David Teh on 5 Mar 2001 17:08:27 -0000 |
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<nettime> work works in nyc |
work works in NYC review for <nettime> by david teh Two exhibitions currently showing in MoMA's New York complex demonstrate the peculiar status of "work" in New Economic America. They stand at opposite ends of the faded spectrum of labour discourse. The installation ('Person Remunerated for a Period of 360 Consecutive Hours') and video-catalogue of works by Mexico- based artist Santiago Sierra, upstairs at PS1 in Long Island City, are a testament to the severe marginalization of labour concerns in public discourse today. Meanwhile "Workspheres", at MoMA-proper, is a blithe and irredeemable servant of this very marginalization. In an era when so few real-world spaces remain open for commentary or critique of the organization of labour under late capitalism, and where workforces are so splintered by the legal taxonomy of corporate justice, at PS1 issues a cry from the sidelines. For many years, Sierra (b.1966) has staged happenings in which workers – often young, unemployed men from underprivileged communities in Latin America – are hired for a pittance to perform simple or repetitive tasks. The amount of ‘remuneration’ is always disclosed, the work recorded on video. Sitting in a box, holding up a gallery wall, even riding around in a bus, the subjects’ participation documents, with a formal directness seldom encountered in contemporary art, the paltry exchange value of work in the labour diasporas of the developing world. Sierra’s works, minuets in political minimalism, resound with a clarity and a bluntness that we have come to associate with certain forms of radical protest. Informed more by the tradition of Arte Povera than by Courbet, there is nothing classical or timeless, no nostalgic stoicism, to these studies. The labour depicted is transient, anonymous, dispensable. It is clearly subject to the arbitrary temporality of scheduled exploitation. These are works about work, in work – real-time sculptures, as it were, fashioned in the medium of labour. Yet despite their brutal eloquence and rigorous formal regimen, they are hardly moving as ‘art’; their formal simplicity is coupled with a conceptual economy that precludes any deep aesthetic experience. Any such depth would detract from the urgency and primacy of the message. But it is indeed worrying that this bluntness, and the spaces of art themselves, need to be thus employed; that the inequalities being depicted are so poorly exposed in the media-sphere that it should be necessary to enlist rarefied gallery-art in the cause. It is necessary, because out in the real world the image of labour has been so thoroughly twisted, spun and airbrushed as to be completely unrecognizable, even to the educated ‘knowledge-worker’ as he clamours to market, CV attached, no longer seeking employment so much as shopping (on-line) for a job. And nowhere is this image more airbrushed than at MoMA’s Manhattan headquarters, where the pallid "Workspheres" exhibition has been installed. Here is work tarted up to look like Hollywood Future-Exploration - labour in drag. According to its free pamphlet, this exhibition "presumes that while our work determines our lives, in the future our lives will be able to shape the way that we work." This is a mighty and loose presumption indeed, and illuminates the thin line separating one sort of presumption from another, less mindful sort. We’ve become roundly desensitized to this confused IT-ological cacophany - the nefarious union between lifestyle porn and technology fetishism - spread thickly as it is in service of daily commerce. We are less accustomed, perhaps, to hearing it from the esteemed guardians of (official) modern art. With this dreadfully disappointing show, reminiscent of the Guggenheim’s gleaming Motorcycle Showroom (1998), MoMA invites some overdue scrutiny of its charter and raison d’etre. It would be a shame to have to demand of an institution which, like this one, had a proud record of enshrining design excellence in the temple of fine art, that it revert to hanging oil paintings alone. But we will if this is the sort of flaccid, mercantile showcase they are going to serve up every time there’s a lull in the global parade of modernist Masters. The pamphlet, complete with simulated coffee-stain (powered by Starbucks?) begins with the chief Fanciful Premise of this show – "nomadic work" – the gullible and embarrassingly credulous assumption that thanks to technology and decentralization, work is becoming heroically individualized, and therefore miraculously liberated from the tyrannies of workaday corporate environments, their values, architectures and accoutrements. This is a flimsy basis for an exhibition supposedly devoted to labour, and the pamphlet utterly fails to conceal what the show is – a Great Pornographic Exhibition of Techno-Fetishism – composed of six 5-minute, walk-thru advertorials designed (to the more paranoid mind) chiefly to distract the new professionalized proletariat from its own alienation. The document reads and looks far more like a catalogue for The Sharper Image than a ‘museum catalogue’. If one could possibly overlook the scores of casual product placements (bic, Apple, FedEx), endorsements and registered trademarks that punctuate its pages, then the congenial sterility of its language should be convincing enough – this in its rhapsody to the wonders of worker-mobility: "A portable computer integrated with a cellular phone and operated from a seat on a train to Boston, for instance, is enough to generate an efficient worksphere. With a little help from design – such as a foldable handkerchief screen and keyboard – this setup can become as efficient as an office desk in New York, and may even be more conducive to inspiration." As if the inspiration were not obvious enough, of a Communicating Scarf (care of France Telecom), complete with phone, keyboard and screen; of a chair that changes colour to match the user’s trousers; and how better to assert control over your work-hours than with the ingenious Bed-in-Business (powered by IBM), with screens built into its ‘adjustable foot’ and (I shit you not) "loudspeakers embedded" in the pillows. This last idiotic fixture recalls a long lineage of hare-brained futurism, Utopias all but forgotten, and bad Irish jokes about things like Underwater Alarmclocks. And it eloquently proclaims, moreover, MoMA’s atrocious dereliction of curatorial integrity in the pursuit of corporate patronage. Perhaps the only gesture in Workspheres worth the MoMA admission price were the "h!bye nomadic worksphere seeds", a piece of conspicuously un-American irony from Spanish designer Marti Guixe. These were a variety of ‘edible and non-edible’ pills, each a tongue-in-cheek prod at the jingoisms of post-geographical convenience: "Feel Comfortable Everywhere" was a portable arsenal of spices, amulets against generic cuisine, sorted by continent. (Bearing only the most incidental relevance to ‘work’, these would have been more resonant among the paperbacks and vending machines of airport terminals, or better still issued by US Customs on arrival.) I would not wish to detract from the ingenuity or accomplishments of any of the featured designers. The problems with this exhibition are institutional, curatorial, directorial – in a word, corporate. Under the pretext of a focus on work, this was a paltry buffet of leftovers from the future, a labour-less, Utopian feast of sign-capital. What little intellectual work went into the arrangement of this pathetic show was in vain. At least the fruitless labour served up by Sierra was tabled knowingly. Santiago Sierra, Person Remunerated for a Period of 360 Consecutive Hours @ PS1, Long Island City, Sept. 17 – Nov. 2001 http://www.ps1.org/cut/press/sierra.html Workspheres (curated by Paola Antonelli) @ the Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2nd floor galleries Feb. 8 – Apr. 22, 2001 http://www.moma.org/docs/exhibitions/current/ dteh@arthist.usyd.edu.au ------------------------------------------------- This mail sent through IMP: admin.arts.usyd.edu.au # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net