In A Distant Mirror (1978), historian Barbara Tuchman observes that we live in “an age of collapsing assumptions.” Even in our brief exchanges, we can see how right she was! We are already reflecting afresh on property, value, and civilization. Yet this is just the beginning of the implications of art like Tino Sehgal’s and of our conversation here.
In the previous round of discussion, one of the questions that arose was, essentially, Can art affect life? What happens if we turn that question on its head and ask: How can and will the current conditions of life affect art? From your last set of comments, I’ve extracted a few principles that suggest how we might shift the way we think about life on Earth—but these ideas might also bear on art:
The idea of the person is resituated. About This Progress, Simran writes, “We participate; we shape the performance—and the performance shapes us. This interconnectedness and interdependency illuminate the value of relationships.” As we adopt this perspective, we re-envision what it means to human and move away from the American idea of possessive individualism. The boundaries of the individual soften and we come to sense that in some ways there is no “other.”
Forging an ethics of connection. Juliet suggests that “Seghal’s art invites people to step out of a grasping, self-interested mode into an other-regarding connection. When it works, this approach forges relationships, among humans and with the earth.” We are then forced to rethink ethics. The earth is not a place from which to take as much as we can and dispose of our wastes, toxic and otherwise. It is our home—a place where we can co-create with the living processes that surround us.
Facing up to (un)fairness. Martha points out that “the freedom of movement enjoyed by Americans is not directly equivalent to Simran’s point about our disproportionate ecological footprint, yet both involve a connection between individual privilege and the umbrella of state power.” In the decades since World War II, we have mainly avoided issues of fairness by the false promise that, through growth, a rising tide will lift all ships. Footprint analysis, though not without its problems, shows us that even if the growth model had been true, there is no more room for growth in material consumption because we have exceeded our ecological limits.
With these tenets in mind, I wonder how we might reimagine art for these times. Sehgal presents one model that is more or less in line with the above, but are there others that exemplify values like an interconnected personhood, greater ties to the natural world, and an awareness of the inequalities in the world? To move beyond the world of high art, how might the planetary crisis affect mass-entertainment industries—movies, TV, music, books, and so on? How will increased awareness of our plight affect not only the content of cultural expression—TV network “green weeks” and so on—but also the form?
I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at predicting the future, so I don’t know about my qualifications to take up Peter’s mission of trying to reimagine artistic practice, even in its immediate prospects. And regarding the question of how life affects art—one could turn that around and ask in what fashion, if any, does it not?
Perhaps the most important change will be that more of us create art. This is already happening through the explosion of creativity that new technologies have facilitated. From YouTube videos to blogging to GarageBand recordings, individuals who are not “artists” are creating and making art and sharing it with others. They may not be making money from it, and they are not full-time artists, but they are exercising their creative faculties. It’s fantastic, not because all the work that is produced is great (it is not), but because it allows people to satisfy deep human urges to create that have been stymied by our capitalist economy.
It’s hard to talk about art you can’t see created by a person you don’t know.
As of yet, I have not seen Tino Sehgal’s exhibition in person. It tests and humbles me to think of how to interpret from afar the situations he fabricates from breath and bone. I struggle to illuminate an exhibition that leaves so little trace. Simultaneously, I recognize that this is the challenge of all storytellers (artists included) trying to make sense of a world outside of their immediate surroundings—and that this is a challenge I face regularly as an environmental writer and activist.