without a View
Christophorer Marinos writes
about Moris Ganis’ exhibition
37 Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching
Stella Sevastopoulou writes about
Mantalina Psoma’s exhibition
41 Visits
Katerina Nikou meets Em-Kei
This issue has a special focus on photography. Among
other articles, it hosts a text by Arabella Plouviez,
Head of Photography at the University of
Sunderland, an essay by John Stathatos, organiser of
the Kythera Photographic Encounters, and an
interview with Stavros Moressopoulos, art director of
the Month of Photography in Athens.
It should be noted that this is not meant to be the
first issue of a series devoted to different media,
which will concentrate in turn on painting or video.
Still, we hope that this will be the last issue that is so
significantly delayed. The disruption of the
puplication cycle was due to essential restructuring.
The following issue will be double and due in mid
December.
Ed
ito
r’s
no
te
·.
04
Mise en abyme
“The whole question of nationality is
very topical”, the Finnish curator
and journalist Riitta Raatikainen
states as I try to sneak unobserved
at the back of the crammed-full
Raantasipi auditorium that hosts
Shifts, the 2nd IPRN conference in
Jyväskylä, Finland. On the big
screen, portraits, landscapes and
urban scenes selected from the
survey photography project OurLand appear as exemplars of
Finland’s “new national narration”.
The slide show is meticulously
orchestrated so as to give the
international delegates a concise
historical account of the country’s
ethno-cultural commonplace(s),
aiming to illustrate, we are told, “a
national narration for everyone”
through “one’s own life history,
memories and feelings”. I must
admit I only have a vague idea of
what this recurrent notion of
Finnishness might mean, but the
bleak stillness and laconism of
Finnish documentary photography
is quite familiar. Sitting there in the
dark, I recall Aki Kaourismaki’s
deadpan view of Finnish suburbia,
of Helsinki’s run-down shores and
the Tundra wasteland, which to me,
and I guess to other southern
Europeans, has a certain aura of
Northern exoticism, an intriguing
sense of otherness that matches the
bewilderment I felt at Helsinki
airport looking at the colourful tins
of Karhu (bear) pate and älgöt (elk)
meat. It must be the same sort of
cultural disorientation that a Fin
might experience when visiting the
Greek islands in the summer:
sunblasted strips of land populated
by noisy moped riders, blissful
frappé/ouzo drinkers playing
backgammon and elderly mourning
women in black. This brings to
mind a discussion I had with a
friend last summer when lying on
the beach, leafing through the
Sunday supplements we came
across the photographs that were
to furnish this year’s Greek pavilion
in the Biennale of Architecture in
Venice.
The main idea was to present by
focusing on sea travel the Aegean
archipelago as a scattered city; a
great concept in itself, we thought.
Still, the photographs by Spyros
Staveris and Stratos Kalafatis, the
two fairly prominent Greek
photographers who were chosen to
illustrate it, were far from catering to
the expectations raised by such a
brief. They were, no doubt,
aesthetically pleasing. Skilfully
composed or fussily recreating the
snapshot style, in saturated colours
or monochromatic, both series were
in tune with current photographic
trends; one could easily trace the
local or imported references. (For
instance, Kalafatis’s seascape with
ferry is far too similar to a black-and-Dra
fts
05
white photograph produced by one
of his Greek contemporaries several
years ago). What was most vexing
though, as issues of authenticity and
authorship may be beyond the point
here, was the reduplication of
clichés, of generalised and
oversimplified stereotypes that
revolved around a tourist oriented
couleur locale, being
accentuated by the unimaginative
captions with which the journalist
dutifully attempted to contextualise
the photographs. And this was not, I
felt, a conscious act of
deconstruction, some parodying,
postructuralist (à la Craig Owens)
reduplication, a metaphorical mise
en abyme that could revert if cleverly
used its very definition as repetition.
It may be that both nation and
national identity as concepts are
generally defined in relation to
shared topical origins, ethnicity,
cultural behaviours and ethnic
presuppositions, which, perceived as
distinguishing features and a form of
cultural membership, identify by a
two-way reflection and unite the
nationals in the homeland. And
indeed, an ideological construct
based on real economic
developments (Eric Hobsbawn) or
on “imagined communities”
(Benedict Anderson) as this may be,
the creation of an exportable
national identity, more timely than
ever a question in an era of
globalisation, is unavoidably
subjected to a mythologisation
process that cannot be, these
photographers seem to claim, but
stereotypical. Yet, the validity of the
old romanticised notion of a shared
singularly defined commonplace, of
a “collective mentality”, supposedly
part and parcel of a “national
character” that is specific and unique
to each nation, has long been
contested. And it is this bet on the
contest of the commonplace that
those photographs lost. And so did
those that Raatikainen presented, as
some Fin delegates argued while we
were sipping our reindeer soup
A. Moschovi
They are not Cuban, either
On the Sunday Vima of 29th October,
2006, Nasos Vayenas in an article
entitled “Parody in Power”
measures a condition of
contemporary art, according to
which “the boundaries between art
and reality have become so
indiscernible, that it is difficult to
tell the difference”, what is more,
ending in the conclusion that “ if a
period of artistic decadence is that,
in which art grazes on its own
flesh, the era when the artwork can
not be discriminated from its
travesty is a period of ultimate
decadence”.
The examples he presents in order to
support such fall of art onto the level
of reality are numerous as well as
expected: a cleaning crew who
mistook some pieces of sculpture for
trash, the members of an awarding
committee who got confused over a
storage room which they considered
as an installation, Tracy Emin’s bed,
Thanassis Totsikas’s watermelon. As
Dr Vayenas fails to refer in sources as
far as the first two examples are
concerned, the latter invest the
charming, mysterious aura of urban
myths, in this case we should refer to
them as “aesthetic myths”: it is all
about little stories which prove
paradigmatically that all modern art
is actually a fraud and they usually
include an artist, a curator and a
viewer in the role of Nasradin Hodza,
who cunningly uncovers the vicious
consensus and that naturally, as it is
the case with all urban myths, end in
an allusive moral conclusion in the
Drafts
06
form of a terrible penalty. In the case
of genuine urban myths the
punishment comes as a dreadful
catastrophe; in the case of the
aesthetic ones it arrives as a horrible
de-symbolization of the artwork. As
far as Tracy Amin and Thanos
Totsikas are concerned, I do fear that
they both deserve the title of the “
most frequently mentioned artist,
when one wishes to stigmatize art
for having distantiated itself from
the renaissance examples”, possibly
because both artists directly refer to
sexuality without taking the trouble
to disguise it under a fig-leaf.
I would actually tend to agree with
Dr Vayenas that we are really
experiencing an era of decadence-
although we would definitely
disagree as far as which had actually
been the time of prime and bloom.
Dr Vayenas appears finally to defend
as a period of prime exactly the years
which set the bases so that works
like the ones the cleaning crew
regarded as heap of iron trash to be
considered as genuine artworks;
however I do believe that the most
serious of his methodological lapses
is the following: the boundaries
between art and life have always
been difficult to tell and discern, at
least because art has always been a
reality which presupposed a
particular framework and context of
reception. The context of reception
has undoubtedly been dislocated
even in the museum premises. As
ever, one needs to be aware of the
codes of reading not only of the
artworks but also of the context
itself. Or one should be -at least- be
interested in knowing them. If not,
he risks the danger to feel the same
awkward surprise with the nice
middle-aged gentleman in Haris
Kakarouchas’s exhibition of his
photography of Cuba, some time
ago. The nice fellow approached two
ladies who chatted over a glass of
wine, examined them for some
minutes and then went away
murmuring audibly, “Fuck! They are
not Cuban, either”.
Th. Tramboulis
An Issue of Degree
It is certainly not unheard of – if it isn’t
even customary – for someone to
share their thoughts in writing
about something they are trying to
create or they are engaged with.
Moreover, this is something often
honest and charmingly personal -
precisely because it is only human
for one’s little manias and
prejudices to creep into the text. In
the end, it is no secret: when
someone dares to do something of
the sort, they boldly say “now I am
going to talk to you about me”. And
not only is there no reason to
criticize such an action – modesty is
a misunderstood concept,
particularly when combined with
moralizing – but we should value
the profound testimony that such
action entails. We should also think
that there are others who will bare
the responsibility of objectivity, the
person that talks about their own
self will however offer other
elements, and foremost that
attractive language one uses when
they are speaking about their world.
I would have liked all this to be a
description of Marina Fokidis’s text
in the Lifo newspaperette, about the
“Anathena” exhibition in the DESTE
Foundation. But for someone to
describe – in writing and in their own
column - as “highly anticipated” the
very exhibition they are curating,
makes me think once again that
everything is an issue of degree: like
the difference between good taste
and kitch.
Rodya
Drafts
John Stathatos delineates
the expansion of
photography’s discursive
field and examines the
particularities and paradoxes
that characterize the belated
accommodation of
photographic arts in Greece
Th
e d
isco
urs
e
is t
he
me
diu
m
Yorgis
Yerolymbos,
International
House 3, 2002 CO
UR
TE
SY
: A
.AN
TO
NO
PO
UL
OU
,AR
T
8
The discourse is the medium
At a time when its role in
international contemporary art is
uncontested, the precise identity of
the photographic image remains
the subject of a sterile and fruitless
confrontation in Greece – sterile,
insofar as the endless discussion
around the subject invariably lead
to ever more deeply entrenched
positions. These positions have
seen little if any change over the
last two decades: mutual suspicion,
sometimes even contempt,
continue to pointlessly divide the
world of Greek photography from
that of Greek fine artists who make
use of photographic imagery.
To repeat a few basic, even self-
evident observations, it is generally
acknowledged that photography is
a medium which incorporates a
great number of applications,
including those which could be
described as artistic – there is
therefore no reason why it should
not also embrace contemporary fine
art practice. Nevertheless, certain
uses, transformations and
appropriations of photographic
imagery by fine arts practitioners
may produce results which are
effectively far removed from
photographic practice. Furthermore,
it is worth remembering that unlike
those of hard science, artistic
definitions are at best tentative and
fluid, particularly when applied to
work situated in the no-man’s-land
between two or more media or
disciplines. In practice, the initial
distinction between photographic
and non-photographic work is
largely a matter of practical
considerations: whereas the work of
Cindy Sherman, for instance, is
essentially photographic, certain of
Boltanski’s pieces, though they may
derive their impact from
photographic documents, belong
more to the realms of installation
and sculpture than of photography.
Whether Sherman herself is more
accurately described as an artist or a
photographer is largely irrelevant.
There remains the fact that the
distinction between photographic
and fine art practices is less a matter
of the form or quality of the work,
as it is of the context in which it is
presented. Exactly the same work
which would be described as
quintessentially photographic when
exhibited in a photographically
oriented space and subjected to
analysis by photography critics will
be seen as a work of contemporary
visual art when exhibited in an art
gallery and discussed by art critics.
In other words, identity is defined
by discourse, and the point made
almost a decade ago is still valid:
“… a photograph claiming to be a
work of art which is treated as such,
is exhibited in a visual arts context
and partakes of the discourse of the
visual arts is self-evidently a work of
visual art”.1
It therefore goes without saying
that anyone wishing their
photographic work to be subsumed
within this discourse has every
possible incentive to fall in line with
its rules and ethos. These unwritten
but fairly rigid rules include a strong
preference for colour over black and
white; large dimensions; selection of
the exhibition space with an eye to
current fashion; mounting on
aluminium rather than matting and
Karin Borghouts, Untitled, from the Saga series, 2006
CO
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10
framing; and, of course, an up-to-
date and streetwise text by the right
sort of critic: references to Kristeva
or Virilio will punch other buttons
than references to Szarkowski or
Chevrier.
Co-option into the field of the visual
arts implies not only harmonisation
with dominant principles, but also
obedience to the laws of the market
– a market which, though still
exiguous as far as Greece is
concerned, undoubtedly regards
photographic work unambiguously
aligned with the fine arts with a
more benevolent eye. In turn,
acceptance by the market
presupposes a relatively high
valuation (since what is precious
must also be expensive), something
increasingly guaranteed by a
luxurious, even extravagant method
of presentation. These days, even
the aforementioned dry-mounting
on aluminium tends to be regarded
as old-fashioned, with the most
sought-after and expensive
photographic imagery now shown
entirely sheathed in heavy acrylic. In
practice, this is an expensive,
cumbersome and vulnerable
method of presentation –
characteristics guaranteeing both
quality and exclusivity.
There have of course been attempts
at promoting a povera version of
fine-art photography, some of them
by charter members of the BritArt
pack; an exhibition by Tracey Emin
at Laure Genillard some years ago
consisted of innumerable small
commercial colour prints pinned to
the gallery walls. Inevitably,
however, the rules of the market
exert irresistible pressure, and
sooner or later most artists fall into
line (a subsequent photographic
work by Emin consisted of a
numbered, limited edition of ten
prints, each 65x81 cms).
Incidentally, an intriguing side issue
concerns those artists whose
photographic work is the product of
talented but anonymous
photographers. Such cases are
rather more frequent than most
viewers realise, since under normal
circumstances these ‘collaborations’
are rarely publicised. Among the
better-known contemporary works
of art which come under this
heading are Helen Chadwick’s
Wreaths to Pleasure and Meat
Abstract series, as well as Hannah
Collins’ Heart and Soul, all of which
were produced by London
photographer Edward Woodman.
What is the cause of the ongoing
discord between Greek
photographers and artists? It can
largely, I believe, be ascribed to
mutual ignorance and suspicion
(though in general, the ignorance is
greatest on the part of the latter), as
well as to the innate tendency of
every group to defend its turf. I
encountered this almost instinctive
reaction while curating the survey
exhibition Image & Icon: The New
Greek Photography, 1975-1995 on
behalf of the Ministry of Culture.
The inclusion of work by a number
of individuals strongly identified as
‘artists’ rather than photographers
(Psychopaidis, Dimitriadi,
Tsoumblekas, Papadimitriou and
others) provoked a reaction on two
fronts: on the one hand from
The discourse is the medium
Eleni Maligoura, Self-Portrait, 2006
CO
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12
photographers who felt that the
supposedly embattled photography
faction had thereby in some way
been betrayed, and on the other
from certain art critics who resented
the intrusion into what they
regarded as their personal
preserves.
It is nevertheless true that the
structures of the Greek art world
today favour those photographers
who have been seen to actively
position themselves within the fine
art faction; in practice this means
that those outside the charmed
circle are rarely if ever considered
for participation in major group
shows, international festivals or
other shares of the in any case
exiguous official cake. Two
examples of this obscurantism
should suffice. The first concerns
the exhibition Metamorphoses of
the Modern: The Greek Experience
curated by Anna Kafetsi for the
National Gallery in 1992, a survey
which covered all the visual arts
with the sole exception of
photography; only ignorance could
explain how it is possible to
approach the history of Modernism
in Greece without reference to the
work of Voula Papaioannou or
Dimitris Charisiadis. A similar case
was the 1997 publication of the
four-volume Dictionary of Greek
Artists, which found space for
potters and puppeteers, but
thought it appropriate to ignore
photographers entirely.
The realisation that the work of
some of the most successful
contemporary Greek photographers
associated with the ‘artistic’ faction
(for instance, Panos Kokkinias, Nikos
Markou, Christina Dimitriadi or
Yiorgis Yerolymbos) could easily
and without any essential change
be approached as purely
‘photographic’ is convincing proof
that the disagreement is essentially
superficial, concerning issues of
presentation and status more than
anything else.
Further confirmation was provided
by the recent 13th Athens Month of
Photography. The Month’s two
most interesting solo exhibitions,
those of Stratos Kalafatis at
Kalfayian gallery and of Karin
Borghouts at a.antonopoulou.art
would have fitted equally well into
either category; the same applied to
the notable exhibitions of Athina
Chroni (Bios), Eleni Maligoura
(Artower Agora), Yiannis Kostaris
(Aleph) and Yiorgos Katsangelos
(ELIA). Were these works examples
of photography or of fine art?
Depending on circumstances, the
label applied (a label easily
modified) may affect a work’s
recognition or market potential –
under no circumstances, however,
can it affect its quality. All that
changes is the frame.2
1 John Stathatos, Image & Icon: The New GreekPhotography, 1975-1995, catalogue of the eponymousexhibition, Greek Ministry of Culture & MacedonianMuseum of Contemporary Art, 1997, p.LXXVII (revisedtext).
2 Consider a 17th-century history painting exhibitedwithout its massive carved frame – let us say, Velazquez’sthree by three-and-a-half metre Surrender of Breda in thePrado.
The discourse is the medium
·.
Arabella Plouviez presents
the international
programme IPRN and the
exhibition Changing Faces
IPR
N &
Ch
an
gin
gF
ace
s
CO
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IP
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Rob Hornstra (The
Netherlands), from the
series Roots of the
Runtur, commission
hosted by the National
Museum of Iceland,
Reykjavik,
Iceland, 2005
08
The International Photography
Research Network (IPRN) is an
organisation linking the work of
art schools, practitioners,
academic institutions, museums,
galleries and archives
internationally. The aim is to
stimulate the quality and
presentation of contemporary
photographic practice, academic
and artistic research and
photography related theory. We
seek to achieve this by providing a
platform for international
exchange leading to collaborative
projects, exhibitions, publications,
research, conferences, networking,
shared databases and archives.
The IPRN grew out of the desire of
the University of Sunderland’s
Photography Department’s staff to
create opportunities and
connections with photographic
organisations outside of the UK.
Being based in the North East of
England has proved to be limiting
when so much photographic
activity (as with many other things)
is focussed on London and the
South East, and it seemed more
viable to generate creative
partnerships and possibilities with
individuals and organisation in
Europe rather than solely in the UK.
Funding for photography in the UK
has changed significantly over the
past 20 years. England had
developed a number of
photography specific gallery
spaces across the country and
through the 1990’s these began to
disappear. The funding for
photography, which had
predominantly come from the Arts
Council, became more general,
with it being aimed at art, rather
than specifically at photography
and as this new agenda embedded,
there was less and less specifically
aimed at, or received by,
photography. If art galleries now
included photography within the
mainstream, there was no need for
specialist galleries anymore. But
this has denied the audience, and
reduced the opportunities for the
practitioners. It was within this
atmosphere of decline in the
support for photography that the
staff at Sunderland felt the need to
develop new connections outside
of the UK. In turn, this has provided
some extraordinary opportunities
that have enabled the IPRN to
develop new commissions for
photographers and for the
audiences to grow.
At its heart, the IPRN is a network of
people passionate about high
quality contemporary
photographic practice that
engages with ideas and issues both
within photography and across the
wider political agenda. Initiated by
the staff at the University of
Sunderland, partnerships began to
be established with individuals in
organisations who recognised that
working together can be creative,
challenging and provide new
perspectives in terms of approach
and operation.
With financial support from the Arts
Council England to support
photographic fellowships with our
new partners, it became evident
that there were concerns about the
IPRN & Changing Faces
CO
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IP
RN
Arturas Valiauga
(Lithuania), from the
series Still Identity,
commission hosted by
University of
Leiden/Paradox, The
Netherlands, 2005
16
inequality of the relationship - that
is, the photographers were all from
the UK, making the process one-
sided and there was a lack of any
longer term planning or
sustainability. This led us to pull
together an application to the
Culture 2000 EU programme for a
three year project called Changing
Faces, alongside our now firmly
established partners: Ute Eskildsen
from Museum Folkwang, Essen,
Germany; Kimmo Lehtonen from
the University of Jyvaskyla and
Centre for Creative Photography,
Jyvaskyla Finland; Lucia Benicka
from Dom Fotografie, Liptovsky
Mikulas, Slovakia; Bas Vroege from
Paradox and University of Leiden;
The Netherlands.
It also became apparent through
negotiating the first commissions
that there needed to be some kind
of theme to provide a context and
some continuity across the
different work being produced -
something that would
accommodate a range of practices,
artistic approaches and responses
whilst also being able to be
interpreted in an interesting way in
a range of different places. The
theme of ‘work’ seemed to provide
a subject that was both broad
enough to be interrogated and
interpreted in different countries,
whilst providing a framework for
the production to fit into.
Changing Faces was remarkable in
being one of only 2 projects that
received three year funding from
the EU Culture 2000 fund, and for
the first time this funding was
coming into photography. It is both
the individuals and their respective
organisations, who have been the
key to the success of IPRN. The
partners are people who have
taken a leap of faith, or perhaps had
the imagination to see the risks as
worth taking.
Suddenly, as a group, we had a
major programme to deliver and at
the same time we were a new kind
of organisation, which did not
appear to have any easily
identifiable precedent. We have
had to learn on the job, and
inevitably there are some things we
could have done better whilst other
things have been hugely
successful. Delivering the
programme of activity that is
mapped out in our EU application is
very challenging. There are six
international exchanges of
photographers involving the
partner countries, but in each year
three ‘new’ countries are added.
This entails the researching of
relevant contacts and
organisations to select and host the
commissioned photographers.
There also needs to be the
opportunity to exhibit or
disseminate the work after
production. Each year there is also:
a major international conference, a
collective exhibition that
incorporates all the work, and a
publication that brings together
the work with some exploration of
the photographers’ experience
through the process along with
selected papers from the
conference. Then there is the web-
site, which provides a digital
archive and the physical archive
IPRN & Changing Faces
Arabella Plouviez (UK), from the series Naristan (Ladyland), commission hosted by DRIK, Bangladesh, 2005
CO
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18
which is based at Dom Fotografie in
Liptovsky Mikulas, Slovakia.
The exhibition in Athens, as part of
the 13th International Month of
Photography, was first shown at
the Museum Folkwang, Germany,
and includes the work produced by
the photographers commissioned
in the first year of the Changing
Faces programme.
Icelandic photographer Orri was
sent to Slovakia, that resulted in
him producing a stark body of silver
gelatine prints, that speak of the
absence of work and industry but
also the rawness and frailty of
nature there.
Rob Hornstra from The Netherlands
travelled to Iceland, where he
focussed on disengaged and
disenchanted youth, the
abandonment of rural landscapes
and the influx of migrant workers
into the surviving Icelandic
industries.
Finnish Photographer Renja Leino’s
commission in Usti nad Labem in
the Czech Republic provided an
insight into the ‘digital invasion’
and the presence of computers in
the lives of the young people there.
Her subjects are lost in thought at
their computers; surfing the inter-
net, playing games or working. The
use of a mobile phone as her
camera provides reference to the
people she chose to engage with
but also to ‘snapshot’ photography.
Stepanka Stein and Salim Issa from
the Czech Republic travelled to the
North East of England where they
captured people at leisure,
escaping their ordinary working
class lives; a day at the beach,
partying on a bank holiday, or a
night at the dog racing. In spite of
the subjects’ confident stances, the
images are characterised by a
somewhat oppressive atmosphere,
through the use of reduced colour
and the low lighting that bathe the
scenes.
Thomas Neumann asked the young
of Lithuania to describe their hopes
and aspirations and how they were
affected or improved by Lithuania’s
accession to Europe in May 2005.
The project was realised as a large
wooden rocket, bearing cut- out
images from glossy youth
magazines, juxtaposed with textual
responses from those he
approached. The structure can be
seen as providing a nod to the
country’s soviet past or as a
futuristic emblem of travel to new
worlds.
Arturas Valiauga, from Lithuania,
spent time in the Netherlands
working with the Lithuanian
community in Amsterdam, creating
panoramas, stitched together to
provide a complex interweaving of
people and their possessions
To date, the IPRN has managed 25
commissions and worked in 15
countries, each commission
responding to the broad theme of
work. Of these about half are
funded through the Changing
Faces project, whilst the others
have required funds from other
sources.
The IPRN is working with
institutions that bring different
IPRN & Changing Faces
19
IPRN & Changing Faces
demands and agendas in relation
to contemporary photography,
whilst each country also brings
different funding criteria and
agendas to the table. These
different agendas continue to
challenge and inform the way that
we work.
At the same time there are a
number of questions that have
come up through the project.
Inevitably this includes the right to
fail, that is, what happens if a
photographer is unable to achieve
the work that they have proposed?
Further more, there are questions
such as; the commissions provide a
two-month period for
photographers to work in a
different country, but what does
that mean in terms of non-
indigenous photographers
working outside their own
territory? This can provide a ‘new
eye’ but can equally be superficial.
For many that has meant
transposing their practice onto
another place with differing
outcomes. Another debate that has
developed is whether it is
important that the work
undertaken speaks directly about
the place and culture that the
photographer is working in.
Certainly for some this is important
and influential, whilst for others it is
not. The selection processes have
also created much debate, as have
the different expectations and
aspirations within photography in
different countries. We do not claim
to have answers, but are testing out
different ways of addressing the
issues. Equally, we try to evaluate
the impact of this activity, although
it is often the longer-term impact,
which is harder to evaluate that is
the most interesting.
After the success of the Bangladesh
to UK commission in 2004,
undertaken by Shahidul Alam, the
UK section of IPRN wanted to
extend this relationship. The
potential was to develop a very
different photographic dialogue by
creating further exchanges
between Asia and the UK. This
included sending a UK
photographer to Bangladesh,
which I was selected for. The
representation of Islamic countries
has clearly shifted in the West in
recent years whilst there is still the
equally problematic relationship of
notions of the ‘first’ and ‘third’
world. Moreover, creating
commissions in Asia raised new
challenges, such as making work
for much more diverse audiences
within both European and the Asia.
Shahidul Alam came from
Bangladesh to the UK in 2004/5 and
made work which looked at the
aristocracy, in a piece called People
of Leisure. Shahidul used the
commission as an opportunity to
reverse the ‘usual’
photographer/subject relationship,
to spend time as an Asian
photographer representing the
institutions and the individuals of
British aristocracy, to explore these
peoples’ views and ideas. As
Shahidul says ‘I join hands with
others in returning the colonial
gaze. This work is for the colonisers
as much as it is for us.’ The images
bring together the rural estate with
20
IPRN & Changing Faces
the city club, the inevitable tweed
and hunting and racing, those
spaces and signifiers that are so
clearly occupied and owned by the
privileged classes and embedded
in the histories that define British
aristocracy.
When planning to work in
Bangladesh I was conscious of
avoiding the stereotypical views. I
wanted to make work about
women and education. My research
led me to the work of Begum
Rokeya Hussain, a still celebrated,
early twentieth-century, feminist
writer, who, also importantly,
started the first school for girls.
Rokeya’s work, Sultana’s Dream
describes a feminist Muslim utopia
and I have combined quotes from
this text with portraits of middle-
class women in their home
environments. Sitting in posed
moments of reflection, always with
reference to books, as well as the
domestic, the work reflects upon
the importance of access to
education and specifically literacy.
This provides people with the tools
for development and progress
within their lives and the
opportunity to be ambitious and
challenging of the status quo.
It is also important that the work
gets out and is circulated, so that a
range of audiences can have access
to it. This has been through
individual and group exhibitions as
well as publications. Often the work
is shown in the country it has been
made in, but also there are tours of
work, bringing together
commissions that naturally pair.
Just as the first Changing Faces
exhibition was originally shown in
Museum Folkwang, Germany and is
now in Athens as part of the month
of photography, and will then
move on to Milan, the Asian work is
due to be exhibited in the National
Gallery of Malaysia, in spring 2007,
and will also be shown in the form
of projections as part of the
Photography Festival in Cambodia
in late 2006.
It is key for the IPRN to continue to
be organic rather than prescriptive
in its development. It is also
important that it does not only
extend and expand but is able to
reflect on and deepen the work, to
grow further opportunities
alongside countries where we have
created like-minded relationships.
The work from the IPRN is greater
than the sum of its parts, and it has
become an element of a dialogue,
about photography, about
commissioning and about work
through production, research,
exhibition, publication, and
archive. As a network, the IPRN is
developing a dialogue
internationally through and about
contemporary photography,
gaining from different histories,
activities and cultures.
The IPRN exhibition Changing Faces, is held
at the American College of Athens –
Cultural Center (ACG Art, (Ipitou 17b,
Plaka), from 11th October until 1st
December.
·.
Stavros Moressopoulos talks
to Fotini Barka about the
Month of Photography in
Athens, about its successes
and difficulties
Inte
rvie
w
PH
OT
O: P
AN
OS
KO
KK
INIA
S
22
Interview
I met Stavros Moressopoulos at the
office of the Hellenic Photography
Centre, at the foot of the Acropolis,
enjoying his first hours of relaxation
after the completion of the 13th
International Month of
Photography in Athens. Although
this was the 13th time the event
was held, the concept is now
twenty years old, and its artistic
director has begun to think about
the succeeding scheme. Person-
centred organizations often lose
their value when passed on to new
hands, he says. He does not believe
that there are no capable persons to
succeed him, but “one must be
somewhat of a juggler in order to
do something like that in Greece,
and that is not easy for most
people.”
For him, it all started in Thessaloniki
in the 1970s. His first encounter
with photography was through a
Minolta SRT 101 he bought in 1969.
An amateur photography lover,
staff director for Nestle, it was a
matter of time before he changed
course.
And he did. In 1977, he took the
plunge by publishing the magazine
“ºˆÙÔÁÚ·Ê›·”. Its success made
him move to Athens in 1986,
establish the Hellenic Photography
Centre, and in April 1987 the 1st
International Month of
Photography, having as its model
the Paris Month of Photography
and supported by the Municipality
of Athens and the Ministry of
Culture.
He proudly shows me his collection
of clippings dating from this
period, whose size reveals that it
was a very powerful start. “From
our first year we managed to be
considered by related international
festivals as one of Europe’s most
important photography events. We
managed to put Athens on the map
right away.”
The Month of Photography was
then organized every two years.
Thus, the second event was in 1989
and the third one in 1991, when
Stavros Moressopoulos had to
close down the business.
The frequent change of
governments, and therefore of
ministers of Culture, forced him to
play a hardly congenial “hide and
seek” in their offices. The dire
financial condition of the Month of
Photography soon led him to
indignation and he gave up.
In 1994, the minister of Culture at
the time, Thanos Mikroutsikos,
began the City Cultural Network,
signing a programmatic contract
with Skopelos for the Photography
Centre to be established on the
island. “For the first time,
Mikroutsikos showed that he
cared.” A committee was
established (Moressopoulos being
one of the members) at the Ministry
of Culture in order to develop a
policy for photography, and the
legislative regulation required for
establishing the Thessaloniki
Photography Museum began to be
discussed.
Thus, in 1997, when the law for the
24
Interview
TPM was passed, Stavros
Moressopoulos decided to become
active once again with the now
annual Month of Photography. “I
believe that this was our best year.”
Yet, the problems remain the same.
“The question was and still is how
an event in Greece can get the
necessary support by the Ministry
of Culture in order to last over time.
My view is that no Ministry of
Culture is obliged to accept
everyone’s proposal. It suffices that
first the Ministry of Culture
establishes the practices that
enable it to know who is who, what
is what, and whether the project
meets the criteria in order to be
supported. This is the spirit in
which I approach the Ministry of
Culture every time that there is a
change of leadership. Eventually,
someone should impose some sort
of order so that the value added by
every event to culture and the
Ministry should be measured.
Unfortunately this is not the case.
Mr. Voulgarakis seems to be
interested in this respect.”
Which were the objectives of theMonth of Photography when youstarted?
“From 1997 on, experience showed
that using mostly municipal
galleries required resources, such
as security personnel, exceeding
the modest abilities of a small team
such as ours. Thus, I contacted Julia
Dimakopoulou, former PSAT
chairwoman, in order to begin the
Month of Photography with the
participation of its member
galleries. This was implemented,
and thus one of our objectives, that
is, to introduce photography into
the art galleries, was met.”
What about your otherobjectives?
“The two key objectives when we
first started were to help
photography to develop in Greece
and to promote the Greek works
abroad. The latter was achieved in
the early years in a very simple way:
We invited people from abroad,
something we do every year; we
simply had the opportunity then, in
other words we could afford to set
certain conditions. We therefore
said to them, we invite you, we take
the cultural product that your
country exports, we bring you here
in order for you to see what we do,
visit Greece, see the Parthenon, but
you must promise when you leave
to organize a similar Greek
exhibition in your country. We are
not going to tell you what that
should be; we will give you the
opportunity to see what is
happening in our country, and the
choice is yours. This is how David
Bussels, who we invited from the
Primavera Photografica in
Barcelona, chose Nelly’s. Similarly,
Z. Monteroso from Mois de la photo
a Paris presented an exhibition of
Antoniadis-Depollas in Paris. Fred
Baldwin from Huston Photo Fest
invited the Athens Photography
Centre, and a very large exhibition
was organized in Houston, and so
many other events.
From 1997 on, there was no
25
Interview
support form the Ministry along the
lines of go ahead and organize
things and we are right behind you.
But when you don’t know what
your budget next year will be, you
cannot work internationally. This is
the main problem. The truth is that
after 1997, we did not manage to
go ahead with a plan and say that
now we will work for next year. On
the contrary, what we often say and
have repeatedly written in our
catalogues is that we are
organizing the event this year – for
there were years when we had zero
support from the Ministry – in the
hope that something is going to
change next year so that we will
still be entitled to do it again.”
“This year, I literally tread on
unknown ground. I was almost
convinced that after having lasted
for twenty years, it might be time to
finish with all this. And just when
we said that we were going to close
down shop for the second time,
there was true interest from the
Ministry of Culture. As usual, we
submitted our papers again,
proved that we were not an
elephant, and there was a
substantial response.
What exactly was that?
“I was invited on several occasions
to speak about what we do, what
we have in mind, we in effect
discussed the benefits from such an
event, and we finally received a
major grant in the order of 50,000
euro.”
Does this sum cover the Month of
Photography expenses or is thereother income, from sponsors forexample?
“The Month of Photography has
not managed to secure a major
sponsor, for sponsorship in Greece
is a matter of acquaintances. I do
not believe that photography is
less important to people and
sponsors. It is simple. If you know
the right people you can find
sponsors.”
Consequently, these 50,000 eurosare your only capital?
“It is the basis for a festival
somewhat smaller from the one we
did this year. We need double that
amount in order to be able to go
international. If events such as the
Month of Photography do not
export works, they have no reason
to be. It is not possible to
collaborate with the Goethe
Institut, the French Institute, the
Hellenic-American Union and
import their culture; to be forced to
import work from other countries
because this is the only way that an
event can build an international
character and at the same time not
to be able to make these people
export something of ours to their
own countries. This cannot be
done, unless we have money.”
What is it that you can cite as yourachievements after these 20years?
“That we did promote
photography, and that we began
the export of Greek works. I
remember back then, when I
travelled abroad, when the country
27
Interview
of Greece was mentioned, three
things came to mind: John Demos,
Kostas Manos, Lucas Samaras! We
believe that we have certainly
prepared the ground for exporting
Greek works. Another goal that was
always on our mind was to get
Greek photography into the
galleries. There are indeed
obstacles that remain. There are
photographers who state that
photography should not be in
galleries. I reply to them that
obviously their work is not good
enough for that and this is their
excuse. There are also artists from
other disciplines who argue that
photography does not deserve this
treatment. I believe that these are
the ones who have benefited from
photography, they are the ones
who have learned to paint based
on photography, and the existence
of the media in the galleries
frightens them.”
Why a Month of Photographyafter all?
“What else would make it possible
to have 47 exhibitions in the
same city, demonstrating that
photography is an art, that
photography is here, see it,
enjoy it?”
Yes, but if 20 years ago the stakefor you was to prove thatphotography is an art, it cannotbe the same in 2007.
“Definitely. It should take into
serious consideration the new
media and the ways it can use
them. Moreover, it should take into
consideration the results of these
new media. The image cannot be
monostil anymore. There is more to
be assimilated. Video art for
instance is a field that should
merged with photography. I am
not saying that video art should be
introduced into an event such as
mine, but there are things that
have to be merged and be jointly
shown. Internationally, similar
events are still in the process of
redefining themselves. Yet, video
and multimedia in general are
there, too, but they are secondary
activities. In other words, video art
should not be in a photography
event what photography used to
be in relation to other arts;
photography, on the other hand,
should not be a second rate
product at a video art festival.
Some things should open up. This
is the challenge for me.”
How would your objectives beredefined twenty years later,given the rapid growth of themedium?
“Every event should constantly
reinvent itself. Redefine its goals
and the necessity of its existence.
We have shown what we are able to
do even from our first year. If we
had had the support required, the
Month of Photography would have
been the top event today. I know
what we can achieve. At any rate,
we must redefine our goals with
respect to the image in general.
Nobody can doubt that even
though the use of photography
continues to increase, at the same
time it recedes as an autonomous
28
Interview
entity due to the new technologies.
Thus, photography today must be
very dynamically redefined. Yet, we
must once again speak of the
means at one’s disposal for this
redefinition. If we have not secured
the means to enable us to organize
the next Month of Photography,
perhaps our way to redefine
ourselves would be to ask: ‘should
we stop it?’”
Could it be that the Month ofPhotography should produceworks instead of simply hosting it?
“Every festival must have its own
production in order to establish its
own identity. We have a unit every
year. What is it? Sometimes it is
substantial and sometimes it is only a
title. Yet, do not imagine that this is
the case only in Greece. I have seen it
happen in Paris, too. A title that is so
broad as to accommodate anything.
This year, too. “About faces.” Which
means that any photograph
featuring a human figure or even its
absence can fit. We certainly tried to
approach this very broad theme in
three respects: morality, ambiguity,
allegory. These can accommodate
even more to a certain extent. The
Month of Photography and
Photosynkyria are two festivals
through which most photography
projects go. This does not mean that
photographers who produce work
should wait for a title to be
announced before they can produce
it, for they would not be creating art if
they did. Therefore, the events are
obliged to take into consideration
the contemporary production
irrespective of their thematic
contents. And the Photography
Museum does thematic productions
on works which are already there. In
other words, it makes selections in
Greece and other countries. Yet,
what should happen is to invite to
produce works, to commission. This
is something that I cannot do. It is the
work of cultural policy. It is the work
of the Ministry. I made an attempt
this year to ask a grant of 5,000 euro
from a few foundations (Onassis,
Niarchos, and Costopoulos) in order
for a commission programme to be
established. Two out of three replied
negative, the third is yet to discuss it
at the Board. A cultural policy should
not include only entities which
receive money in order to organize
events. Agencies are useful, but if a
gifted artist does not get money in
order to produce works, neither the
agency nor the country will have
anything to exhibit.”
Which is the public of the Month ofPhotography and how large is it?
“The main number of visits
depends on the venue where an
event is held. When you go to the
Benaki Museum and there are
queues, it’s like you are at the
Pompidou, or the Tate. Yet, the
Benaki is the happy exception; I
wish we could clone it. There is no
other venue with a ticket. Some
have their public, some don’t. Yet
the fact that they come to the
Month of Photography again and
again means something. There is a
result. Yet, as to numbers, I do not
know what to tell you.” ·.
For the fleeting view of the
exhibition What remains is
future and his contrapuntal
participation in the
performance A Monster of
Education of Alexandros
Psychoulis writes Thanos
Stathopoulos
Th
e r
ea
lm
of
mo
de
s
The day after
the opening,
the artists with
hangover
30
The realm of modes
“I get into the position of someone who
does something–not someone who
speaks about something: I do not
study a product; I get to produce
something. I do away with
discoursing about the discourse. No
more does the world come to me in
the form of an object, but in the
form of writing, that is, of actual
practice.”
Roland Barthes, For a long time, I used
to go to bed early
I found myself in Patras, participating
in the exhibition What remains is
future, responding to an invitation
(challenge) by visual artist
Alexandros Psychoulis to
contribute, as a member to
PoetsInSiesta, to the performance
that he was organising for the event,
entitled A Monster of Education. We
have regularly and very productively
cooperated with Alexandros in recent
years, on various occasions and
varying circumstances, requirements
and projects. Our cooperation has
always been open to action and
interaction. My engagement with
visual art is polyrhythmic and
evolving, yet clear. That is, I am mostly
interested in introducing and using
speech as an active element of the
visual vocabulary; I am also interested
in the “solution” of genres, as art
genres are no more subject to rules
and formative conditions of
autonomy as they have been in the
past, but are only subject to an
interpretation, which may place them
in a certain context or expand them.
Of course, by that I do not mean that a
text, for instance, ceases to exist as a
text, within its familiar context.
Certainly, a text continues to be a
text; yet, its genre is not necessarily
made specific. On the contrary, in its
indeterminacy it becomes a
punctuation mark in a broader
signifying text, marked by the
cumulative effect of manners, forms
and signs, implying a critical
metaphor (or a vanishing act),
occurring ad infinitum. The curator of
the exhibition What remains is the
future, Nadia Argyropoulou, seems to
adopt this view, as she has broadened
the scope of the exhibition to include
the participation of several artists of
diverse backgrounds, yet always with
a converging approach and
experience. “What should one expect
from this exhibition?” she asks
rhetorically in a caption in the first
fanzine accompanying What remains
is the future, and continues: “A
manner, rather than a genre…” The
exhibition has been organized in such
a way that anyone could relate to it. It
proposes reading current Greek art
through a flow of activity from
everyday life and its vocabulary:
music culture, fringe press, internet
reviews, films and television,
independent events, fashion, web
associations, advertising, graphics,
street poetry…” Indeed, this
“manner” as well as this “flow of
activity” infuse the exhibition with an
air of freedom, of casualness and
“habitation.” The Old Arsakeio Girls’
School, in its current inconclusive
state, has posed a great challenge.
Those of us who found ourselves
there (even for a short time, as in my
case) during the organization of the
exhibition, producing the works in
situ or making last-minute
arrangements, wandering around the
classrooms, corridors and wings of
the old school, climbing up the stairs
∆he Monster of Education, image of the concert
32
The realm of modes
and down the basements – coming
across blackboards, chalk, toilets – we
all made the discovery of a space so
vibrant, so charged with emotion that
it was impossible to pass or not to feel
as the location of your own school
years. This illusion was shattered at
the same time by the presence of the
artists and the works taking shape
right there, in front of one’s eyes. As if
one were dreaming of one’s life and
living it at the same time. Lights,
cables, all sorts of materials,
projectors, sounds, rubble, metal,
Plexiglas, trial video projections, all
transcended the concept of the old
school from the “young girls’
education” of old to an education in
materials. Most of the works
“inhabited” and “were inhabited by”
the space and the distinct character
of Arsakeio, producing a multiplicity
of associations, often unexpected
ones. As to how the site-specificity of
the exhibition was finally impossible
to be realized in full, blame it on sorry
state of the official art establishment
and perhaps on the personal conduct
of certain artists; at any rate, the
manner was not altered. This
exhibition is an account of what-is-
happening-now (another, in situ
version) in the Greek visual art scene,
presenting very young artists side by
side with a few somewhat older ones.
The initiative is undoubtedly
contrapuntal and radical, partly
because for the first time in a Greek
event of this scale and of official
status has such a blend emerged,
which involves — without any
shadow of a complex or a nervous tic
— different ages and generations
(that is, some already mature artists,
along with artists in the process of
finding their voices or yet to be
proven ones; in other words,
established manners and personal
idioms, along with manners still in the
process of formation and exploration,
and/or yet to be proven). And this,
often in reverse, in a narrative
happening strictly in the present
tense and with a curator who did not
shy away from the distinct fluidity –
nay, the quicksand – of classifying
such a young generation, nor from
errors, disagreements and
omissions.1 The result clearly
indicated — besides the terms and
conditions of contemporary visual
production — a fleeting view, the
interplay of works and conditions.
Aside from the quality of the works,
which was mostly of a high standard,
the impression created is one of a
truly happy exhibition, devoid of
clichés and fashionable patterns,
which did not try to “conclude” or
punctuate, although punctuate it
certainly did. This look at the current
visual scene met my own eye on the
evening of the opening, first coming
across a wall and then, miraculously,
across another gaze in the “fuck”
performance by the Ionas brothers,
before surrendering to the wonderful
flow of activity and the realm of
narratives and modes.
The group exhibition Whatever Remains is
Future, organized by Aggeliki Andonopoulou
and curated by Nadia Argiropoulou, is held
at Patras, from 23rd September until 19th
November.
1 “It goes without saying, the curator notes in the samefanzine, that at the end of the day the risk, theresponsibility of each participation and any omissionsbelong to the exhibition curator, and this contract is themain difference between a curator and an art manager oran event manager, such as those who abound in thevisual arts scene nowadays.”
·.
For the hermetic, ascetic,
transitional exhibition of
Moris Ganis writes
Christopher Marinos
Dia
l S
ou
l: A
Ro
om
w
ith
ou
t a
Vie
w
Moris Ganis,
Dialsoul#2, 2006 CO
UR
TE
SY
: G
AL
LE
RY
3
34
In connection to last year’s Prague
Biennale 2, organizers Giancarlo
Politi and Helena Kontova stated in
an interview that the exhibition
Expanded Painting, organized in the
Biennale, “attempts to present the
state of painting today, reflecting
the reality of the situation as it is
lived by artists. It treats painting as
ongoing research, with its own
patterns of growth and behavior,
rather than approaching the
medium from a contrived or
artificially constructed critical
standpoint. We just want the
exhibition to be as genuine a
reflection of current practice in
painting as possible.” 1 In their
attempt, therefore, to provide a
genuine reflection of current
practice in painting, the curators of
the aforementioned exhibition
suggest that we often forget that
painting is produced and operates
according to its own, inner
mechanisms, over and above
specific trends and tendencies. In
other words, if painting is to resist
the homogenized dictatorship of
media images under the present
circumstances, it must break free of
the guidelines imposed to it by the
art market and exhibition curators.
Accordingly, if art presents the state
of painting today “as it is lived by
artists” – more specifically, painters –
even though it may not make as
good or as promising an impression,
there are still more chances for it to
be a genuine reflection of the times.
Entitled Dial Souls, the new solo
exhibition by Maurice Ganis at
Gallery 3 provides a solid argument
in favor of the aforementioned
opinions expressed by Politi and
Kontova. In order to facilitate this, in
other words to be able to classify
Dial Soul as “ongoing research,” we
must make a short survey of the
artist’s work over the years. Born in
Trikala, Greece in 1973 and raised in
Thessaloniki, Ganis studied painting
at the Bezalel Academy in Jerusalem
– a fact immediately setting him
apart from other Greek painters of
his age. He graduated in 1996.
During this early period, he worked
on Club, a series of works (acrylic on
wood) of a specific size (60x70),
which examine the relation between
the outside space and the inner,
spiritual space. This was a phase of
intense searching for a personal
point of view, which led the artist to
experimentation through painting
artificial spaces, evoking the worries
and concerns of a person of his age
who experiences an environment
such as his. In 1998, he participated
at the group exhibition The Artist’s
Ideal Home at Foka Gallery in
Thessaloniki, contributed to a group
exhibition at Rebecca Camhi Gallery
in Athens – it was then that he
painted Lady Diana pursued by the
paparazzi – and in 1999 he came to
the forefront when Dan Cameron
selected his work for the exhibition
METRO: New Trends in
Contemporary Greek Art, organized
at the DESTE Foundation in Athens.
In a statement, a few months later,
Ganis wrote: “I am creating my own
mythology. Every new element,
imported into this world, adds a new
piece to the endless puzzle of this
mythology. The ‘realistic’ space of
the studio provides me with enough
room for the realization of my
projects – from the most modest to
the most megalomaniacal. Narrative,
the source of the image and the
aspect of space will continue to be
the main tools sustaining my
method.” This method was to
emerge even more clearly in spring
2001, in his first solo exhibition at
Camhi Gallery, when he presented
his Circo Pagani – The Circus of the
Image Hunters. The exhibition
Dial Soul: A Room without a View
Moris Ganis, TABLE#3, 2006
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Dial Soul: ŒÓ· ‰ˆÌ¿ÙÈÔ ¯ˆÚ›˜ ı¤·
included paintings which depicted
the artist’s studio, based on his
personal mood, an installation-
simulation of a circus as well as a
music happening at the gallery. In
his distinctive version of a circus,
Ganis wished to identify the
mechanism by which we conceive
the images reflected in memory,
which differs in specific respects
from a photographic capture of an
existing image. As the artist stated at
the time, “the differentiation
between an animate and an
inanimate object is the basis –
motion follows.”
Five years and two more solo
exhibitions later, Ganis continues to
focus on the representation of
spaces which “describe reality as
experienced by the artist.” The ten
paintings comprising Dial Soul
depict, in a semi-abstract fashion,
the interiors inhabited by the artist.
They are arranged in the gallery in
such a way as to achieve an effect of
simulation. In fact, it is an expanded
painting installation, which, as stated
in the press release, “what the artist
proposes is the thought that he
himself creates and experiences,
rather than images from the
surrounding world.” Besides its
expanded nature, Ganis’ painting
proves equally representative of its
times, and not simply because it
makes widespread use of mobile
telephony catchphrases, synthesized
jingles and computer smileys.2 Ganis
began as a pop-impressionist of daily
reality in an era of a global culture,
before arriving at a more hermetic,
ascetic, almost antiquated
vocabulary – characteristically, his
adopted iconographic language is
the one we come across in the
Nineties –, in a deliberately or not
cannibalistic painting, regurgitating
on itself. Dial Soul is a simple,
immediate exhibition without
superficiality or cheap effects; at the
same time, it is suspiciously neutral
and distanced. One might say that
Ganis went from a Seraut period
(discos, clubs, circus, paparazzi) to a
Van Gogh period (seclusion, self-
cleansing, mysterious fascination,
hypnotic aura). While he still
continues to be engaged in the
secularization of everyday images, in
Dial Soul he goes one step further,
depicting introversion, the shift
towards an impersonal privacy, as
well as a state of embarrassment
regarding the very medium of
painting (in spite of the excitement
surrounding its supposed triumphal
revival). In conclusion, Dial Soul is an
exhibition which, at least indirectly,
reflects the “transition” from one era
to another, from one century to the
next, from one end of a decade
(1996) to the other (2006). Only the
future can tell if the manner in which
Ganis experiences the present reality
will be the end, or the beginning of a
new, more optimistic iconography.
Besides, as the painter said with
respect to his work in January 1996,
“photography is a tool that helps me
to collect elements of the outside
world. The rest is all a reflection of
my mental space.”
Moris Ganisãs exhibition Dial Soul at the
Gallery 3 (3 Fokilidou,Kolonaki, 210 3628 230,
[email protected])was held from 06th
October until 04th November.
1 The 2nd Biennale in Prague (May 26 – September 152005) revolved around two main themes: The ExpandedPainting - Painting and Around exhibition, and theexhibition AcciÛn Directa, art as political action. Greekartists participating in Expanded Painting were MiltosManetas and Diana Mangania.
2 The use of smilies may reveal a critical aspect of Ganis’work, as it may well be considered as hinting atideological propaganda. It is no accident that severalleft-wing political analysts identify these symbols with thefundamentalist and “fascist” aspects of Americanideology.
·.
Stella Sevastopoulou writes
about the enigmatic,
mysterious puzzles of
Mantalina Psoma’s women
Ma
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Mantalina Psoma,
The Quest 19
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Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching
Is painting passé, or a totally fresh break
from conceptual confusion, media
manipulation and arty shock tactics?
At Wannajob (44 Konstantinopoleos),
near the happening ‘Gazi strip’ of
Athens, the Rebecca Camhi Gallery
has organized a show of Mantalina
Psoma’s latest work, which presents
contemporary painting’s tempting
proposition. The artist’s probing of
the modern human condition,
rendered via impeccably detailed
brushwork, invites all to re-assess this
traditional medium’s alluring illusion
of reality.
Psoma’s women might be physically
situated in a tidy interior, or in an
idyllic forest, but their eyes are in a
trance, not staring at the viewer, but
beyond him/her - they seem to be in
the process of mentally escaping
their environment, to somewhere far,
far away. Symbols of the modern
individual’s inability to attain
satisfaction (partly due to the many
opposing value systems that society
has crammed into our heads),
Psoma’s characters personify the
numbness of today’s human nature.
These are individuals whose mode of
reaction to their dissatisfaction with
their environment, is to day-dream.
With their arms by their side, without
tension or anger, and without real
grief, they stare at something else –
their lost dream maybe, another life,
or a terrible secret. The artist’s brush
has attempted to decode the
contemporary human psyche, to
outline perhaps its weariness born
from an eternal strife between
opposing ideals - eg nature and
artifice, good and evil – ongoing
archaic battles that have worn us out.
For Leonardo, the body expressed
the intention of the soul in his
painting: “A good painter has two
chief objects to paint, man and the
intention of his soul; the former is
easy, the latter hard, because he has
to represent it by the attitudes and
movements of his limbs.” Psoma’s
figures deliberately don’t seem to
express their mind’s operations via
their body language. Mind and body
seem separate. Their eyes are full of
thought, but their bodies are without
expression – one searches for
gestures which might hint at their
mental predicament, but to no avail.
Uncomfortably numb, her figures are
isolated, enigmatic, mysterious
puzzles.
The large canvas Through the Forest
(150x270cm), presents us with a
young woman whose violet skirt and
top contrast effectively with the
green foliage around her. She has a
full head of flowing hair and a pale,
oval face with delicate features –
similar to that of Botticelli’s divine
beauty in The Birth of Venus. And
like that renaissance master’s Venus,
she appears to be lonely. The natural
environment of Psoma’s ethereal
beauty is not enough to appease her
mind – and the black trunks of the
trees behind her, seem to encroach
her in a threatening manner.
Similarly, the man-made
environment of the home also has a
claustrophobic feel to it, in the work
Silent Night I. Here, a character
whose features remind one of a well-
known actress, stares out of the
picture, expressing again the
uncertainty of her seemingly
comfortable surroundings.
The children’s portraits that one
encounters in the show, are a
different chapter altogether. “There’s
something doll-like about my
children, one wonders if they are real
or not”, explains the artist. And
indeed, not only does Psoma explore
the opposites of nature and artifice
here, but also of good and evil,
innocence and experience – these
are children that look like they are
hiding some terrible mischief.
Furthermore, some of them don’t
look all that young either. As is the
case with many children, they
sometimes seem to be adults in
miniature clothes, “the little people”
as Robin Williams comically puts it, or
“Age masquerading as juvenility” and
“Little Father time”, as Thomas Hardy
has described it in Jude the Obscure.
These wolves in sheep’s clothing
have a spooky air about them.
Mantalina Psoma, Silent Night II, 2006
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Psoma’s painting technique consists
of neat and precise brushwork
creating the illusion of reality, giving
way to some more expressive dabs of
colour and line only rarely, in order to
convey the movement of leaves in
the wind or the diffused light
radiating through a curtained
window, for example. It is a
painstaking process that involves
many hours in front of the easel – the
large work Through the Forest took
over two months to be completed for
example. The artist composes her
theme first by creating a collage from
existing material – personal
photographs or magazine cutouts,
stills from films etc, which she then
assembles via Photoshop. She then
translates this ‘processed reality’ into
the medium of paint on canvas. The
preparatory work therefore is totally
contemporary, while the painting
technique of the final work, harks
back to a ‘pre-conceptual’, ‘pre-
expressionist’ ‘pre-modernist’ age,
while Psoma’s women could even be
a tad Pre-Raphaelite. Psoma admits
that she admires the work of the
Renaissance artists, as well as the
work of Lucas Cranach and Hans
Holbein in particular, plus the ‘mood’
of Edward Hopper: “His interest in
light and shadow, the way light falls
on an object intrigues me. He wasn’t
so interested in painting people, but
rather in painting an atmosphere”,
explains Psoma. Certain dusky greens
and grays to be found on Psoma’s
canvases, are reminiscent of Hopper’s
work. Furthermore, one could
ascertain that Psoma’s colours are
not ‘Greek’, and probably reflect on
the artist’s contact with Northern
European climates (her studies in
Berlin).
“Back in 1985, when I went to study
at the Berlin School of Fine Arts,
realism was considered rather
anachronistic. There was the echo of
Neo Expressionism in the air and the
closest thing to representational
painting was that of Gerhard Richter.
There was also a turn towards
abstract art and many at the school
were painting like Cy Twombly”,
explains Psoma. It was against this
backdrop, that she timidly oscillated
between abstraction and
expressionism, feeling however that
“neither expressed me. I wanted
something that would combine the
mind and soul, and for me, that was
realism”. At the age of 23, when she
finished the school, she felt she didn’t
have the maturity to support a turn
towards realism in an art world that
was so opposed to it. “I was always
afraid to present this side of me to
the public, and to say ‘this is what I
am’. But I realized that the only way
to express oneself, is by being true to
oneself. I always wanted to draw and
paint, from a little girl.” So she
decides to go where not many a
contemporary artist dared to –
although one could consider the
New Realists’ exploration of painting
as an influence. However Psoma’s
work is not a raw, clinical, Lucian
Freudian psychoanalysis, but a softer,
more poetic, even cinematographic
one. The silver-screen interests her –
especially the films of Kieslowski and
Tarkovsky, while Von Trier’s heroines
might also be relevant here.
“After the 20th century, where
everything has been done to the
form in art, it’s time to return to the
subject, and to quality”, claims
Psoma, who’s sick and tired of going
to exhibitions and leaving ‘empty’.
Certainly, the visual impact of an
immaculate painting is unbeatable,
and the re-exploration of this
medium – imbuing it with
contemporary thought – is like a
welcome home-start.
Mantalina Psoma’s exhibition at the gallery
Rebecca M. Camhi (44,Konstantinoupoleos
str., Gazi, tel.: 694 7325711,
www.rebeccacamhi.com), is held from 05th
October until 10th November.
Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching
·.
For eclecticism, the act of
collection and
recontextualisation discuss
Katerina Nikou and Em-Kei
Vis
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∂m-Kei lives on Patission Avenue, just
past Galatsiou Street opposite the old
Fix ice factory. The site is a park now;
the factory itself, a fine example of
industrial architecture, was torn down
in 2000, just after the big earthquake.
Only the family house is left, though
there are complications with the
inheritance; maybe that’s why it’s
empty. The park reveals a lack of
architectural planning, but is very
much at one with bustling,
multicultural Kypseli, on whose
fringes it lies.
The view of the park from Em-Kei’s
flat embraces the disorder of the city;
the same irregularity and eclecticism
one finds in her apartment. Em-Kei is
an artist, but a graphic artist, too, and
the traces of her work are everywhere.
Wherever I look in the flat, I see
magazines, books on the sofas and
tables, CDs and all sorts of stuff:
Japonese, robots, dolls in all shapes
and sizes and_of course, artworks, lots
of them; as though the entire space
were a coherently chaotic studio.
Amidst the dolls, the old works, the
books and CDs, we’ve balanced some
cherry tomatoes, cheese and wine on
a stool. There really is no doubting
that lady artists are more hospitable
than their male counterparts.
Her work, too, displays traces of this
continual reference to the act of
collecting. Indeed, recontextualization
is one of her staples. The Para-site
project is all about placing objects
with specific typological features in
spaces where they don’t belong; she’s
interested in giving them a dimension
other than the one we have
associated them with. Which is how
she came to place a plaster-cast of an
egg-box in the Athens Archaeological
Museum, where it could easily be
taken at first glance for a museum
piece. No one knows what happened:
if and when the Museum staff found
it, and how long it elicited visitors’
admiration as an exhibit. Nor was she
interested in finding out. She has
made similar interventions in public
places in London, too, handing out
flyers printed with true stories
borrowed from newspapers.
We talk about artists who have
managed to acquire a specific style
after a period of searching, with the
result that a first reading of their work
references them directly, but can’t
decide whether this was always
beneficial or a mannerism of sorts. For
her part, Em-Kei would like her every
work to differ from what came before
and to call something new to mind.
She hasn’t signed up with a specific
gallery for the time being; it’s not
something she considers particularly
important. What she wants is to be
free of commercial or other
limitations when she creates.
Of course, there are artists who have
become more commercial, though in
each case everything always depends
Visits
Em-Kei, Cabinet (detail), 2006
44
Visits
on the specific circumstances. For
better or for worse, the lack of
institutions in Athens means it is the
galleries that support contemporary
art and serve as a core source of
information on current trends. The
galleries also shape the trends, she
says, quoting the resurgence of
painting and drawing as an example.
She took part in the All that remains is
future show in Patras with two works.
We agree that most of the works in
the exhibition were clearly
aestheticized objects rather than
actions of relational environments,
and that this might reveal a new
preference for a third dimension on
the artists’ part. Em-Kei uses symbols
and ready mades to comment on the
order of things and our social
perceptions of them. In Patras, one of
her works stood in the forecourt, the
other_an installation_in a
display/book case inside the school.
As Em-Kei sees it, schools with a
tradition behind them like the
Arsakeion bestow a social prestige
and power on their old boys and girls
which automatically helps them make
a more dynamic entrance into the
social whole. The work in the school
yard depicts a symbol she herself
constructed dominated by a pair of
dividers and a pencil; it could easily be
the trade mark of some Masonic
group. It was to have been the base
for a bust of a featureless person
wearing a hip hop hood (see issue 5
of ·). Unfortunately, the bust couldn’t
be put in place for technical reasons,
which left the base standing alone
like a votive column.
The display/book case inside the
school she filled with various trophies
along with wigs, clown accessories
and Mediaeval weaponry. Once
again, the collection of objects and
their recontextualization lay at the
heart of her works, which call to mind
the cabinets of curiosities of old. As
she says herself, there is a sense of
death about her works: the trophies
are actually a moment’s
remembrance of peoples’ lives which
they aim to prolong beyond death.
Of course, the logic of collecting is
itself a veiled reminder of death. I say
that the speed and immediacy with
which information can be conveyed
in our society makes it impossible for
us to process and filter it. Em-Kei
agrees: as she sees it, our lives today
are caught between fiction and
reality, and we don’t have the time to
separate what exists from what
doesn’t. That’s one of the strands in
her work, this changing ready made
objects into something different from
what they are.
My gaze alights on the plate with the
triangular pieces of cheese and it
crosses my mind that nibbles like
these are themselves a form of
collection, an edible cabinet of
curiosities. ·.