visible intruder

thomas hirschhorn's gramsci monument

975 tinton avenue

bronx, new york.

july 1, 2013 - september 15, 2013

swiss artist thomas hirschhorn is an international star, whose work has been shown in the venice biennale 2011, the current icp triennial, and is also part of permanent collections of moma and the tate modern in london.

i happen to like some of his work, probably because of the political content. for example, the disturbing but penetrating video, touching reality, 2012 (refer to my icp triennial post) and his "fill a room with shit" installations, such as concordia, concordia at chelsea's gladstone gallery last year. i like his art because it displays a particular interest in the political implications of consumption (material and immaterial) and the conditions which produce and surround them. 

so i consider myself a semi-fan. and since i read some of marxist theory for my thesis research, i had to visit the artist's new project, gramsci monument, dedicated to the 20th century italian thinker. this is the last of hirschhorn's monuments after the spinoza monument, 1999, deleuze monument, 2000, and bataille monument, 2002. 

gramsci monument is located on the grounds of forest houses, a public housing area in the east bronx near 163rd street. in writing and his opening day speech, the artist repeatedly emphasizes that he did not choose the location, but the community chose him. he deliberately sought a non-central location (as opposed to manhattan's highline, etc), but he attributes the specificity of the forest houses to an invitation by erik farmer, president of the forest houses tenants. hirschhorn recalled that, during their early meetings, he told farmer, he is "not interested in making art for the community, but with the community." the artist has given great attention to the aspect of collaboration--he does not shy away from mentioning farmer's name multiple times, giving credit to other members of the community. 

and the efforts show: from the appearance of the construction (graffiti tags and murals by locals decorate the wooden facades, hand-written signs here and there overflow with the appearance of homemade-ness..) to the selection of activities (wednesdays are poetry readings, thursdays are fieldtrip days, sundays open mic..), i get the sense that the residents are co-creators of this project. they also print a daily newspaper for the community--profiles of residents, local news, copy-and-paste blurbs on gramsci, hirschhorn's interviews on the monument--and air a radio station run by locals. they play the music they want, have on-air interviews/conversations with residents on various topics. during times when there are no events scheduled, the radio plays through the speakers on stage. its seating area and adjacent "gramsci bar" provide hang out spots.

i went on two consecutive days: monday the 1st, the opening day, and tuesday the 2nd. the experiences of each were very different. thank god i went on both.

my first visit made me angry. i liked the idea of a "living" monument created with the local residents. it is not a stand-alone object that purports to represent gramsci or his work, but a 2.5-month long meditation of his ideas on the level of practice. gramsci believed that education should be close to life--some of the monument's various events, such as the lectures by marcus steinweg and seminars led by a rotating roster of scholars, are obviously pedagogical, but other activities, such as tuesdays' "running events," open mics, and radio blend "life" and "education" seamlessly together.

but because it was opening day, there were a lot of non-resident visitors. i had unpleasant flashbacks to my time in venice: members of the elite art circles reuniting in foreign territory. or rather, foreigners intruding upon a life and community already present. 

the bare-minimum construction of the "temporary pavilion" added to this ambience: the raw wood boards bear no alterations besides murals and graffiti, sofas are covered in brown tape, white plastic lawn chairs labeled "gramsci monument" litter the stage area. 

what got me offended was this "ghetto" mock "pool" with a sad projection of water spewing into a small square lined with blue plastic. are children supposed to swim in this thing? it was worse than sprinklers in public parks or playgrounds--surely they had funds to make a basic fountain or other mechanism that emits water. was the messy taping and cheap blue plastic so necessary?

adding to the ethically questionable nature of the architectural aesthetic was of course the presence of the visitors who clearly lead lives very different from the residents who built the monument "from bottom to top" (a recurring phrase in the monument's daily newspaper and other writings around the project). remember that these are the PROJECTS in the east bronx, housing members of a struggling but also tightly knit community (i, at least, got the impression that the families there all knew each other) and not necessarily a destination (there are no major shopping malls nearby for example, a culinary gem, or landmark architecture. this is a fairly residential neighborhood). this is not to say that some of the "white folks" present are not struggling to get by, but being able to call oneself a "lover" and knower of art is a privilege. not many have the opportunity to learn why picasso's paintings are considered "high" art or the leisurely time to visit a museum with an entrance fee, or travel out of their way (unless they live nearby) to see some artist's project on a monday afternoon. would these two crowds--art world "foreigners" and residents--bump shoulders otherwise? probably not. and i got the sense that they were not just "bumping shoulders" but that the fairly sizable gathering of their own kind turned the scene into a sort of cool and fun "fieldtrip" with friends (and, perhaps, enemies, but familiar ones) and the locals simply provided the labor to create that opportunity. maybe i'm committing my own racial profiling, but i thought i saw the same faces i've seen at other show openings and even venice. in one case, i had met the guy (an editor at frieze?) at my mfa program when a professor invited him to speak to the class.

 the very first 5pm "philosophy lecture" by steinweg annoyed me even further. the questions "who is he speaking to? who is this for?" ceaselessly popped into my head. he made references to gilles deleuze, jacques lacan, plato and the classical tradition, marguerite duras… under the assumption that the audience understood them. although there was a fair sprinkling of residents near the stage prior to the lecture, they disappeared altogether once he began speaking into the microphone. it didn't help that his manner of speaking was very boring and that he had an accent. i found myself falling asleep at the front row. would non-insiders be willing to expend so much energy straining to decipher his jargon?

it was as if the locals labored to build the monument, but ultimately for the enjoyment of a select few who were not part of their community. build the stage, but the show is not for them.

the insider-ness of the opening day, i admit, is inevitable, since hirschhorn is a superstar and all. of course he's going to draw a crowd of friends and fans.

and, although i complain about the elitism of art a great deal, i am guilty as a semi-member. i am not "friends" with cindy sherman or larry gagosian, but i, too, enjoy the privilege of visiting the forest houses on a monday afternoon "for the sake of art," as i also had the leisurely time and money to visit venice, not on a travel grant for a journalistic assignment. as boring as his lecture was, i understood and recognized the steinweg's jargon and references--possible as the result of a privileged education and time to read all those books.

when i returned the next day, i got my reality check: i was the foreign intruder, "objective" ethnographer. 

let's say that on the first day, people took the time out of their busy schedules to commemorate the monument's opening in the late afternoon. but people have lives and real jobs (apparently except me). on the following day, i was the only non-resident there, aside from the artist and his crew and maybe one or two friends of the artist's people. when i arrived around 3:30pm, i saw a group of young men gathered outside the radio studio, watching a friend speak to the dj and suggesting songs to play. mothers were sitting in the plastic chairs, telling their children to be careful. girls were gossiping about people at school and showing each other pictures they took of themselves with their cellphones. one boy somehow got a sock stuck on a basketball hoop and an older girl had to rescue it with the end of a broom.

my presence felt inappropriate there. even as thoughts materialized in my head, i hesitated to pull out my notepad or camera. i did not receive many strange looks because the residents had probably been warned about visitors, and had already experienced the flood of foreigners invading their grounds the previous day. but i still felt self-conscious--there is no such thing as being an invisible observer. i am as present and a participant as much as anyone else there.

the intimate nature of tuesday's ambience and the constant presence of the artist (he has temporarily moved to the neighborhood for duration of the project) changed my mind. that day's "running event" was a showcase by "the forest houses steppers," a dozen or so kids dressed in red t-shirts and red bandanas around their heads. they were notified at the last minute about their performance (as i overheard, some were only told the previous day) so they frequently stopped in their steps (HA!) in confused deliberation as to the next move. but the audience members, all familiar to the performers (except me), were supportive and cheered them on. after a while, the kids gave up trying to stick to their choreography and formed a circle to have freestyle solo dances. as they chanted, "go tanny, go tanny, go tanny," a skinny boy twisted his shoulders and skipped his feet rapidly to the beat, spun around and landed in a split, followed by others' enthusiastic cheers. another one stepped up, and then another. i cracked a nostalgic smile: it brought me back to my high school days when i gave awkward performances of the harlem shake while my friends chanted the same "go candy, go candy" and showered me with the same cheers ("a" for effort? i can only do a grotesque parody of the shake).

watching this brief performance, i felt the love and warmth of a close community. the monument did provide a space for them to gather, bond, and share; it was not "just" an outsider artsy fartsy white guy's "profound" project. and even if it was, he seemed almost a part of that community as well. i saw him greeting everyone there like long neighbors. even as he flipped through odd pieces of wrinkled paper labeled "to do" in thick marker, he turned to ask a resident about how her son is doing or waved at a kid running between the chairs. i have more respect for this artist. good thing i did not judge based solely on the opening day.

i plan to visit the monument a few more times over the course of its run. i do not have a clear idea yet of how specifically gramsci's ideas are being realized there, its impact on the residents, or what this means for art. will this create a bridge between two worlds? will it be an "enlightening" pedagogical device for "non-art" locals? for example, i still hold mixed feelings about the philosophy lectures. 

but perhaps i will find out over the next few months. i will post updates on the gramsci monument in between those on other shows.