THE REENCHANTMENT OF ART

(El reencantamiento del arte)

Suzi Gablik

Thames and Hudson

1992
ÍNDICE DE CONTENIDOS
 THE
EEN CHAN'
OF ART
 THr \

RnTNCHANTMENT
oF Anr

Suzi Gablik

Thames and Hudson

Copyright O 1991 by Suzi Gablik
First published in the United States in 1991 by Thames and
Hudson Inc., 500 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York
10110
First published in Grear Brirain in l99l by Thamcs and
Hudson Ltd, London
First paperback edition 1992
Any copy of this book issued as a papcrback is sold subjecr
to the condition that it shall nor by way of rrade or other-
wise be lent, resold, hired out or otherwisc circulated lvith-
out the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published and without a
similar condition including these words be ing imposed on a
subsequent purchaser.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduccd or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or
any other information storage and retrieval system, without
prior permission in writing from thc publisher.
Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number 90-71571
Designed by Janet Doyle
Printed in the United States of An¡crica
For my teacher Joan Halifax,
and my friend Lorita Roberts
 CH n1
INrnooucrroN
Changing Paradigms, Breaking the Cultural Trance

We cannot bear connection. That is our mal-

ady.We must break atuay, and be isolate.'W e
call that being freed, being indiuidual. Beyond
a certdin point, which we haue reached, it is
suicide.
D. H. Lautrence

It is not impractical to consider seriously

changing the rules of the game u.,hen the game
is clearly killing you.
M. Scott Peck

Thi, book is a sustained meditation on how we

might restortto-lur culture its sense of aliveness, possibility
and magic. It is not an academic, scholarly work, but has a
distincdy visionary bias grounded in what one of my col-
Ieagues, the ecofeminist writer Gloria Fenam Orenstein, calls
" th methódoló gy - of tFá -inarvéIóuT;-iñAiflñá51¿ syn-
e
chronistic processes by which one attracts, as if by magne-
tism, the next piece of vital information. Most of what is
 written here is a record of my own psychic journey and reflects
the changes in my thinking as it has emerged from the collec-
tive beliefs and ópinions rhat are centrally entrenched in our
society. Since the issues discussed are deeply personal as well
as aesthetic and social, the book does notii c-omfortablv into
any.of the categories that are normally used to classiiy art
books. It amemprs ro engage the wholá being-not jusi the
intellect but_the emotional, psychological, ethical and spiri-
tual parts of us as well. Although it ihallengesrnrny oiou.
axiomatic assumptions abour arr, the book will, I hope, be
relevant for people in other disciplines who are conóerned
about the future of our planet. I see it as a collective project,
giving voice to what many people already believe and ieel;
ideas-are expressed and woven together that are u.ry
-u.É
"in the air," seeking thcir proper articulation in the com-
mun¡ty. I
\, The discussions of art are focused around one
,'l essential theme: w-ha_t__d,oes it mean to be a ,.successful"
.J/ artist
,\ y91klry ,1 itr.e _woilá todg/l Much of *t foLtffii dJ;;.;
"t that is not usu-
to_ con-sidering this question. It is something
ally asked, since it immediately implicates us in a value analysis
of our whole culture. The idea of self-di¡ected professional-
ism .has conditioned, if not totally determined, our way of
thinking about art, ro the poinr where we have become
incredibly addicted ro certain kinds of experience at rhe
expense of others, such as community, (or exámple, or ritual.
We live in a culture that has little capacity or appreciation
- fq¡,¡lqlrlglSLltu¡r_1. Not only does the particúlar wáy of
life for which we have been programmed laik any cosmió, or
tJ1¡fner¡gna-J aiTsnsion,
lut its undcrlying principles-of manic
pfedu_c-Llon and consumprion, maximum energy flow, mind-
l_ess-w¿ste and greed,. a-re nflw rhreatening the entire-e,cosys-
temin.-which we live.
The prevailing atritude of mind of a culture, its
world. view or mind-set, is commonly called a paradigm. A
parádigm is very powerful in rhe life of a society, since it
influences the way we think, how problems ur. so[r.d, *hrt
goals_we pursue and what we value. The socially dominant
paradigm is seldom, if ever, stated explicitly, but it uncon-
sciously defines reality for most people, whose view of the
world does not normally transcend the limits imposed by this
cultural conditioning. For this reason, it is important to come
to grips with our cultural model, in order to understand how
it affects the way we think and determines what we want.
Many of the difficulties and conflicts we experience as per-
sonal in this regard are related to the framework of beliefs
and standards of behavior provided by our culture to serve
as guidelines for individual lives' §7e tend to pattern our-
selves and our world view after our culture, taking as self-
evident certain beliefs, values and behaviors; thus, if our model
of culture is faulty or disordered, then fue ourselves are dis-
ordered in precisely the same way. Since cultural condition-
ing strongly influences individual behavior- and -thought, to
begin to move toward e different framework o[ assumptions
th;t úoirld change. the basi: gf-g$-gPe',e!§SJs e-xqr-aqely
dif6óuli-, -
Is tlrere any way, then, not to let the dominant
paradigm in which we currently exist define who we are?
And on wlii¿h level, then, the personal or the cultural' can
the problem be resolved? This was the situation uncovered
by my last book, Has Modernism Failed?, but not really
resolved-a widely shared disenchantment over,the compu[-
sive an d oppressi uecon§ú mCrr§jic-fiá-m-á\Móiün"*trictr-wl¿o
our work, and from which, it would se-em,.there-is.no.escape.
My aim in this tiook is to go beyond that framework. As a
.ritu.., we seem to be approaching a certain awareness that
things must change, and not iust superficially, Rather, the
mosi basic assumpiions underlying modern society are in flux;
and, as these assumptions shiflr1hq rggd folS-ne*
ut-Bsaple. In arguing
whole world view of
an epoch, this book looks to the possibility that individuals
can ieject certain prevailing cultural attitudes and embrace
new myths. The question is -no-l-qnge-ú sy-dj!t- \ /g get here'
and wÉy? but, wÉere.rn *á páttiÚy;S'-r@'Fel-ive
.riáiiow-eá;;ñensitivity
in a soiiety that has drasticaLly to
moral ancl spiritual issues; the prgblgg-ly§ face is how to
deal with a belief structure that haslSl-ocked lboth psycholog-

t '- ¡ 'i)6[i t!''t i lli ¡ t' ¡( { hut

;
"Lr
 , * tl l'
).,.:\' ,:

"
-ical-and spj.!!!gl (¡,elq,pment. If there.is a new agenda, a
new vision now emerging within our society, how might one
help put it into practice? This book represents my own attempr
to look_at wh,at changes are necessary or desirable. how-we
might achieve them, and what the role of art and artists mighr
bd in accéléñtiñ-fthis process.
The new questions that are being raised are no
longer issues oflty_le gfqo4§11!,_,but issues of social and envi-
ronmental responsibility, and of multiculruralism, or "par-
allel" cultures, rather than a dominant monoculturalism. The
subiect ol ralismlis not really touched on in this
book, bu-t-iB ilbv lL¡-Upp"rd- ín h éinéri1y [u b-
s§iN-ela Art in a Multiiubural Aié-rica,
in-ñ6áli[are it*ñ tJti-it my focus to sqcial and-envi-
ronmental issues. ln January 1990, I participated in a one-
day invitational forum inlNtw Y6(\organized by the Rock-
efeller Foundation, for th-e](post-of discussing a possible
, _new fundi¡g progranr for lenvironméntal anrl socially con-
i -*.rl.-'R-..h,ñiát1"--¿iiiil?ólárlslinrhcarrsinf
ciiñed artJ Some of thc ouéltións Dut to us for consideration
orming
a new aesthetic?-Are arti¡ts b-caóming more engaged in work
that addresses social issues? Is there a new rclevance to this
art? Are artists actively invoking nature and issues of the
environment in new ways? What is the rclationship of their
work to environmental activism?
My own answers to the above questions, which
raise issues about the use of art in our world, are to be found
in the pages that follow. I suspect we are at tl.re end <.¡f some-
thing-:*h¡rper-r¡.as-culinized modern culture whose social
etstrav-e-§egp¡r-e- in qr-easi ngly unecological and nonsus-
- P-rcie
',_t¡ino!!§.
ln Personal Mythology, David Feinstein writes: "\We
need new myths; we necd thcrn urgently and dcsperately. . . .
lTimes are changing so fast that wc cannot afford to stay ser
lin our ways. \íe need to become exquisitely skilled engineers
of change in our rnythologics." If @9gl.esÍñ_et.iiB *".
inherently jsplatjo!§L aimed at disengágement and purity,
my sense is that what we will be sceing over the next few
decades is 7rt that is essentially rgqld_4ld_pUlp9§e.fuLjlg
that rejeclshhe_¡qyths_of neutrality and autonomy¡llhe sub-

4
 text of sociel responsibiliw is missing in our aesthetic models,
and the challenge of the future will be to transcend the dis-
connectedness and separation of the aesthetic from the social
thet existed within modernism.
Until the present time, remaining aloof has always
been a possible alternative, but it is quickly becoming a dan-
gerous approach to our current difficulties. Ivfodernism above
all exalted the complete autonomy of art, and the gesture of
severing bonds with society. This sovereign specialness and
apartness was symbolized by the romantic exile of the artist,
and was lived out in modes of rebellion, withdrawal and an-
tagonism. Talk about harmony, or fitting in, was anathema
to the alienated self. Artists from Gustave Flaubert to Francis
Bacon proclaimed their alienation from end antipárhy towdrd
society. "Life is so horrible," Flaubert wrote, "that one can
only bear it by avoiding it. And that can be done by living in
the world of ert." When he was seventeen, the painter Fran-
cis Bacon recounts, he remembers looking at a dog shit on
the pavement ancl suddenly realizing, "There it is-this is
what life is like." For Jean-Paul Sartre, the basic truth of the
h u m an s i tu a ti o n wa s i ts con ti ri§{n--a¡¡dri'§_ieÍsárhailiüoes
not belongji n9r l999sj:3ly. _-rolE_ggvs§. wrs
_ ::S_E!9.!ife
arbitrary, meaningless and u,ithout intrinii- value, SáñiE
adviséil-tlift wéñirslñllli¿iin t<i llle wññoüThóFe. TTAñgli¡h
critic Cyril Connolly wrote thesc lffiifiifcnmments: "lt is
closing time in the gardens of the West. From now on an
artist will be judged only by the resonance of his solitude and
the qualiry of his despair." Colin lVilson, tn Thc New Exis-
tentialism, refers to all this as the "futility hypothesis" of
life-the nothingness, estrangement and alienation that have
formed a considerable part of the picture we have of our-
selves.
Today, remainiry¡Ln-*flho. dan gerous impl ica-

Th e re e r-no--T-,r n ge -Tñ psychic and social

.in -which
, structurcs we live heve becóme toó piofoundly
.
an tiec-ologica I, unheatthy áñd tlestructi-ve^hhere is e need for
neú fornrs emphrsizing or¡r essential interconnectedness rather
than our .epairten"rr; forms evokrng tlüFe?[ffifb-etoñ§ilf
 to a larger whole ratl.rer than expressing the isolated, alien-
atcd self. The old assumptions about a nuclear ego separat-
ing itself off from everything clse are increasingly difñcult to
sustain in the face of our changed circumstrnccs. Exaltcd
individualism, for example, is hardly a creative response to
the needs of the planct at this tinre, which demand complex
and sensitive forms of interaction and linking. lndividualism,
freedom and self-expression are the great modernist buzz
words. To highly individualistic artists, trained to think in
this way, the idea that crc¡tive activity might be directed
toward answering a collectivc cultural nccd ratlrer than a
personal dcsirc for self-cxpression is likcly to appear irrelc-
vant, or even presumptuous. But I believe thcrc is a ncw,
evolving relationship between personal creativity and social
responsibility, as old modernist patterns of alienation and
confrontation give way to new ones of mutu¿¡lisn.r and thc
development of an active and practical dialoguc with thc
environment.
In her book Tbc Aquarian Conspiracy, Marilyn
Ferguson describes how many people, in spheres of life as
diverse as psychology, economics, politics, science and med-
icine, have been responding to the imperatives of the new
paradigm-!y etx-a-rnining the shared goals of our society and
-subjecting them to critical reappraisal-assum ptions about
who we are, what kind of universe we arc in, and what is
ultimately important to us. These people havc been finding
the will to break the patterns into which we havc crystallized,
realizing that if wc are to avoid destroying thc intcgrity of
,. thc ecosystenr, wc must redesign our funJ¡nlental priorities.
I The world has about forty years, according to a report issued
early in '1990 by the Worldwatch lnstitute, an indcpendent
i) \Washington-based, environmental research group, to achieve
an environmentally sustainable economy or descend into a
long economic and physical decline. Dr. Noel J. Brown,
director of the New York office of the United Nations Envi-
ronmental Program, talks about a ten-yc¿r window to turn
the tide against our environ¡lcntal abuse. But none of these
changes can take place, the Worldwatch report said, without
a transformation of individual priorities and valucs-mate--

to 1nr.
rialism simply cannot survive the transition to a sustainable
world. In this sense the new paradigm is de6nitely more than
just a conceptual ch?lánlel it requires that we personally
Ieave-6éh..^rnd -céftáin tliingi that have been central parts of
our individual and cultural self-de6nitions. I
This book, then, is about reframing.jThe need for
a reframing of iñ-e moderñ'-w¡'rld=view-¡nffi assumptions
in order to forecast the next step for society has been recog-
nized in many professional spheres; within the art world,
however, it has, as yet, no esteblished correlative. The neces-
sity for art to transform its goals and become accountable in
the planetary whole is incompatible with aesthetic attitudes
still prediceted on the late-modernist assumption that art has
no "useful" role to play in the-larger spher-e-of-th [gs. But '
the fact is that many a.iists noi"?ó-nóEiué iÉélrro-lest¡riiliil
different sense of pu.pos. ihan cÍr.eñt aelhitiitmodás
sanction, even though there is as yet no comprehensive the-
ory or framework to encompass what they are doing. I see
the task of this book as encouraging the emergence of a more
participatory, socially interactive framework for art, and
supporting the transition from the art-for-art's-sake assump-
tions of late modernism, which kept art as a specialized pur-
suit devoid of practical aims and goals.
The philosophies of the Cartesian era carried us
away from a sense of wholenesi§-loCusn§ oñly-n iñ-divid-
ual experien_ce. Ultimately this individualistic focus nar-
lowed our aesthetic perspectives as well, due to its
noninteractiüá nonrelational and nonoarticiDetorv orienta-
r¡ on. v oriiñÉts''t ¡i I i?E7.t a! an ár.i-i iñ-*h i.h-á pr rru.
individual freedom and expression. Under modernism this
often meant frccdom from community, freedom from obli-
gation to the rvorld and freedom from relatedness, The,
emerging new paradigm, r eÍlects,a yill _t9 2gIliQp !!9)s .c1:alb;.J
a central aspect of new paradigm thinking involves a signifi-
cant shift ftom objects to relationships. It is what the philos-
opher David Michael Levin describes as "the rooting of vision
in the ground of our needs; the need for openness, the need
for contact, the need for wholeness." 1ü/hereas the aesthetic
perspective oriented us to the making of obiects, the ecolog-
 ical perspective connects art to its integrative role in the larger
whole and the web of relationships in which art exists. A new
emphasis falls on community and the environment rarher rhan
on individual achie vement and accomplishmenr. The ecolog-
ical perspective does not replace the aestheric, but gives a
deeper account of what art is doing, reformulating
retormulat_lng lts
its mean-
ffem, in order to redress
.--the lack of concern, within the aesthetic model, for issues of
context or social responsibility.
defining art and culture in terms implied by
the new paradigm has been my most persistent interest for
the last few years. The ideas I shall be putting forward are
not necessarily all that new, or'especially original to me, but r
they do demand a qualitative change in the way we think
about art, and the prospect of these changes can be very
unsettling. Some artists have taken offense at what I write
because it doesn't appear to validate what they are doing;
but a paradigm shift can't occur without consequences to rhe
way we see and do things, and the uprooting of accustomed
habits of thinking often has uncomfortable personal conse-
quences. Condemnation of the ways that our society, as cur-
rently structured, fails to provide any conrext for a socially
or morally sensitive art is easier, and less likely to demand a
change of consciousness, than the more formidable effort of
trying to construct a new vision and put it into practice. It is
not part of our legacy to view ourselves as powerful agents
of change; however, we are being confronted with the neces-
sity of transforming our old modes of understanding if we
are to survive the. predigments-rhat are_ our .collective fate.
right now. To crea¿ today is.to creare with réiponsibilitv.l" ll
be"lieve it is bETéFtó--éál.ty ,if-it," Alb.rr'Cr.rs *.át. \
prophetically in 1960, "that the period of the revered master, \
of the artist with a camellia in his buttonhole, of the arm- |
chair genius isover." --)
The way to prepare the ground for a new para-
digm is to make changes in one's own life. Although my
examples here are far from exhaustive (particularly in the
second half of the book), they represent a small sample of
many people who are beginning to reject the subjective indi-
 vidualism of modernity and to work in an expanded context
that gives value to social and environmental factors, and who
are trying to express in their work some sense of service to
the whole. It would seem that a single philosophy no longer
accurately represents our culture, which is more accurately
revealed right now in the interplay of its opposing tenden-
cies; this means dancing through some of the most conspic-
uous contradictions in the present scene and considering
opposite points of view.
To start with, I shall argr¡e the case for botlr sides,
rwo radicrlly different pathwflys of thought, without pitting
one side against the other, in order to draw the whole pic-
ture. Even though my own identification is strongly with one
direction, I believe that the most fruitful developments are
likely to take place where these opposing lines of thought
meet. The arguments I shall put forward do not present
"positions" to be held so much as standpoints from which
one may challenge one's own beliefs; my aim is to enlist the
reader's participation in rethinking the structure of values he
or she has in place at this time, for they are the very essence
of both politics and art.
These ideas are not a fully realized framework,
but represent my own attempt to think about a new connec-
tive, participatory aestlretics, and to speak for a value-based
art that is able to transcend the modernist opposition beñveen
the aesthetic and the social. As with my previous book, there
are many quotes and no footnotes, in order to maintain the
flow of narrative and commentary, and in the interest of
greater liveliness and accessibility. The form of the text is not
linear but cyclical, progressing more like a spiral that circles
around and keeps ioining up with itself again at new levels

- my .way of seeing the world, and, whose_ id-ea_s-_l have

"embrolderedll wiih so unreservedly.-Jhe náéd fi;a''reén-l
-- chanting" our whole culture was firsi pointi,d out by cultural
I
historian Morris Berman in his ground-breaking book, Táe I
 Reenchantment of the Vorld. Particularly I also wish to sin-
gle out the books of David Michael Levin, professor of phi-
losophy at Northwestern Universiry in lllinois, whose writing
about the opening of vision and the cultivation of the listen-
ing self, as principles for a new and more feminine mode of
Being based on interdependencc and the intertwining of self
and other, has been deeply provocative. Etlually important
are the ground-brcaking books of Marion 'ü7oodman, a
Jungian analyst in private practice in Toronto, whose explo-
ration of the psychological impact of patriarchy and recon-
ceptualizing of the fcmininc principle have, along with the
work of other writers such as Riane L,isler, Carol Gilligan
and Catherine Keller, seriously influenced the course of this
book, and helped my own view of the creative poiential
inherent in partnership as a new modcl for the practice of art
to emerge. I have also found certain itleas of psychologists
David Feinstein and Stanley Krippner regarding the dynam-
ics of trans(orrning .personq.l ,rnd cultural myths extremely
useful to the process of reframing-o_1¡¡ _culture. Lastly, the
-need for a"'new cultural coding more resonant with thc
emerging ecological age has bcen urgently called for by eco-
philosophers Thomas Berry, Hcnryk Skt¡limowski and Joanna
Macy, a call this book tries to answer. All these references,
as welI as countless others, are to be found in the bibliogra-
phy at the end of the book. Thc inclusion of so many other
voices in the text weaves a much ricl.rer tapestry of ideas than
I could ever have produced alone.
'Wherever possiblc, I have also let artists speak
for thernselves, and I arn gratcful to the many friends who
shared their intentions and visions with me. I could have
included many more artists, but I havc tried to limit my choices
to specific and hopefully well-chosen examplcs, rather than
presenting an extensive compendiunr of all that is going on.
There is also less personal information about individual art]
ists and their career developn-rent than is_ cu.stomary in ourl
ego-conscious milieu; discussions of individuals tend to rnerge]
into the whole. Indeed, the focus of inquiry is not on individ-
uals, nor even on individual wt-,rks of art, so much as on thc
aesthetic assumptioris and thc critical theories that hold our

10
 view of art in place. Since my reality is not the same as any-
one else's, and since most of the examples have been chosen
out of my own experience rather than as an obiective observer
surveying thc 6eld, nobody else's choices are likely to be the
same as mine. I have chosen only material that was person-
ally resonant for me, that helped to build certain themes and
to provide the threads to tie the various issues together. There
are bound to be disagreements, but I hope the message and ..,
intention of the book will not be obscured by endless debatef,
about who has been included ancl who hasn't. «
The collective task of " reenchanting" our whole-l
culture is., as I see it, one of the crucial tasks ol our time, and [-,'
I should like to offer what I have written as one more contri- li
r.-
I hutlon to , collectrve Drorectl a vrslon that I Dercelve rs snareo I
Vmrny dhers. ú iitlññ,. to trace many of our pr.r..
dilemmas to what has been called the "disenchantment of the
world," then the solution, presumably, must somehow involve .
a process that breaks the spell and circle of routines built up
by modern culture and begins the transition into a different
stream of experience. "ls a rendezvous between world and
soul possible," asks Catherine Keller, "precisely where there
reigns a multiply institutionalized politic of disconnection?
In the Western mainstream, world has been scraped out of '
soul as surely as soul has been ground out of world." Dual-
istic metaphysics, Keller states, never completely captured the
life-and-death energies of soul. Reenchantment, as I under-
stand it, mcans stepping beyond the modern traditions of
mechanism, positivism, empiricism, rationalism, material-
ism, secularism and scientism-the whole objectifying con-
sciousness of the Enlightenment-in a way that allows for a
return of sor.rl. Reenchantment implies a release from the
affliction of nihilism, which David Michael Levin has called
-"our culture-s cance-ióf the spirit." It also refers to that change
ín the general iociál'nio-ó-d iowáid a new pragmatic idealism
and a more integrated value system that brings head and heart
together in an ethic of care, as part of the healing of the
world.
Overcoming the crisis of disenchantment has
become the greatest need of our culture at this time. As M.

11
 Scott Peck dcmonstrates in The Different
save our skins without saving our
Drum, we cannor
souls. Ve i"rr"ri.rl ,¡.
_mess_we_have made of ,hs
i_orl¿ *iirrá"ir"j.;glin, ,o,n.
rAilgl B.r.*
spi riqu d_ p.á...¿ i, g"ir.."ilr r.,n.
-k1¡slql
"argumenrs,,' h;we"Ai
-ish; ü;";;.f.i'?"'"orJi. a. ,
moment_and consider what you_r
concept of a ..successful,,
artist is. rrVlat_qualities a".r rt
rn the world? Is the image th"t"¡ur.i
rxiir;;;,;i:'ro"*,,
fo.,n, il
ñffi;á *. thrt
you can believc in? ts thá".e anythin;;ú;J;;'J;;:l
Iike to change? *ould

t2
 .,ffi*,
Tse Posr-AveNr-GnnoE
Endgame Art, Hover Culture, Rearguard Action

Itseems to me thdt the great question that oui

cubure faces now is whether it's goingto haue
the
.resilience
to redefine itself and take off
agarn.

Tbomas McEuilley

At times inactiuity is preferable to mindless

functioning.
Jenny Holzer

I will act as if what I do makes a difference.

'W
illiam James

T
I think the operative question today is, how use-
ful would a confrontational culture, an avant-garde, be now?"
The question was posed by deconstructive ártist and critic
Ronald Jones when I interviewed him in New York some
time ago. It tracks a dilemma experienced by many younger

13
 artists in the postmodern era, who find themselves in an
"cndgame" situation. As the great juggemaut of modernisnr,
ruled for a century by.the notion of pe rpetual-inrrova tiorr and
the crearion qf new Uyles, r¿áiliáiti ffaEfu-l_üósu-rcJhi
a té f u-l_q.! q !u rt-h e d e a
i

-er_ryi".rp;¡1'¡!_fr
óf participating coqfortably
ñ,i iLr thc old üscourse of "origi-
naliiy" rrnd chaÍgt' no krngcr sccms possiblc. Joñli.riins
thái the idea of an oppositional or tranigressive a"uant-ga.de-
a counterculturc that posscsscs thc dcftncss to rearrlnge thc
terms o[ our culture or inspire fundamcntal refornr--<ould
only exist now like a sideshow. The avant-garde, which uscd
to be the cultural "cutting edge," has becn dcfeated and ren-
dered inrpotcnt by its absorption into the mainstream. If arr
acturlly had thc capaciry ro crearc revolutionary change,
according to Jones, it would be cxcused from view; ar this
point, change only exists by pcrn.rission of the culrure indus-
try, which likes to creare the illusion that rhe culrure is rrans-
forming itself, but which has nor bcen engaged in turning
itself over in any fundanrental way for a long time. To act as
if it will, therefore, is countcrproductive, since the supply of
spare parts for this lumbering pageant of pcrpetual change
ran low long ago. Formcr strongholds of radicality can only
exist now as agents of the systcm, rorating in tinre "with the
econon¡ic tick-tock of the arr market and requiring rewi¡rd-
ing about every eighteen monrhs. "
Given the inevitability of cooptation, to try and
Íormulate another confrontational culture, according to Jones,
wo u lA sÑ;ñ p u rp,»¿i"ceD rf u rth eiíiig th é i n t"."., r, t f th
culture industry. During the 1980s, confrontation was reduced"
to hackneyed gestures, about as significant as rearrenging deck
chairs on the Titanic. He says that to inragine at this poirrr
that art can somehow transccnd the power structure-as the
process, conceptual and earth artists thought during the
1970s-or that it can change anytl.ring, is quire simply self-
delusion. There is no longer any possibility of escape fron.r
the system, and the nondeludcd individual of today is the one
who has given up naive hopes, and any pointless idealizing
of the artist's role, The post-avant-gardc doesn't try to con-
quer new territories or concern itself with radical new futures;
it understands that thc modcmist irnpulse has oxhausted itself,

14
but makes no predictions about where our culture is going,
or what will take modernism's place. "ln rhe visual arts," I

writes Peter Halley in his essay "Notes on Abstraction," "the

era of the early'70's believed itself to be a grear flowering of
postcapitalist culture. It believed that the commodiry and its
mind-set would be replaced by performance and by site spe-
cific works. ... But the'70's represented nor the last flow-
ering of a new consciousness, but rather the last incandescent
expression of the old idealism of autonomy. After this no
cultural expression would be outside the commodity sys-
tem. "
Behind the pretenses of humanistic culture,
according to Halley, lie "the nightmare scenarios of logic and
determinism ... a crystalline world responsive only to
numerical imperatives, formal manipulation and financial
control." It is the underlying srrucure of this world that Hal-
ley portrays in his cell-and-conduit paintings. §lhile these
appear to be in a historic lineage of geometric abstract art,
they are actually not intended to be abstract. Rather, they
are diagrammatic maps o[ our present social reality, images
of nonliving systems-the digital grids of modernity in which
everything circulates, but is closed. We are looking ar sym-
bolic structures of cells and walls, connected by electronic
circuits. Malevich's transcendental square has become a prison,
signifying not cosmic space but confinemenr. The cell is a
reminder of the apartment house, the hospital bed, the school
desk, according to Halley; the "stucco" texture is reminis-
cent of motel ceilings; and the Day-Glo paint is like the after-
glow of radiation. Missing, or eliminated, from these
diagrammatic prisons is any means through which to keep
the soul's energy alive. "Capital has always spoken of itself
as a culture of flux, premised on ideas of change, evolution
and development. But capital is, in fact, a universe of stasis,"
he writes, "governed by immutable self-perpetuating princi-
ples. ... The world of essences rurns out to be dominated
not by spirit, but by the corhmodity. " Art may reveal the
problematic nature of this situation by mirroring it, or by
transforming it into a hollow parody of itself, but it cannot
change anything. All the arrisr can do is betray the culture's

15
own modcls for corruptibility by treacling water-stealthr
nla¡rcuvcrs rather than overt activism. ln the abscnce of anr'
possibility of fulfilling heroic cultural ideals, the best line oi
approach is for the wholc culturc sinrply to ¡-lull thc rug out
frorn under itself.
' "Here is a coursc of action," writes the French
postmodern philosophcr Jean-Franqois Lyotard in Drift-
works: "harden, worsen, acceleratc dccadence."

Adoft the perspective of active nihilism, excec<l the mere

recognition-be it depressivc or adnriring--of the
deconstruction of all valucs. Ilecome more and more
incredulous. Push decadence furthcr still and accept, for
instance, to destroy the belief in truth under all its forms.

Since art today has beconre an inconsequential e¡ercise, the

artist or intellectual facing the system has no choice but to
cover up his tracks and slip into clusivcness. Today, whet is
rcvolutionary, at least in the opinion of Lyotard, is to hope
for nothing, since the very notion of hopc is one more point-
less variation on a theme that has been heard too often. Cri-
tique must be driftcd out of-drift is thc only form of
subversion that doesn't reinforce the status quo-a with-
drawal of cathexis, letting thc encrgy just drain away.
"lt's one way of refusing our assigned role," says
Joncs. "lnstead of creating anything ncw,'Wcwe nlove into slow
motion where nothing seems to changc. crcate a 'hover'
culture. Throwing things into neutral becomes the most rad-
ically charged gesture of thc momcn¡." "Hovering" is about
negating the modernist idea of change. The artist refuses to
feed the culture's demand for new slrows and innovative
works, renouncing both authorship and originality. It is the
kind of low-frequency effort exerciscd by Sherrie Levine, for
instance, when in 1981, instead of crcating her own "origi-
nal" photographs, she rephotographed the work of Edward
rJleston and \üy'alker Evans, two wcll-known plrotographers,
and exhibited it as her own work. This action violates our
sense of acceptable behavior; but it also refuscs to serve the
old modernist notions of originality and "who came 6rst."

1,6
 Seductive deception is the primary mode of Jones's
work as well, where nothing ever operates at face value. lWhat
looks like a bland or demure piece of abstract art turns out
to be the floor plan of a Nazi concentration camp, Hitler's
bedroom or a U.S. government army map of the banlefield
of My Lai. The six wall-reliefs that comprised his 1988 exhi-
bition in New York represented the floor plans of a six-sro-
ried building, the Columbushaus, constructed in 1931 on
Potsdamer Platz in Berlin, that once housed the German S.S.
The reliefs present themselves as rather uninspired minimal-
ist works, but their neutral wood surfaces mask what they
really represent-iust as the original Bauhaus architecture
(designed by Erich Mendelsohn) successfully concealed what
was actually going on inside its walls. (Even with the F. §(/.
'lVoolworth Company installed on the grouhd floor of the
building, prisoners marked or¡t for the death chamber could
arrive at tlre rear wir}rout being detected.) As with Peter Hal-
ley's work, conventional abstraction is contradicted by a hid-
den subversive content; "pure" art conceals a coded political
reality. In 198 9, Jones exhihited a group of five classic "mod-
_ern"- sculpnrres-biomorph ic forms cast in bronze, resem-
bling sculptures by Hans Arp and Constantin Brancusi. Each
sculpture u,as set on stacked blocks of limestone and wood
that perfectly simulated Brancusi's pedestals. As it turned out,
these biomorphic forms were actually three-dimensional
constructions of the HIV (AIDS) virus, and various DNA
genetic fragments that trigger malignant tumor growth, mas-
querading as sculptu res.
A lot of deconstructive postmodern art is about
stripping away the ideological myths that held modernism
together, particularly what critic Craig Owens has described
. as_ ",that mastering position," the hegenronic, mesculine
authority that has been vested in rilestern European culture
and its institutions. One way it does this is to simulare mas-
tery-to undermine rhe fixation with originality-which still
dominates our ideas of culturel production. Finding one's art
ready-made is, of course, an old Duchampian formula for
undermining the notion of originality, so we should not be
surprised by Levine's more recent project of appropriating

17
components from Duchemp's'[he Bride stripped barc by hcr
Bachelors, euen (The Large Glass); Duchamp's cluster of nine
little phallic shapes repr'eserlting the "bachelors" have been
realized as three-dimensional sculptures cast in opaquc glass,
with each one clegantly sct in a chcrry-wood vitrine. ln another
series of works, Levinc appropriates abstract painting, the
seat of the heroic modern masterpiece, and caricatures it as
a genre style, in small stripe and checkerboard pictures thal
have only minimal allure. Levine says about her work that ir
is about "the uneasy death of modernism"; it only has a
meaning in relation to everyone else's project-it has no
meaning in isolation.
Instead of keeping culture moving, nothing new
is produced. This is the politics of drift, or "hoveringi'; Peter
Ha[glsalls it "rear-guard" (as opposed to avanr-garJe) action,
by whicfi-he means-feeding thetulture blly-that which is
worthless: guerrilla ideas that know how to kcep their cover;
eccentric ideas that seem innocuous and so are admittcd
unnoticed by the media mechanism; doubtful ideas that are
not invested in thcir own rrurh and thus are not damaged
when they are manipulated; nihilistic ideas that get dismissed
for being too depressing. (More examples of this are described
in the following chapter, "Dancing with Baudrillard.") Rear-
guardism is not only a reiection of revolution; it is also a
deconstruction of the very idea of revolution-that modern,
u toplan alpi ratio_¡ y¿fch was- pa rt q f-a,cult¡¡¡al. experi ment
that failed. Fbiártists to pretcnd that it succeeded, according
to Halley, would be stupid. Rather we have to go on from
here and confront the position we 6nd ourselves in within
our present culturc. In the absence of objective possibilities
for change, "an understanding of the linrits," Halley states,
"is less paralyzing than going off on sorne silly campaign
based on false assumptions. That would be really paralyz-
ing."
Hope turns out to be the vital issue at stake here:
it seems to be where the dividing line has to be drawn betwecn
rwo very different interpre_t4tions of postmodernism and the
human fufure th-a-iCre-emerging simultaneously in our cul-
ture, as between those who continue to aspire to transform-
ing our dysfunctional c-uiiuie, and those who believe-such a

18
 hope is naive or deludqd. Obviously, how we see the future
-ñts everrmñ; to do w,th ho* *. live in the present. For the
first time in recorded history, the certainty that there will be
a future has been lost; this is the pivotal psychological reality
of our time. According to the French social philosopher Jean
Baudrillard, there is" no fuffie
"nuclear, faraway, vaporized"; and the endíng of the possi-
bilities for art merely reflects the more general ending of real-
iry itself. Since everything has already been wiped off the map,
Baurl,rillard 6nds it useless to hope, or to dream. In an amaz-
-lg eisay called "The Anorexii Ruins," Baudrillard claims
that the great ariiiE.liSi6ifTEE those of the years from
1920 to 1930. Since everything has been done already, today
we are only inferior imitators. Intrinsic values have been
replaced by simulated, synthetic values. "The maximum in
intensity lies behind us," he states. "The minimum in\passion
and intellectual inspiration lie before us." Quite simply,
according to Baudrillard, there is no life any longer in our
societies, although the vital functions continue. One comes
to an arrangement with the situation; reciprocal indifference
is negotiated.
This pervasive need of the deconstructive mind
to know what is not possible anymore would seem to repre-
sent an absolute terminus in the "disenchanted" modern world
view; the self-checkmating of a now dysfunctional but
apparently immovable dominant social structure. Decon-
structive postmodernism does not ward off the truth of this
reality, but tries to come to terms with its inevitability, in
what are often ironic or parodic modes that do not criticize,
but simply declare art's pointlessness openly, and bait us with
its indifference. Artist Dan Graham has stated that "to carry
on under the aspiration to effectivity is itself-tragically-to
court the bad faith which afflicts so much would-be social
art, which continues to 6nd its home in the Modernist gallery
and museum because there is nowhere else for it." \What we
now need, according to Graham, is not effectiveness but
"adequacy to the blackness, the margin, the pragmatic point-
lessness yet absolute value of critical reflection in conditions
approaching the void."
Obviously it makes a difference whether or not

19
this sense of nihilism.is a potent factor at the deepest level of
an artist's gq¡5ci6r¡5¡¡ss5-and for rnany people, Baudril-
lard's writings have been the Maldoror of our time-since it
decisively alters onc's approach to the work he does. "1ü7e
are living in an age of skepticisrn," states another decon-
structive artist, Thomas Larvson, "and as a result thc practice
of art is inevitably crippled by the suspension of belief. The
artist can co¡rtinue as though this were not true, in the naivc
hope that it wilt all work out in the end... (but) the com-
plexity of the situation demands a complex response."
Instead of carrying forward the betrayed ideol-
ogy of the old avant-garde, the deconstructive artist may resort
to fraudulence, or delibcrately adopt the posturetof a char-
latan by becoming, for instance, a counterfeiter who simu-
lates the work of other artists. He or shc is not going to get
us out of the mess we're in, but uses strategies of subterfuge
and calculated insinceriry to disguise his (or her) intentions.
The English artist Simon Linke, for instance, has meticu-
lously copied commcrcial gallery advertisements straight fronr
the pages of Artforum magazine, which he then sells as beau-
tifully painted works of art. Whether the artist intends this
as radical criticism or inspired clowning is hard to tell. Mim-
icry, the imitation and recycling of previous aesthetic styles,
appropriating some orle else 's work as one's own, simulation,
camouflage and counterfeiting (Mikc Bidlo, for instance,
copying paintings by Picasso, Magritte and Jackson Pollock)
are all mcans of deliberately thwarting the developnrent of
one's own work s<¡ that it no longer functions in sync with
the proper historical development of art, as wc have come to
understand it. (A recent project by Bidlo involved copying to
scale some eighty-four paintings of Picasso's women; Bidlo
always works from color reproductions, never from origi-
nals.) These actions directly violate our notions about crea-
dviry, particularly accordiug to the modernist canon, as being
based in innovation, authenticity and originality. "As freak-
ish as it must sound," states Jones, "spurning change ...
reasserts the artist as the arbiter of a radicalized culture." "lf
the center does not ho[<I, Annelie Pohlen wrotc recently in
Artforum, "if the final efforts of a philosophical and ideolog-

20
ical commitment have lost credibiliry, then . . . the celebra-
tion of noncommitment may appear as the ultimate stability
in instability. In any case, rhat would seem to be the best way
to describe the current mind-set of Western culture. The era
of u tgpr4n ¡¿i.9¡o¡-now*he.longrto-histp¡y, and any reassertion
of_utqp-ian values must now smack of romanticism."
art embodñ33 retrospective reading
of modernism that is fully aware of its limitations and faileá
political ambitions; we can no longer depend on the avant-
garde to institute change. To replace modernism's utopian
mission of social transformation with subversive complicity
raises the question of what "a truly conscious postmodern
practice"-what the substance of radicality-really is, after
the closure of modernism. \íhat future, if any, does it hold?
How do we conceive of the post-avant-garde artist? The other
question, of whether postmodernism offers any real break
with the " disenchantment" of the modern world view, can-
not be adequately addressed, I feel, without an understand-
ing that there are two postmodernisms-a deconstructive and
a reconstructive version----each representing the pole oppo-
site to the other, and each believing that its scenario and view
of the future is the correct one.
"Finally," states Lester Milbrath in Enuisioning
aS

p1e can help bring about change than to deny cynical[y ihat l/
change is possible." Thinking in terms of both these possi-
ilities at rhe same time-that change is no longer possible
and that change is inevitable-leads to a peculiar OX,
and is ro
shall need, thus, to consider several narratives of
ernism, and to orchestrate the dialogue between them-since
not yet visible in the "of6cial" picture of postmodern realiry
just described is a different vision, one that presents a muclr
more forward-lookin& picture of ou" fnture possibilties.
_ Although the two postmodernisms have quite
d_iscrete and even opposing philosophical anitudes, what ihey
share in common is an understanding that the belief system
that belonged to modernity has become obsolete. \Where they

2"1
 differ is in deciding how to respond to the de¡nands for cul-
tural renewal and change, and in assessiug wlrethcr art (at
one time the primary architect of modern ideals) can be
effective in this way anymore, given the rcsistance of twen-
tieth-century capitalism to radical transformation.
Much of my text is devotcd to creating a frame-
work lq¡ rccenstructivc póstrnodern practice, which, although
-----+.-.,,
less visible in the mainstrcam than deconstructive art, impli-
cates art in the operative reframing of our entire world vierv
and its Cartesian cognitive traditions, Reconstructivists are
ins to make thc transition from Euroccntric. oiir-iáñEal
;l¿"iñ;?11ñ'"doñ-iñi-tor--modetoicrti.iEi6ñar,l"n
ll iiññoññédtcdñcs-§1 s oc I aI

99ol9C1gl-?$sneqclt.
Í{ñZhantnrcnt of thc World, "lf therc is any bond among
the elements of this 'counter culture,' it is the notion of rccovery
, . . of our bodies, our health, our sexuality, our natural cnvi-
ronment, our archaic traditions, our unconscious mind, our
rootedness in thc land, our sense of comrnunity, and our con-
nectedness to one another. "
The essence of the new paradigm emerging in
physics, general systems thcory and ecology changes our whole
idea of reality with the notion of intcrconnectedness-an
understanding of the organic and unilied character of the
universe. Beyond C4llcjl?n dualism is the knowledge that
yo, crnn6t6reik up--t6c- *hdlé. Alúe bcginio seethÉworld
through the lens of ecology, we also begin to reshape our
------i---*..
viewof ourselysl-Th¡-hofi stit--p-a1a;Ji§m-iibiiñ-grn-"f rnner
nña6[CáÉñ;ive an<l ob jective-w"orlds closei to"gether.
When this perception of a unified 6eld is applied to humalr
society and to culture, it makes us a codetermining factor in
the reality-producing process; wc are not just witrrcsscs or
spectators. The "observer" is a notion that belongcd to the
classical way of looking at the world. The observer could
approach the world without raking part. But this is not the
case within a holistic view. If "world making" is the princi-
pal function of mind, then social reality does not just "hap-
pen" in the world but is constructed from the way our private
beliefs and intentions merge with those of others. A world

22
 view in this sense is not something found "out there," but is
something individuals construct and create. The issue of what
beliefs wé hold is therefore crucial. For instiñcsáTElielfEái
iesrs-ance-ló- théil6miñáñt-soddstructureisf utile,because
the structure is too ruthless or too powerful, will have the
effect, if accepted by enough people, of stabilizing the rela-
tions of dominance. What we are learning is that for every
situation in our lives, there is a thought pattern that both
precedes and maintains it, so that our consistent thinking
patterns create our experience. El.hl¡gllC gu¡1[lEbg, *.
canalsochalrge_-o.ql.qIpslle_n9*e-t'eoplEfiuelegitim?flt61il
social institutions, no matter how powerful those institutions
seem to be, and they also have the power to withdraw legit-
imacy.
Although it may seem as if the individual in today's
world has little power, the truth is that only we have the
power to transform our situation: tbere is no one else.The
source of creativity in sociery is the person. §7here individu-
als and social transformation converge is in this personal
breakthrough to a new way of seeing. Both the problem and
the level at which the solution emerges are manifested ini-
tially in the individual,, who is also an organ of the collective.
'What happens in the individual is typical of the total
situa-
tion and is the place where future solutions emerge. It is also
irue, however, that individuals cannot be liberated from
coercive social institutions as long as they retain the ideolog-
ical world-picture that holds these institutions in place. As

overcome the preseni disastrous ways of ordering our indi-

v id u a-l'áñ d- có-m m uiial I i üel ir-ñii I weTe'iééñliE-fié-,ii, o f the
upon wnr we cannot relect th rs
old vieú we nave a new that seems more convin-
cing. Change is most likely to occur, acqgr-d!¡g-q9_Gnf6n,
rou gh peop le wb!,-ar¿á§Jar ;emóv-edJrorucyni iiim a s
-_rh
they ere from utopianism.
It all-comes down, 6nally, to the kind of culture
we take to be the most desirable, and to whether we are pre-
pared to say what sort of world view would supporr rhe cre-

23
 ation of a futurc diflercnt fronr our prescnt situation. History
provides nrany examples of nlonolithic social systems that
changed: feudalism, slavery, colonialism. At this point, rt is
rapidly besoming obvious to many people that the achieve-
ments of modern teéhnocratic society have been a.-r-nixed
blessirg, and that our profit-maximizing, cornpetitive atri-
tudes will have to be transformed, because the present values
of growth, powcr and do¡nination are not sustainablc.
§(/e Iive in a roxic culture, nor iusr environmen-
-tely-but spiritually as we[If-net work'ii to sucieéd as
part of a necessary process of cultural healing, there must be
a willingness to abandon old programrning-to let go of ncg-
ative ideas and beliefs thar arc destructive to the planet and
to life on earth. But what does this mean for art? Jungian
psychoanalyst Marie-Louise von Franz says: "A civilization
which has no creativc people is doorled. . . . The person who
is really in touch with the futurc is the creative oc'rsonalitv."
-rhis
TlEiñiKohul;;rher psychoarralyst, hli c¿licd " ihc
anticipatory function" of art; those artists who are in touch
with thc necessary psychological tasks of a culture prepare
the way for the culturally supported solution to a conflict to
emerge, or for the healing of a psychological defect.
Obviously, while our world view is still under the
sway of the struggle-for-survival mentality, and thc message
we are all being sent is "cvery man f<.¡r himself," we are less
likely to effect change unless the psychological obstacles wirhin
ourselvcs are 6rst removed. lt makes a difference whether or
not a sense of hopc is a potcnt factor at the deepest level of
an artist's consciousness, since hope radically alters one's inner
intention and feeling of purpose. Medical research in the rel-
\'t I ativ4l ng,ü_!4t1 of psych_oneuroimmunolqgy, studying the
inÍmete neuronal and horr¡onal bonds between mind and
' -bo?y,fiIsEtaliliihed, for instance, that hope ancl a positive
attitude are potcnt factors in healing, just as depressit-rn, despair
hnd hopelcssncss hrve been found to be biológically destiuc-
tive,. a.nd to depress.the immune system.iBelief] is a.porenr
mqdicine.
From this perspective, rhe willingness to rhrow
out tough-minded cmpiricism and to belicve thar individual

24
 actions can make a difference is not necessarily a glissade
into self-clelusion, but rather our most valuable resource-
what Marilyn Ferguson calls "the new common sense" of the
pragmatic visionary. From this perspective, labeling as ideal-
istic, utopian or naive those who believe change is possible
can be seen as the most effective way to make sure that things
are left exactly as they are. As New York artist Mary Beth
Edelson stated, when she was asked in an interview whether
she felt optimistic about our society moving in the direction
of ecological and cooperative stability: "lt doesn't make a
difference in my behavior whether there is a chance that this
will succeed or not. I will still behave as if these goals were a
possibility, regardless of what my doubts are. . . . The oppo-
site of not hoping is what we have--extraordinarily paralyz-
ing, cynical alienation. If we sit back (
soins to do anythine because "id :"{lj#
_is_going to lap¡gn. t makes things happen is believing
that- théf can happen. What some people call fooling our-
selves may be our only hope. " In Staying Aliue, Roger §üalsh
quotes automobile tycoon Henry Ford's famous remark:
"Those who believe they can do something and those who
believe they can't, are both right." At each moment we see
both sides of the polarity. Each of us is capable of either
view, but which of them we actually hold will determine our
priorities and how we will act. Social renewal depends on
individuals, but individuals cannot achieve renewal if they do
not believe in the possibility of it. The precondition for any
human effort is optimism, the leap of faith that William James
saw as rooted in Iife itself.
Increasingly, as artists begin to question their
responsibility and perceive that "success" in capitalist,
patriarchal terms may not be the enlightened path to the furure,
--whieh-of*hese views they hold deñnitely affects how they see
their role: ias.deml¡¡f ei or as culturel healer. Healing is the lr
most Dowertttl asDect of rcconstructrve oostmodernrsm-
t ctivist, it would seem that art can
onlyTé6ñsiriil. TFeie ii rió]ü1tríé 6eyoña dácoñitiué1t-ion.
Lyotard, for one, makes this point irrcfutably clear in an
interview with Brigitte Devismes, published in Flash Art:

25
 lnteru. Even those who undcrstand whrt this
type of action air¡s at often object that "you offer noth-
ing to replace what you are destroying." lffhat can you
answer them?
l-F.I,. ht ury opinion thc prr>blcrn is urrinr-
portant and irrclcvant: we rrc cLtlled ol to producc the
thcses of a ncw sclrool, and th¡t is out of thc qucsti<.rn.
That's 6nishcd, it is no longcr possiblc. I belicve demys-'/
ti6catiou is an cndlcss task. This is whcrc thc concept ofJ
a "pcrmanent rcvolution" can be givcn its true dinrcn-
sion. . . . lühat was oncc part of thc avant-garde always
becomes part of the rear-guard and, as such, loses its
disruptive power. That is the strength of the capitalist
system, its capacity for recovcring anything and evcry-
thing. In this sense, the "artists" are pushcd forward,
they are literally chased out of thc vcry deconstructcd
forms they produce, they arc compelled to kcep on find-
ing something elsc. I bclieve thcir research knows no other
drive.

Disrupting a reality so pervasive that we can't sce

any other way of being is not possible without shcdding thc
"old mind" conditioned by our culture. And it is precisely at
this crossover betwcc¡r tllc reactive mode of dcconstruction
and the more activc rnode of reconstruction-in wl¡ich we
are no longer merely the observcrs of our social fete but are
participating cocreators-that a change from old-paradigm
dynamics into new is likcly to occur. As participating cocrea-
tors, we become ourselves the shapcrs of r.rcw frameworks,
the orchestrators of culture and consciousness. Transforma-
tion cannot come from cver nrore manic production and con-
sumption in the marketplace; it is more likely to comc from
some new sense of service to the whole-from a new inten-
sity in personal commitment. Despite- clairns by sociel critics
like Lvotard and Fredric Tamcson tlrat our sotictv reflbcrs the
_-¡ U:S!§l. f lll *
E'.gt i Girc tl n g v i s i o ri .ell.-i¡ i@ui". t,
he sreaa¿ófli-taÍve úo,áJt tor,-ln fr.t, pr.rñiédiñáf. tt it
i ghat of saving tñé-ear-hlat this point, nothing else really
-=;=: 'h,;EhJhls-isior ,"ráily ,, .y
"l*"y,
friend James Marriott wrote me from London: "pp.í"nr,
"l have long
had dif6culty coping with tlre contradiction bctwecn bciug

26
 t t tt t ¡(o)olttl
,i" l'llt 'i i',i
-
in Art College (which rvants objects, nonrelated to specific
pleces or wider social issr.rcs, quintessentially non-useful and
iderllv con.rmercial) rvith my own work (long-term projects,
n on -o b j ect- bn sed, n ot con celnql wi,¡h_*a-esthCgc¡-,Uld-sq!g--
merce hut focused on._sp,eciflc-qr¡estions of loc¡1, ecological
end sqcjql tr¡ nsform.rdcn ). "
In our present situation, the effectiveness of art
neecls to be judged by how well it overturns the perception
of the world tlrat we have been taught, which hes ser our
u'hole sociery on ¡ corrrsc of biospheric destruction. .Ecology
(lnrl the rcle tion d,_to-te I- fi_cld_!]t<-rclel of "ecosophy") is a new
c r i I tDi?iffo-rce we can no longer esc:rpe-it is the only effec-

tiiii-ffi rities of the piesát eco-

nomic order. I believe thet what we will see in the next few
years is a nerv paradigm based on the notion of-p4ttr-iiñiio-i1
in which q4_w_ill begin--to-rede6ne-. itseif... in terms-of social
rel¡tedness end-ecological-he:rling, so that artists will gravi-
ññlóla r.l difÍ.rent activitles, and roles than those
tlrat operated under the aesthetics "tltude.
of modernism.
It is important to understand that any remapping
of the mod-er¡-paradigm has both x decon¡t-nr:ñiñE-TñtTa
reconstructive climension; they need to be secn not as oppo-
sites, with sherp boundaries drewn berween them, but as
components in a larger proccss, operating simultaneously like
the complementarity principle. The key is to bring the two
components into relationship, so that they will not remein
poised forever in mutual ¡ntasonism. I personally see the
contradictions between the two postmodernisms as very pro-
ductive, since it allows ns to investigate both the darker and
the lighter paths to tlre future withor¡t accepting the inevire-
bilitv of either. Contradictions in bcliefs offer not only tl.re
greetest depth of field, they also project clear alternerives from
rvhich to choose. This can be quite useful, given the general
mind-set that belicves rve no longer heve choices. Choices,
however, are never value-free, and so in any reevaluation
process, the basic step is to confront what it is that we actually
believe--only then can we truly determine where we stand,
right now, in relation to our culture. A former student of
mine, Amy Olds, put the problem very well:
/1
.!,[ ;,.t,!, t Ní5 r(c.
1.5 l'''o 27
l. 't''',\'
 {We have been taught that] we must lcarn to Ía.ce rcality.
What is reality? I bclicve that our society's definition of
reality is the corc of the rotting apple that is our world
and its doonred predicament. I also believe that ¿rt has
playcd a kcy role in fornring our soclety's dcfinition oi
rcality, but that it has thc power to redchnc that con-
cept.
When we see cynicism even in our art, it rein-
f".§:95j9!i9{ ,¡1 .a ncgativc, cvnical rcalitv. we've comc
-to áFprecile and cxpcct-fynieism in ¡rr as ¡n intellec-
tual game about tl.re dcfinition of reality. Recently the
peoplc who create art ntovcments, artists as well as art
critics, have come from this mindset also. They teach us
that cynicism is interesting becausc it relates to lifq.-Ugpq
- and. op-ti-¡risgr- are, gene-¡ll[y hatcd, n:ade fun of, con- .
- si{cr-c! -hokcy, childisl¡ and sometimcs fanatic,
iinrp-ly
*_L"Saqcs-t¡"y are not concep¡s that pcopleof any inteL-
lectual státure believe in. But the truth is that
---r.iuittl people
d<¡ u'ani to believc in a positive world view. . . .
We'vc seen that art has the porver to f<lrm negative visions
of thc world through rnagnifying tlre undcrcurrctrts of
rynicism, so it ¡nust be possible to creatc a positive vision
of the world through focusing the aspirations of hope.

Even if we are ¡rot the helpless victims of our

beliefs, the exquisite peradox is th¡t we can choose to believe
we are, as Roger'Walsh points out. Knowing that ou-r bc'liefs
have co-llscquenccs, we must be very careful in their usc. What
we have formerly considcred to be objective rcelity we are
'discovering to be a subjective experience of creating and being
created, both of which go on simultaneously. The mlnd is
not a static thing; it learns new knorvledge, new concepts,
new world views, and thcse pcrccptions guidc our actions as
much, if not even more, than seemingly irrefutable facts.
Obviously the reenchantment of art being envisioned here
will require for its realization the willingness to acknowledge
that the cultural futurc is not irrevocably foreclosed, but is
still open.

28
 Cseprpn 3
DnNcrNc wrls BeUoRTLLARD
Postmodernism and the Deconstruction of Meaning

Mcaninslessness iryüLjlslulJncss of life and is

tlr*t.i A*lriltnliiñi ¡vtra'niig ma kes
d great many tbings endttrable-perhaps
euerything.
Carl Jung

At this time, I cdn't think of_ anything more

meaningful th an ta kin glmeaninÁ apari.
Meyer Vaisman

I hrr. ,..n many people die," wrote the French

writer Albert Camus, "because life for them was not worth
living. From this I conclutle that the question of life's mean-
ing rs the most urgent question of all." If it is true that the
crertion of meaning is vital to life, and that rhe human
organism does not fulfill one of its essential biological needs
when it does not have a framework of meaning, then how
are we meant to respond to the undermining of the very legit-
imacy of meaning itself in the work of deconstructive philos-
ophers like Baudrillard and Lyotard? §fe seem to be

29
 experiencing in our culture a radical break rvith the rvill-to-
meaning, which until now has always been understood as a
fundamental drive of human life. The loss of meaning I am
talking about involves two quite differcnt levcls, only or.rc of
which coucerns the way that signs or intages Inay bc decotr-
structed to des-tnbilizc the symbolic order. Therc is-ifso the
grcat'er loiíof a mythic, trinspcisonel groun,l of mcanirtg in
the way that our particular culture transmits itsclf. lt is the
spirit, or "binding power" holding everything together, the
pitte.r, dónnecting and giving significancc to the wholá]ihat
is lacking in the underlying picturc wc havc of our worltlll
Deconstructivists clainr as obsolete any necessary
union of a signifier and a signified; this emancipation of the
sign (or image) releases it from any "archaic" obligation it
might oncc have had to designete a specific meaning. Mobile
or i'floating" signifiers maintain no fixed relationships; they
can break with any given context and engcnder an infinity of
new contexts. This is exactly what we experience, for instancc,
in the paintings of David Sallc: tlle loss of n¡rr¡tivc rneanin$
ánd iti social-function. ln tlrc I;ryered and slippery spíce of
'post-óde."irm, áñything gocs with anything) like a garne
without rules; in.rages slide past one another, dissociated and
decontextualized, failing to link up into a coherent sequence.
'When the Surrcalists juxtaposed disiunciive and decontex-
tualized images, they wanted to shatter the parameters of the
rational, everyday world and to spark off ncw and unex-
pected poetic meanings. Salle, however, does trot sccm to be
doing this; his images function n-rore like Warl.rol's-neutral
in their isolation, and "perforrning" without expressive or
manipulative intent. Salle's inrages exist without auy rc[er-
ent. Mcening becorncs detachable, likc rhc keys o¡-a ke.y--ring.
Thi nóriecrp.obál inreractions anrbng the inrages dó*ñólñx
or hold meaningr they offer the illusion tlrat somcthing is
¡Taking place, but the real game is iust to stay in free fall.
*Strictly speaking," to quote Jean Baudrillard, "nothir-rg
i
j remains bJt a sense of dizziness, with which you can't drr
I anvthine."
t-"'.-' .. -1
Because th{ unifying p.resg¡ce bf a bel!e1,11 a
- transcendental cosmic ó.d". nu iung"i exi§ts in or.iirltui",

30
 : ,l

the rmplicltion is that works of art can no longer offer the

sort of unified vision of the world that existed, say, in the
Renaissance. Meaning, according to deconstructivism, is
another of those comforting illusions that need to be surren-
deredl from our present perspective of discontinuous vision,
in rvhich symbols heve been uprooted and disconnected from
their source, to see the world as indifferent to meaning is to
see it "truthfully," without distortion or projection-. 'Even
before Auschrvitz," wrote tlre German philosopher Íheo?o-i
Adoino, 'iir the fade óf hi§torical pxperiences, ir was an affir-
metive lie to ascribe to cxistence'any meaning at all." Ador-
no's meditations on the social implicetions of Auschwitz led
him to the belief that ány idea of harmonizing with the world,'
of striving for a positive or meaningful relation to it, is cheap
-opd-li-, likethe háppJ-efding in móvies, obtained by
repressing the reality of radical evil and despair. For Adorno,
the clichés abs_qlqtt casting a glow of happiness and har-
monyoverary.q¡happy_.¡,q.ql_w-olld-are-lp-a-thfojreJhEshock e. TEEihock
ádririlis-teréd to modern society by the presence of the con-
centration camps made the notion of a benevolent, or mean-
i n gf u l, u n i verse s_ee¡n
-n_qi-ye_a n d u_nreali sli c_fo_r,e¡¿-er: there is
no meaningful order now-if there ever was any-to which
anyone can belong. "l de6ne postmodern," writes Jean-Fran-
gois Lyotard in The Postmodern Condition, "as incredulit
toward metanarratives. " Life presents itself, in our current
society, as tñ"endGss accumulation of meaningless specta-
cles, originating in the loss of any unifving narrative of the
rvorld. Salle's pictures deal u,ith spectacle, not with meaning.
Therefore, to interpret them is to make a false move; we are
rvarned by Baudrillard that, in general, it is dangerous to
unmask images, since they dissimulate the fact that there is
nothing behind them.
The really exemplary voice is that of the seminal
theoretician who has been most infh¡enti¡l in orchestrating
the art world's whole deconstructive scenario, Jean Baudril-
l:rrd, for whom the rcvolurion of postmoderniry rf-thE-iññiEñse
process oFih-e-iffion,
the seco-ñil'freat iáv<ilution of the rwentietll century, is equal,
for Baudrillard, to the earlier revolution that entailed the

)t,(nt);','! a,',': ',tl,t.i1' ¡ -,,

31
 deconstructior.r of appcaranccs. If Baudrillartl is thc *.iz.rrJ-
priest of postrnodernisnl, rhr: painrings of David S¡lle ¡rc
certainly the setting around which this particular u'.rv uf
thinking, this aesthetic style anrJ mood, are cxprcssed. Sallc
has denicd that his paintings arc intcnded as any sorr of corrl-
mcntary on the state of our culture. His irnages are importanr
to him not as social criticisnr, but, he claims, "in their orln
mechanistic ways . , . in a dctached way. " For many posr-
nrodern artists acting under rhe sway of Baudrillard's mera-
physics, it is not meaning, or the increase of meaning, that
gives pleasure; rather it is its ncutralization tl.rat fascinares,
and fascination does not depend on mcaning.
Sallc's ironic dctachment seems to suggest rh;rt
his choice <)Íjrqagcs irnplies no particulirr ct¡mnlitmcnr or
sociel strttct¡tcnt,las frr as he is conccn¡cJ. Tlris ir ck¡sc in ;r
way to i{ola¡d Barthes's notion that mcaning is not corn-
munication (inforrnation) or signrlication (syrnbolrsrn), but,is
always in play, always dif(ercnt. Unbalancing tlre nrearring is
thc only way of avoiding thc "tyranny of corrcct meaning. "
_ ts9r¡h.r ever) goes so _f:r r as to cleim_ t ha!_!hc' oblig-a-tion-t,f
Ianguagc to say things is actrrally fascist-fasl:isnr- b¡4g not
the prohibitiol_o_{ ¡¡y_u:g thir:g, bqt thc obligatio-n tcr,!q_üetn.
I3ut, if n.reanirrg is whar makcs the world, how is
onc meant to respond to this rnovcment of auto¡loln<.¡us
images, willfully with<irawn from signification-irnage s thar
no longer narrate, but in their dctachcd frce-f)ortingncss
actually obstruct any attempt at deciphcrmenr? Hcre is rhe
responsc of one critic, Thom:rs L:rwson, writing in Artforwrt:

Salle records a world so stupcfied by tlre nareotic of its

own delusior:ary gazc that it fails to understrr¡rd th¡t ir
has nothing actual in its gresp. Anrid scenring lbun-
dance, therc is no rcirl clroicc, only a choicc of ¡rlran-
tasnrs. The world describerl in S¡llc's work rs a jrdcd
one, rifc with a sluggish mclanclroly. Thc sready lcach-
ing of nreaning from objcets and images brccds ¡rr c¡rcr-
vating uncertainty. Artist and vierver ¿like stumble
tlrrough a nraze of falsc clues and incomplcte riddlcs,
conring on thc same viclvlcss irra͡genrcnts and cnrpty
repctitions in thc search for a colrcrcnt idcntity. Signs

32
 and props are ritually shufflcd like so many commodi-
ties on the floor of a deparlmenr srore of the imagina-
tion, with l compulsive repetirion that offers a dwindling
satisfaction.

For Lawson at least, it wor¡ld appear that Salle's

proliferating images have all the resonance of paper clips
clashing in the night. In this radical negarion of the sign, no
patterns of meaning, no corrosive flashes of insight, are being
brought to lighr. But musr an image be understood to be
valued, in order for us to know how ro react to it? Looking
at art that refuses all judgments, rhat does not discriminate
between experiences, corresponds to our stupefied fascina-
tion before the TV set, as we aimlessly flip from station to
stetion. Passivity in front of the spectacle is the very opposire
of waking up, looking ar evenrs critically, seeing reality and
feeling responsible-that is to sey, responding to what is going
on. Responsibility implies rhar one is carrying out intentions,
shaping the environment, influencing orhers. So the question
is, how much responsibility are we willing to take for exer-
cising intentionality in the world?
In the catalogue essay rhat accompanied the Salle
retrospective at the Whitney Museum, curator Lisa Phillips
points out how, in the electronic landscape of television, "the
unrelenting abundance of data and its transmission . . . make
each image, word or impulse signify less and less." In a tele-
vised universe the real and the imaginary, the catastrophic
and the trivial, coalesce on a single plane of electronic flow-
there is more and more information and less and less mean.
ing. But unlike Lawson, Phillips sees the auronomy of images
in Salle's work as a liberating force. She writes: "His paint-
ings breathe life even as rhey speak of a Ioss of it. The pure,
untranslatable sensuous immediacy of the images refuses to
he violated by interpretation. The paintings are ineluctable
prescnces even as tltey expose us to the experience of absence. "
rWe are now faced with a curious situation in
rvhich meaning has become so detached from itself that its
centrál collapse defines much of the art of our time-to the
point where the "will" to meaning ofren deliberately courts

33
 meaninglessness and even finds satisfaction in it. Nowhere,
for instance, is what Baudrillard calls the "beautiful effects
of disappearance," better illusrrated than in the Plaster Sur-
rogates of Allan McCollum, works that simultaneously
dramatize and thwait our desire to look at pictures. On closei
scrutiny, McCollum's "paintings" reveal themselves to be
simulacra-pseudoarti facts in which picture, mat and framc
are all one seamless object, molded in plaster-yet there is
1ot-hing to see. In place of any comnrunicating in-rage is a
dark, thick substance, like pitch-a pure screen of black, whose
emptiness would seem to express the posthumous condition
of art and culture. To simulate is to play what Baudrillard
calls the "disappearing game" of postn.rodernism, which he
claims is the best we can afford today, since nothing is real
anyway. "lf only art could accornplish the magic act of its
own disappearance!" states Baudrillard. "But it continues to
make believe it is disappearing when it is already gone."
McCollum's simulations of conventional art
objects are like signs from a language, but not the one you
think you know. Hung in groups to rescmble a crowded salon
show, sometimes by the hundreds, they are like steps to a
palace that can never be rebuilt or renrembercd-where only
the allegory of the empire remains. "l'm just doing the min-
imum that is expected of an artist and no more," McCollum
has stated. "l'm trying ro orchestrate a charade." If these
objects arc intended to make us aware of a particul:rr ideo-
logical delusion, then we must ask ourselves what it is rhat
we are cleluded about. In the agc of simulation, video dogs
and cats can be bought for twenty dollars that will chase
after video bones and balls of string, providing (to quote an
article from Time magr.zí:ne) the " full, ricl.r cxperience of
owning your own pct without the mess and inconvenience of
the real thing." Computer scientists are now working on
creating artiGcial realities that will allow people to play sim-
I uleted tennis games, for instance, without ever leaving their
i/ living room, by wearing a special computerized helmer and
gloves. Within these compering visions of sraged masquer-
ades and tableaux uiuants, the line berween the art of the
simulacrum and the psychologically charged spoof is a very
\ thin one.

34
 Since nothing separares true from false any-orfi
how can we possibly assess the reaction of the power of \
,|
structure to a perfect simulation?, asks Baudrillard. By feign-
ing a violation, he suggests, and putting it to the test. "Go.-
and simulate a rhefr in a large department store," he pro-
poses in Simulations. "Or organize a fake hold-up. . . . How
do you convince the security guards that it is a simulated
theft?" You won't succeed, because the web of artificial signs
will be inextricably mixed up with real elemenrs (a police
officer will really shoot on sight, or a customer will really
faint from fear). Likewise, I shall ask, how do you convincé
an art dealer that McCollum's pictures are not "real" works
of art, but simulations? fou won't e\
colléatórs wíll d critics
will write even escape the
I te is that art
ItS O\¡/n
'beeñ-lc,st. : somewhere the real scene-has
brt eueryti,ing áontiñ*íffi hirrr*.
Recently, the following story in Arts magtzine
caught my eye. A southern millionaire named Lee Terry had
invited a group of forty artists, dealers and their families to
Atlanta for the weekend to see his collection of their works.
One of the guests, Steven Henry Madoff, recounted that after
a lavish meal served at Terry's home, the sudden arrival of a
special guest, the country and wesrern singer'Willie Nelson,
was announced by the bandleader. As Nelson crooned
"Georgia on My Mind" late into the night, one of the guests,
artist Donald Lipski, threw him his iacket, by way of hom-
age. During intermission, everyone crowded around the singer,
reqüesting.hís autograph. Later, it emerged that the singer
hadn't really been Nelson at all, but an impersonator. lrtadáff
con_tinues: "Nobody could believe that Mr. Terry would pull
such a stunt. Yet the host was simply standing there, laugh-
ing obscurely in the pool's shimmering light. Everyone was
confused. Some were outraged. Some thought it was the best
practical joke theycould-remember " But-few_oÍ them, says
Madoff,,believ-ed-üis-am_azing-game-ofuimulatiol had been
Mr. Terry's intention. At the end of the evening, Anne plumb,
a dealer, turned to the host and asked him what the idea of
hiring the fake was. Madoff recalls: "[Mr. Terry] was defen-

3.5
 sive by then, realizing thar some of us were hurt by the eve-
ning's entertainment. 'l've been buying your crap for a couple
of years.' he replied. 'l thought you ought to rry some of
-n41e.' "
. In a society where radicality in art is scen as hav-
lng no consequenccs, strategies of perody and indiffercnce
retreat behind the contradictions rather than trying to ovcr-
come them. lworks of art come to rcpresent themselves as
objects of consumption, bccoming even more cor¡nrodified
than commodities. We are all implicated in this unfolding
,_spectacle, made numb with endlcss variety and inordinaré
display. " §flhS.n 4ll 9-199 fails, " comments Jonathan porritt,
ji author of Seeing Green, "there is infinite solace in being able
to,Jhoose berwccn rhirtf-rwo var¡cties- of crr food." How
-docs one dcal with cultural inauthcnticity if one's mcans and
materials are indistinguisliable from those of thc culrural re4liry
one is attacking?
Iteduplication has its own parricular faq-cingtion
in the absurd but alluring "product. art" of Haim Steinbi.-h,
who buys his art obiects ready-madc at Conran's, Blooming-
dalc's or the supermarker. Steinbach seductively ,,ü
the purchased items-tea ".."ng".
kettles, digital clotks, lava
f !,sRlays
lanrps, water pitchers, trash receptacles, boxes óf cere:l1, radios,
cooking pots, towels, boxes of detergcnt, sneakcrs-on spe-
cially constructed formica shelves for the vicwer-cusromer.
In a work er.titled supre,trcly black, tl.rree boxes of Bold
detergent are displayed with two gleaming, black, deco-style
water pitchers, and in prrrt irccent2, we have two rubber Hal-
loween masks, a pair of stainlcss steel trash cans and three
tea kettles. More recently, Sreinbach has been using expen-
sive iewelry, antique funtiture and muscurn-quality primitive
artifacts from all over the world ir.r his displays; ind, in a
surprising departure, he prescnted a battered n.lattress and a
two-wheeled shopping cart rhat hc found abandoned on the
streets in his neighborhood in Brooklyn. Generally, arr works
are priced according to size, but in Stcinbach's case, the buyer
must also absorb the original cosr of rhe displayed objects.
Steinbach's art personifies the spectacle as its own product,
the total justification of the existing systelr.r's conditi<¡ns and

36
 goels-at every turn an ever-accelerating number of products
rvithin reach, under our noses, inviting endless choice and
making the decision of the consumer illuminate our culture's
own uninterrupted discourse about itself. The whole issue of
having to make choióes, of even knowing what one wants, is
really a bore, according to Baudrillár-d-a buidb¡ thaqrdeep
down insidE,ló óne secretly wants any par-t of. Íó*illuitráte
thii héimetic wisdóm, he recounts a siory-ábout Beau Brum-
mell, who, when traveling in a region of Scotland that has
many lakes, eaclr more beautiful than the other, turned to his
manservant and asked, "Vhich do I prefer?" "That people
are supposed to know, themselves, what they want-l think
rve have pressed beyond that point," he adds, "beyond truth,
beyond reality. " Commodity fetishism is the distinguishing
mark of our culture, and the artist's consciousness has been
fatally enriched with this knou'ledge. \
"lt is one thing to speak about this situation, it's
quite another matter to recognize how we participate emo-
tionally in this ecstasy, how we should monitor it," Stein-
bach stated at a symposium on "Avant-Garde A4jn tbe_9_Os,"
in which he and I participated at the Los Angeles County
--Museum in 1988. "We live in a culture of pornography, we
, are engulfed by.it, contáinEiliñ it.T6reno-t iilnding by
i tlie riverbank watching this excess of shit flow by, rather we
\are flowing with it, in it." \ühat would it take for an entire
-i6ciety
to recover from lhg ¡4d¡tlyg-g:stem in which we live?
There is little encouragement to change our orientation,
beca u se E6m6liliEt6ñilñ686ñli s wh a1 keeos ou r cu I ru re

-- going, .kaeirsutmg
'rppi'ta"uy
il t-,ilhÁ-¿lstoñionlor
i6-e-ñ-á?ket, where culture is itself disseminated as a product,
these distinctions, rather than being polarized, now cancel
each other out. Like Jeff Ko.-o!_sr_ Steinbach dissolves the dif-
ference between our deiire for commodities and our desire
for ei. G-flre'logii <fili-cómmoilty, objects have no rela-
tion to the u,orld, thev only have a relation to the market,
and such is the fate of our art: everything acts to commodify
consciousness. As for the ertist, we are never sure whether
she is the accomplice or the opponent of consumer culture,
s'hich promises that it is possible to have everything we want

37
 and need, as long as we accept end co¡rform to the system.
"On an emotional level," says Steinbach, "artists are rccog-
nizing the extreme state of ambivalcnce thcy find thenrselves
in, feeling revulsion and fascination at the samc time. They
also recognizc that this is not going to change. ... Aware
that our culture is excessively 1¡-tj!-q¡{,.and even rneaning-
lcss, *e iñoosc tllive in it. Wc üill a1 rimes use irony, mim-
icry'lü ?i,cu nrgckery,'i n oilcr1ó i-,lcntifi ll poriiit.,n wc
'-i --,--------'-
3re lll.
.. In Luxury and De cadence, a 1986 exhibition of
thc work of Jeff Koons, art signals itself as thc ultin.ratc cap-
italist metaphor. Koons took liquor decantcrs, emptied of
thcir bourbon, and cast them in stainless steel. Then he sent
them back to the distillery to be refilled with liquor and sealed
with a tax stamp. Should the decanters ever be opencd, or
the tax scal broken, the artist asserts, thcir idcntity as works
of art will be spoiled. To drink thc liquor is to take the work
out of the realm of art.
F-or Koons, almost anything can be used as a
symbol of false luxury-¿ travcling bar, a bust of Louis XIV,
;í-ir¡mn;ar¡"bbit, a gift-shop"rculptr.., some ludicrous
gimcrack cast in stainless steel by the artist to become anotlrer
fancy itcm gleaming on thc shelf or lockcd in thc display
case-not because it might still be used for something, but so
it can be assembled along with other specimens of the collec-
tion.
Kno that the fete of radical art isr-'iro
room, rs to rnten-
factorv situation ushing thi
Jittle-fur¡hg Chicago artist Tony Tasset design--liis art in
advance to 6t in easily and conrfortably with suburban liv-
ing, the context in which it will be consumed, and to blend
in nicely with the other furnishings. Using expe nsive mate-
rials such as leather and suede, Tasset's sculptures, ltke Seated
Abstraction, look like cushioncd furniture. His paintings,
which he refers to generically as "domestic abstractiorrs," are
made from fur or animal hide to simulate abstract pictures-
with maybe even a conveniont shelf added at the bottom to
hold cocktail glasses.

38
 "l don't think we take a critical stance," Meyer
Vaisman said recently to Claudia Hart, who interviewed him
in Artscribe. "l don't feel it is the responsibility of an artist
to judge whether a culture is good or evil.... But I believe
that the most interesting art thoroughly intersects the civili-
zation that it is in end exists with it." Nevertheless, he adds,
"l truly feel paralyzed. I don't see any chance right now for
'revolution-"'
Thus it is that postmodern parody does not claim
to speak from a position outside the parodied. For these art-
ists, it is important thet their works function in total com-
plicity with the context they are confronting and become
indistin guishable f rom it. Duplicity'q_!bg_JUUl9&j §en-
ch a.!t_ed, s_t-la thev have-Ílooted to reDla
of controntxtron and cn t. fAll objects must
ideology of consumerism and, under
its false dynamic, enjoy the same prestigious status; when an
entire society has become an addict, it becomes a closed sys-
tem that presents few choices to individuals in terms of the
the,v may take, or the directions they may pursue. At
- roles
thi; point, lt".dqrn in our society l.ras prrmar-
ilvV tne consumer's richt to
the consl
"lt is r oroughly vulgar metaphysic," states
Baudrillard. "And contemporary psychology, sociology and
economic science are all complicit in the fiasco. So the time
has come to deconstruct all the assumptive notions involved-
object, need, aspiration, consumption itsclf," which is what
this art tries to do. Deconstruction becomes the cheerful
orchestration of collapse, the cracked mirror of a culture where
products must continually replicate other products, where
artists become the author of someone else's work, and every-
thing competes within the same marketing system of seduc-
tive senselessness. "Don't buy us with apologies," goes the
slogen on one of Berbara Kruger's photomont ilrhop
theretore I am," stá commends another,
"it s'ill-chañge vor¡r life." Krr.rger sends back to the system
irs ou n prepackeged scripts, in the form of advertising codes
rh.rt h.rvc hecn inrt'nsifieJ anJ I,rillianrly elllqsesLln-K ru g-
er s sork. rronv fornlr e rc¡lrn prrrtcrplc unto ltsclt, no longer

39
 dynamic but the inert substance of the metter, what Charles
Ncwman refers to in his book 'fbe Pr¡st-Modarn Aura as the
I "rhetoric of tcrminality," the dcep suspicion, which post-
/ modernism hart:or., that we have only urrplcesenr choices-
f that we rnay alrcedy lrave sceri the bcst civilization has ro
loffer.
Is there, then, no way out of the alliance betwcen
capitalism and culture? Is dccor.rstruction thc only answer-
cultivating paradox and leaping, as it wcr,.., over one's own
shadow? Implosive strategies dcmand goirrg to extre¡nes-
until thc system dcvours its own en.rpty forms, absorbs its
own mcaning, creates a void and disappears. And so thcre is
a policy of going nowhere, of not occupying a position, of
hovering in placc, having no positive horizons, no goals, no
constructive alternltivcs. " Right away peoplc ask, 'What can
ou do with that?' " writes Baudrillard. But apparently, that
is just the poínr: there is nothing to be had from it. The only
thing you carr do is to let it run, all rhe way to thc end. How-
evcr, as Sylvére Lotringer conllncnts in his intervicw "Forget
Baudrillard," "there is a high price to pay in tcrms of emp-
tiness and discnchantment. Thcrc you rvill havc all tl.re seduc-
tion, and the sadness, of nihilism."

40
 ¡ --"j j'l
:. ,::,r.. I!
i,".
cuÁbiün ¿
LrenNlNc ro DRr,eu
The Remythologizing of Consciousness

xurmt [«unN]: I do not know uben you haue

had time to uisit all tbe countries you desoibe
to me. lt seems to me you haue neuer tnoued
from this garden.

[uenco] volo: Euerytbing I see and do

assurlte s meaning in a mental space tubere the
same calm reigns as here, the same penumbra,
tbe same silence streaked by the rustling of
leaues. At tbe moment when I concentrate and
reflect, I find myself again, always, in this gar'
den, at this hour of tbe euening, in your augrst
plesence, thouglt I contintte, witbout a
motnent's pause, mouing up a riuet green with
crocodiles or cotmting the barrels of sabed fish
being lowered into the hold.
I talo Caluino, Invisible Cities

ln places likc uniuersities, wbere eueryone ralÁl ¡\

too rationally, it is naccssary for a kind ,/ \\'\l
encbantcr to dppcar. I-
Joseph Beuys

41
 T
I've told you over and over," Don Juan says to
Carlos Castancdt in '[he lire from W itbin, " that bcing ro<;
rational is a handicap. Human bcings have a very deep scnsc
of nragic. We are part of the mystcrious. ... Sonrc of us,
howcvcr, havc grcat difficulty gcrring, undcrneath the surfacc
levcl; others do it with total ease." At the edge of a frozer.r
lake, a wornan dances herself into a visionary state. She wears
an extraordinary garrnent of raffia and string that transforms
her into the supernatural being shc is impersonaring. Her
presence in the landscape is like a numir.rous symbol of rvings
and flight, signifying the possibility of rransition into anorher
modc of being-the freedom to change situations, ro ebolish
a petrificd, or blocketl, system of conditiouing. Thc wonran
is Fern Shaffer, an artist frorn Chicago, cnrcting an empow-
erment ritual involving the cleansing of crystals, in the warers
of Lake Michigan at the winter solstice. The temperarure is
well below zero, and althoügh it is dawn in Chicago, rhc
scenc fecls ancicnt, from anothcr tinre.
Shaffcr's rituals are tl.re result of a collaboration
betwcen herself and thc photographer Othello Anderson,
which began widr the intention of n-rarking the pass.rgc of thc
seasonal equinoxes and solsticcs with spccial ccrenronies. "Thc
significance of what we do is to recn¡ct or rernqn-r-ler old
Gyñ-f -¡sat ¡s$¿-gá iilt,' ShTff?iliites.';Ailü/e a n c en t rh y t li m
i

;fi!-"*.; Ñ.rq---not exist:- anymore. - --

perform the
rituals to kéep the idea aliv¿:"
One of the peculiar J,crlcl9pl.l9I_t!.--tnl¡q-clUestern
world is that we are losing'óüiÍéñé of thq Jivi'1qJds ollit€,
oi th c p q
'particularLvg r -o I i m s aü
e i,: p il¡r,-li---.tiA;;il;[i"". f h.
structure of modcrn corrsciousncss, ccntcred in a
rationalizing, absrracting and controlling ego, detcrmines the
world we live in and how wc pcrceive and understand it;
without the magical sense of perccption, wc do not livc in a
magical world. We no longer have the ability to shift mind-
sets and thus to perceive other rcaliries-to rnove between
the worlds, as ancicnt shamans did. ltitual signifies that
sornething more is going on than mccts thc eye-something
sacred. For Shaffer, thc process o[ creating ¡ shama¡ric out6t
to wexr can bc likencd to crcating a cocoon, or alchcn.rical

4Z
 within which magical rransforma-
vessel, a contained place
tion can take place. Having a strong visual effect on the
environment is important, as is the inner willingness to trans-
tbrm-this is what makes any ritual come alive and have
porver. The important thing is whether a shift i!
. occrrrs, creatlng a polnt o l-en opening fq14.umi-
nous or magrcal exDgnerice fltat can never a obtained bv
cu lrir.atingT:iiEllettuat§killsl thé wórld of magical
ical perception
oercention
has to be eiploiéd eiperíéntially, with wholéhearied pirtic-
ipation of the entire being. Shaffer writes:

Thrs ceremonv wes hcld at sunrise. We mer ¡t the lekl

iront ¡t 5 ,q.Nl. It *¡s rninus 35 tlegrees wirh a windchill /
íector of minus ll0 dcgrees.'We seem to heve gone into 1

rnother time zone. We moved rhrough the space very I

slorvlr'. I washcd rhe crystals in the Lake, putting my I

h¡nds in tlre water. Othello used three cameras; two froze I

completelv ¡nd the 6lm in the third camera split. It was I

verv cold and yet Othcllo and I were not affected by it.--l

ll§figft-cfotÍA were ofren the means whereby

.hamans pa-sE<Ifroñ oñelorld to the other in order to achiev'e
:he necessarv communication with spirits-perhaps a cap of
r'egle and orvl fcathers, or a cloak adorned with ribbons and
sruíied snakes. This "sacred wardrobe" acts as a lure for
rpirits: it serves as the means for accessing alternate states of
;6¡56i6r¡ 5¡¿55-a traditional means of obtaining knowledge
rn shamanic cultures-which can lead to transformation and
healing. In our culrure it is no easy task to accept the validity
of erperiences that are called "visionary." The modern per-
.on¡lrt]'is much more respectful of the rational aspects of
:he ps1'che. Ve have no prescribed way to do the vision quest,
no ceremonies for meeting the gods in the magic circle; the
i¡culries s'ith rvhich we might have ioined them have atro-
phied. Those lr'ho rvant to learn to enter the "Dreamtime"
rod¡v in order ro initiate healing have to 6nd ways of effect-
rnq a relerse of archetypel memory that predates the loss of
our inteqration rvith natr¡re. But for this, we have to get rid
of shat a iriend of mine calls our "corvboy arrogance" toward

43
i tie magical, my¡[g]agical end feminine_q¡r-dgs rhar arc unac-
/
ceptablet:Ig!9!4ggl.sd!l .91'.i rsrlg"L:v¡l.h bel eves i

J
onry ln surface reallty. I hcse other modcls of realiry_vision
I outside of thc ego's conrrol, vision rooted in the soul_wcrc
left behind by rhe rational and.scicnrific logic of the Enlight-
enment, and need to be reclaimed by our culiurc. The princ"ipal
function of the shaman is magical healing and soul-Árri.ral;
soul-loss, once rrgardcd as rhó gravcst ofáll illncsses, is nevcr
mentioned in Western medical books.
During the spring equinox in 1,9g6, Shaffer wen¡
to Cahokia- Mounds, lllinois, to perfo rm Spiral Dance at an
ancient Indian site sometimes referred to as Wood Henge,
where.archaeologists_ have d_iscovered a series of pits thorgii
to be the ruins of a solar clock similar to Stonehenge. Arran[e<1
in. the shape of a circle, the pits have been 6llej in receritly
with wooden poles to_replace the original ones ¡hat were pre-
viously there. rü&en Shaffer and.Andérson firsr saw rhe páles,
they felt they should iniriate thern and l¡less rhe grounds.
"l wrapped string rope around the óurer post,,,
Shaffer writes, "and thcn blgan unwinJing the string in
clockwise fashion, doing rhis ipiral dance. Ás the universe
uuwrnds, so did I. I was rrying to awaken the spirits from
this place." Farther on, there wás a kind of remple to the sky,
but with_ no walls, roofless and be reft of statrai. Th" t"-pié
is very_old; it is, they say, a tomb; whose, no o.,..rn remem_
ber. The stairs lead to the top of a very large ceremonial
mound; and perhaps in times now forgoiten iribal initiates
came in procession up rhis staircase to perform rites. Shaffer
-
says about her own work with ritual:

Thc expcrience begins with I fccling, I scnse of somc_

thtng that wants to oratcrixlize itscll. Wc fccl thar we arc
lt a loss, -there ere n«_r guidchncs, no instructions, we
have to rely on our inner st.lvcs for direction. lnform¡_
tiorr appeaE. an openirig of rlic scñsci,1tring.; ,,r.i io
fall into place, ideas. mt¡vements and gcsturcsl Power is
emanating fronr rhe area, it is Iikc stepping inro a source
ot energy. I hrs energy starts to ccntralizc and condense,
ir.takes a form. A mystical mctarnorphusis sr¿rrs to take
placc....

44
 If I am able to rediscover my own 6rst expe-
rience of the basic'spiritual exisrence with narure,
it might
help others rediscover and honor the same thtngs in
themselves. It does not matter that I possess no expert
training or special knowledge, only the abiliry to open
up and channel the intuition of my own self. I would let
my experience of the primitive pattern of creation speak
for me, since I have taken part in the most ancient work-
ings of the human spirit. I am merely bridging the pat-
terns of things from the past to now. What the world
Iacks today is not so much knowledge of these things of
the spirit as experience of them. Experiencing the spirit
is ¡ll. To believe is okay, but a personal experience is
better, a direct feeling with something. You can gall it a
shamanic state if you'like.

For both Sh¡ffer and Anderson,, the experience of

being out in nature is what rhe rituals signify; within the
participating aml¡ience of earlier world views and ancient
cosmology, a lost sense of oneness with nature and an acute
awareness of the ecosystem is opened up. One of the attrac-
tions of shamanism for modern individuals is that it appears
to provide a possible basis for reharmonizing our -
.
anc. r"latiqr,'ship *ith natrre, w t
just now- The shaman can hear the voice of the stones and
trees that are speaking-the voices of things nnheard to us
all. The shaman does not live in a mechanical, disenchanted
world, but in an enchanted one, comprised of multiple, com-
plex, living, interacting systems. Modern man, however, has
left the realm of the unknown and thc mysterious, and settled
dorvn in the realm of the functional and the routine. The
u.orld as an emanation of spirit, of visionary powers and
mvthical archetypes, is not congruent with the world of
mechanization, rvhicl.r requires matter-of-factness as the pre-
vailing attitude of mind. As Peter Hallqy puts it:

Ir rs the essence of modern consciousness to be irrevoc-

¡ blv strLrctured lrv the technological aspects of industrial
tproduction. The individuel of tod.ry rr¡nsfers the engi-
I neering erhos of modern technology and bureaucracy to
]his personal consciousness ¡nd emotional life. This ethos,

45
 ,r trt['-..'
'.
ir\ir'" ,11'A ¡:
1,, I

if!ta characterizcd by rncchanicirlncss, rcprorlucibility and

mcasurability, produccs in consciousness the.tráits of
abstraction, functional rationality rn,l lnr,.r,.,"n,riiry.'

. Every
culrure lives by mytlr, according to
Jung_
ore myrh or another. Mcch¡nisri.l vision is tLJ.heerlIss,
clockw.ork way we have been conditioned tu i"" tt.
,.singlc_tra.k"d,,
*,r.la
through the myth of science, as a un,u..r..
Since the. Enlightennrent, our vicw of íhat is .eal
has be.n
organized around the hegernony of ¿ technologifal
and
mare-rialist world view, whñh h¡s'clinrinJred lrom
i. rnrp oI
means rhrough which ro ktep visionary encrgy
l:,1ilry_-ilry
al¡ve. I hc vls¡onary function, which fulfills the soúl,s
neid
tor placrng itsclf in the vast scheme of things, has been sup-
pressed, with thc result thar as a culrure, *""h"u"
io.i rfr" gif,
of vision. We have I lgi..at *oild of_or.lr"
-t¡rpal,myth and .s)¿nr bol,-the_\yorld o f di; Dr*".A-".,,
.l

Our prevailing sensc of discnchxn rnrcnr, a legacy

from the modern industrial agc, is not sirnply a mericr of
the
intellect; by now it has been into'olr pc1¡g¡e]gel
attitudes and behaviors. As M¡x _woven
Wcber cl¡ imed,\¡n yrtict sm
lval-oirt-9,fIgg_v1L.rl!o!g¡11o_ so if
rcareo trs nead, somcrhlng was goir.rg awry. Thc "uerilfrtiñ.
dcath of the
spirit, tlre ampurarior) o,f_ih e_pel, rh-" rer,i. rhat all ouigods
are deetl: rhesc arc thgrhrg¡li!í
¡[:rlhvc_bcur pr.ogrammeJ
tggiv_c-¡.ry!_r,rreceill6l6ü.irl_iui-l_o-.1.*f
mizingcerrai¡_¡¿4vs_of
¡'¿,,,5 Lcrr4ur_!!:4y!_!¿L r(lqty.lng
,"ü"f,;
knqryingr"¡_d¡zu-¡iry,rS_",h;
ancl_g§quahtylng others. But,
as thr'cnt¡c Irving Howe oncc wrote, the death of the gods
wo_,uld not us so much if we, in dir.ou"ri,rg Ártlh"y
lrouble
did
l,{q"d, not havc ro die alongside tlr... i'h.tlus of
myth. the assunlption ther the only velid-úavs ol knowiio
nJpro loss of moral
meaning for life. Arch elncs glve t0rm
our as a.culrure, ü-e h¡vc fallcn our of mclning,
l1l..lr,,,,ng:,
le-aving only tl.re dreariness of calculated, ,r..hrni.ri-p.o..rr.
\7e are so_ incredibly addicted to ratioial 'p..."p-
-oa"r-of
tion rhar if we are ever to change rhe basis of ort.
and correcr whar quantum phy"sicist Orri¡ Uoll,r-r "*p".,"n.a
Áír.allea
an "enrr¡rned mistake" of the whole culture_our overiden-

46
lV-' , ttt(F(tolJ (oN l¿A(iJpfittS¡1O
' - l': 't-t- ''- ) '/ -
tiñcation u,ith rationalism-we will need to go beyond the
limiting netterns built up by our present environment and
renew our connection -*@ *ith
the soul and its magical world of images. This is no simple
t ¡ s k f o r th e m.' d c rn i n d i v idr_r {-!r_esa_use a ntrhe{§Ii6i-pécü-

_lrar developments_in our )Uestern world is that we no longer

h ¡\'c anv sense o óhñiori*iit".-in
\\'e. ñe are asked what the soul is, our minds go blank.
The rvord soal calls up neither feeling nor image. ... \We
have pursued our masculine extroverted values for so long
¡hat s'e have come to see the soul as an unnecessary compli-
c¡¡ion in an otherwise neat and tidy masculine world." To
be able to shift from logical, Iinear modes of knowing into
¡he collective dreambody, one must begin by separating one-
self to some extent from the world of ordinary, everyday
activiries, in ordcr to find that inner center of archetypal energy
contained in myth that has been made by our society to seem
a rchaic.

It is not a matter of imitate an archaic

cultural stvle so much a§

* hose mind-set has made the very idea of other worlds

un¡hinkable. Ritual, dn¡mming, monotonous chanting,
I¡ tl\'e mQlements, are no rtotm
_iife-hut ¡hev are a sure wxy to m a kET-tfi rect hii-ó-n
-dreaming" aspect of the psyche. "lülren we retrieve this
'..rsion.- Tvrites the philosopher David Michael Levin in The
Ooenn¡q of Vision, "making it explicit, bringing it to light,
:he consensuallv legitimated vision of the social ego is radi-
¡¡llv called into question." So is the loyalty to only one way
oi seeing things to the exclusion of others.
\l.rnv.|-)-.-
oeonle helieve that enterins the
::rodclrs romentrc or reqressrve end texr rt wlll d
¡rrir from the .i',orld oi -o, consclousness g them tl
in ¡rch.ric states that are unsuitat'lc to contemporary life.
C(rtrrnlv it is rhe case that rhe rrtist ¡v..!¡o survives/best in
contemporan' Téft:ñ'Eñ-isF6le-lculrure,iil6se Á[ñlles calls
it in his book 77-,¿ Transfonratiue Vision, is usually the one
rr'ho intcrnalizes and adopts its rational values. One of the

tl ? ,l),-',t i' l .ul. l! '-::t)

I
Jr'i:r:r( -
+/
¡) 1 1'r 't i '"'
tasks t¡f tlre " reenclr ¡ nrmcrr r ple;gcl," ¡s I dc6 ne ir lrert.. is to
dcasc to bc ñypñnTzi'Jty-rli.: ñiionu I brrs uf sUesrcnr \(,cr-
cty, through dcvcloping a more opcn nrodcl of the psyche, so
that es a culturc we cJrr recovcr thc .rbrlitv to "drcern tor-
ward" and reclaim the
'need
p6ñiirJ iinp,rrr,ince ot'ri"ioriWc
to dissolve rhe dispassionate patriarchal consciousness,
which has becorne increasingly r.naladaprive to rhe na¡ural
and commullal world. Thc remytholoflizing of consciousness
through art and ritual is onc way that our culturc can rcgrin
a sensc of cnchantment. Trancc nrethods ¿nd sha¡nanic expc-
riences are ways of dissolving tl.rc bour.rdaries of our ou.n
system, in order to break thc hold our sociery's picture of the
world has on us.
This dying to t[e wór_ld-,of ratio!alityJ rvhilb
awakening to powcrful archctypal forces in thc vrsionrry
world, can be a treacherous busincss, as attcsted to by Jos.
A. Smith, a Ncw York artisr who has bcen using tññ-e-hs an
avcnue into tlre unconscir¡us for nrany y.ái;L,=t.rrñc, i"h"n
the ego-personality is temporarily displaced, the rnrnd expe-
riences another world from tl.re evcryday world, *'here ir.rside
is not separated from outside aud a spontaneous cxperienc-
ing of presences that do not belong to the ordinary world
seems to occur. Smith has studied nrany ncin-drug-induccd
techniqucs for altering consciousncss, which hc employs in
combination with Jain meditation, practiccs frou.r the n.rarti¡rl
arts and visualizing techniqucs learncd fron.r the Nyingnra
Ordcr of Til¡etan Iluddhisrn. He has also traincd himself to
draw rvith grcat precision tháIx-pcrie ncilFrc has in trance
states. Pricst of Dark Flight, encounrcrcd during onc of Smirh's
shamanic journeys, is a startlingly numinous figure from
another world-ambivalent, perilous, unpredictable, with
clairvoyar.rt eyes. The rational rnind is likcly to dismiss such
an apparition as hallucination or illusior.r, but to shamanic
consciousncss it is totally, and cven terrifyingly, real. Smith
writes:

The 6rst tinre I saw Cuardian of thcDeepest Cal¿ it was

standing on a ¡n¿ndala that had a continuously shifting
and changing image. It held a shicld madc of twisted
roots that formcd a mouth. Thc nlouth wes strctchcd

48
 oprn ln(.1 it § r.rs screeming in an endlcss stream of sound
rh.rr rr'¡s prin nnd anger and fear all intertwined. I heard
.r r oice thrt secmccl to c<¡me from no particular direction
i.rving. "This is thc guardian of thc deepest gate." I knew
,,r rrhoLrt l.cing told thrt nt some point I have to pass it.

\\'hen I tlo. I rvill be on a levcl of mind that I havc never

e\f!.ricnced, a totelly diffcrent norld. It obviously entails
.rnothrr dcrth bcvond the vcry realistic one I experience
rrhc'n Ientcr a deep trance. Irv¡s too afraid to go farther
:¡:h.rr timc.

.ft-|9S.l]f!q:-pt Üonce said, mythology is no

:--ll.-.1.
. : ¡hrltlren. Yhcn we ¡rt'lnvitecl to ioin the obiect of
,:
,n rhc othcr.world, the transformltioir of the person-
: :-. ¡(ion]cs a living cxperience, end we encounter some-
:-:: ih.rr c.rnnot be receivcd on a theoretical basis, or
- -:- , .cJ hv r¡rion¡l explan¡don. Vhen this happens, ancient
' --. ,,i conscior¡sncss [regin to acquire rn importence and
-..:- r: br-\'on(l tlre purely historical, es we discover them
.'. ::::r,,'.rr on n psvchc. The grcat scholar of comparxtive
-. r:: j:r -\lircL'¡ Eliadc once s:lid that it is not enough, rs ir
.,.:. ::lr .r ccnturv ago, -to, d iscoi,ell rl ü_d-m ire- the art of the
:- . :::,, !'i: rr'e h¡ve to discovi'iihe sor¡rces of these aitiin
..::JI'.. \() tl'rirt we c'¡n l¡ecoi¡ie iw¡ré of whit it i§, in e
- j::: erisrcncc, that is still "mythical" and that survivcs
- . .,. l.rrr ,,i ¡hc hr¡nren contfiiiJñ-
-'\ r.' rhese things real? Do they actuxlly heppen ?
- i¡r inJilitlL¡¡ls is what they interact with every day,
:lr., :hink ¡[¡out. There lrave always been people in
. :-:l:.rr.. *'ho possess the ebility to cross invisible thresh-
. ::,, :i:c rrn\('r-n. r\ voung Incclicine mln in training, tell-
:::. initi.rtion in an Australian tritre, remarks to
:,, ,,¡i.: l-ucie n Leivi-Bruhl: "After that I used to see
. :::.:: :lrr nrothcr coLrlcl lrot scc. \ü7hcn olrt with her I
..r'. .\lrr:ht-r. rvh¡t is th¡t or.rt tlrere yonder?'She ¡-rsed
. L:r..1. rhc'rc is nothing.'Thcse wcre thc llr (ghosts),
I i-¡.':.r'r :¡, .cc. Thc f:rct thlt thcy cannot bc scen b¡,
¡!:irJn\ onlr means that they are not gifted with
¡,ru cr. .rnJ not that it is not there."

19
)Lllltti(t)ii !'ltttt ¡i ltit'J tttti /t

ln 1927, Sigmund Fre ud cleclared in Tl¡e Future

of an Illusion that r¡rodern individuals had finally enrcrged
from superstitious ignorancc. "We think we ought to believe
because our forefatl.rers bclieved," hc wrote. "l-lut thesc
iurccstors of ours wcrc far nrorc ignorlnt than wc arc. They
belicved in things wc could not possibly accept today." Carl
J@s always nrore open-tlñii
Frcud in his attitudc to thc value of mythical cxpcricncc, and
to thc soul as a psychological reality, wrote in The Structure
and Dynantics of tbe Psychc:

It is gcrrcrally assur»cd that thc sccing of ,ppr,iril.,,,, i,

far commoner among primitivcs than among civilizcd
people. . . .ln my vicw. . . psychic phenomena occur no
less frequently with civilized pcoplc than they do with
primitives. I am convinced thlt if a European had to go
through the same exerciscs and ccremonics which the
medicine-nrln perfornrs in order to make spirits visible,
he would have the sarne experiences. Hc would intcrprer
them diffcrcnrly, of course, and devalue thcm, but this
would n<¡t altcr the facts as such.

Primitive m¡n's inclination toward the mytlric and

the supernatural was not, as Freud (and others) heve claimed,
tl.re result of cognitive infcriority, or wish-fulfilling delusions
that wc have now outgrown. Rather it was an alternativc
modc of consciousness iLat undcrstands tlre .lvt¡rld-I"llacr"d
manner. lJecause it corresponds to somcthing universal in the
collective unconscious, it remains with us, evcn though our
own cultural responsc has been to deny and reprcss this mode.
\i7e are finally beginning to understrnd that it may havc
something crucial to tc:¡ch us about our own "contingency
sickness," a disorder of the nrodern lvorld that results from
being deprivcd of meaningful ritual or any contact rvith the
great archetypes that nourisl¡ thc life of the st¡ul. This sha-
manic insight is very irnportant just now, because rvc havc
lost any sense that ritual is inrportant. In accepting thar sci-
ence has the one true vision, the only relieblc explanation of
reality, we have also lost contact with the he:rling porver of

50
mvth ¡nd thc transformative potential of nonordinary states
of consciousness. The physician Larry Dossey makes tÉe point
verv rvell in his essay "'fl.re Inner Life of the Healer":

Vhat rve dcsperatclv need from shnmanism is far more

important than the slraman's trappings: it is the so¡rl of
thc healcr rve neecl to recovcr, for that is what we hrve
lost. . . . "Soul" is l ner¡, mode of awareness . . . a way
ol seerng tlrilt rescues flll Ol lrfe trom the stenle vecurty
t h i f h Cs h?co rñe s y n ó ñ v m ó-Li i wi th"m q@n t-fr TITTEi s,
r

thrn, is rhe great leg¡cy of shamrnism for the modern

healer; a rvav to nrake life ¡live; a way to discover that
the rvorld is enchanted and not dead.
_I,
r,

What heppens to a culture without a living t /

rnvthology is th:ri it gct.s'elIdñte¿l to-ñhetever ¡ffis Th-e i /
pxin-of árchetvpal §tirv¡tion end ihd Vá¿uüiñ- ó-f me¡ñing. u '
Opening one's vision in this rvay to a greater transpersonal
realnr, which clefies control and rational description, is to see
beyond the retarded boundaries and destitution of our pre-
sent svstem. '![ith hands grounded in earth and hay," writes
Rachel Dutton, an artist from California, "l was able to enter
the immense fertility of the dream world directly through my
art. I crossed over into a land far older than my dreams,
rvhere I felt echoes of other ancestors, clusters of innumera-
ble anirnals, birds, insects, fish, secreting, weaving, digging."
Dutton's sculptures resonate with a genetic memory of the
ancestral animal chain, as it is woven into the cells and tis-
sues of our hody. Frorn this dream memory emerged such
unusu¡l rvorks as First Motbcrs a.nd Feet of Song, which by
no stretch of the imagination can be seen as iogos figures.
\\/hen tlre First Mothers entered creation, they learned to make
peper nests, and their sharp eyes would have seen rhe great
lizards, forests of ferns, dnylong rwilight under constanr cloucls.
As atavistic holcler of primitive life energies, Taurus wa,s
looking for his twin whcn he was separated from the umbil-
ical cord by which he was attaclred at the collarbone. The
signs he marks with his pews are rhe signs we must live by
thet dar'. Feet of Song danced under our fields until he spat

.51
out the stoncs, thc points and thc jurrctures of the world. His
skin is black, and his ¡rms arc without cll¡tlws or wrists. He
talks with his feet, and the world víbrates, it shifts from one
foot to anothcr; it shakcs, it dances its dance.
Ijor Dutton, thc repeated gesturcs oÍ bundling and
tying hay around an armaturc, of kneading and shaping mud
and, later, of coating it all with papier-máché, takes on it
ritual quality, whilc the gestures of her figures arc frequentlv
inlluenced by her experience as a d¡uccr.

'When
I work [says Dutton], t fccl a kinship with ancict.tt
working rhythnrs, rvith tt.¡te m buildcrs of early primitive
socictics, with a¡rcestral t¡cn:orics fronr dccp tinrc, sim-
ple conrnon nrctnorics bclow the thrcshold of myth-
thc rolling motion of ir hip joint as r.r'cight is shiftctl from
onc lcg to anothcr, thc coolt¡css r.¡f sh¿dow on skin, rhe
hcat of rhe day radiating from hard, packcd qarth at
twilight.

ln the visionary n.rode, myths fro¡n all rimes and

cultures are available to us; we touch into a scemingly mag-
ical dimension from which emanatcs a se nsc of the rnystcri-
ous and the sacred; we have cxperiential acccss to the past
or the future, and thc limitations of our cultur¡i condrtioning
are transccnded. Visionary seeing is a forcc against the literal
mind, which believes that things are otrly ¿s they appcar. [t
is a movement into a larger, tinrclcss dir¡¡ension that honors,
from the deepest levels of consci<>usncss, our corlncction with
archetypal forccs antl powers beyond thc local self' lVlost of
the neuioses an,i thc vicuurn t¡l nrcaninq frorn whLclr wiJiF-
--v'.

fer resuli fro¡n an isoláiion oI-thc ego-tlri'.ú f','r¡ thc archc-

typal-ü¡ctiñCiou§accordir-rslÚ!'ñ-.Socicti"si,riiirv,
found their deepest válüó aird sense of nrcening trlrimately in
----:

this realm of the mythic and the transcendental- J uug-c+crr

wJll-tlolar-asloclai¡n-ür.Ul¡Iths are:r¡19.t§-§u§rar¡ring in our
lives rhrn ec,rnornic security. Science is based on the objec-
tivc weighing of fact a¡-ü detail, a nrodc of "sceing without
imagination," whcreas myth is not fully understood unless
onc entcrs into a nonlincar, non-Cartcsian st:rte. lt is this

52
 merging, or dissolution, into a larger, more encompassing
identity than the rationalized ego-self thrt is now felt to be
necessory by many people, in order for social transformation
to take place in our time. The modern challenge is to again
6 n d;e cred¡g.ss-wi th ia_tIg ]¡/g recover
ro somehow get p-a-st what George Steiner
as "the age of embarrassrnent ábout
-n-óus.- ihé-collective unconscioüiness: emBlir¡ssmeññ6ñi
nous, tne..
-_-owning.to
our inner world, triñ-dcen denlái-áx'pene-rrcá, mys-
teries ind magnani mities.'l Oui m*ácháñ isiil,- nr:riéilá'liitic,
detéiministic treditions have eliminated any reliance on the
invisible as being true or trustworthy-we only rely on what
rve see and know.
An opcning to what we can't quite see-that is,
to the mysterious rehlm-t¡nderlies the nature paintings of
Gi.b!_VS]lúl1fsch, a painter, writer and photographer from
pictures like
ñre in a fire-opal. You feel it in the glisten of fermented light,
dancing like burnished copper through the trees-a special
kind of aliveness in which trees talk to one another in the
forest; in the wind, they bend as one. Sometimes, in Hirsch's
paintings, trees cven learn to fly. Since 1981, the artist has
been spending long periods of time alone in wild places; for
her, nature is an ecstatic living presence, teeming with ele-
mental spirits. Th-e_sq!-4:l_¡yr-¡ !qal_te!-19y-_'¡lg_\¡t!Cg!9ss,
fecine the unknown in totel isolation, h¡s ¡lwavibEn a clas-
sic:Fa?t óf sham¡nic rraining, since ir engeges one directly
rvirh fear; the intensity of the experience can often dissolve
ego-boundaries that normally separate inner from outer.
Hirsch writes about her time alone in nature:

I immcrscd myself dceply into the ferociously dramatic

Iandscape. Alone I hiked into the rvilderness, onto the
glaciers, into the forests and mountains miles and miles
awav from any lrumln contlct. Fearlcssly, I inundated
myself rvith the depth and immensity of natural phe-
nomena as I explored the often dangerous trails alone.
Scalc had to be rcdcfinccl. My nornral understanding of
concepts such as vast, huge, immense, no longer ran true.

53
 I hecl ro rcshapc thc colr']p¿rtnrcnts of nry mind to
accommodltc a ncw world vrcr.r,. I wrlkcd w,ith ¡rorcu-
pines, wolves, n:arnrots, clk, decr, ntoose encl be¡r. I hikcd
in rainstorms.... f clinrlrcd nrountlrins in August snorv
blizzards. I roamcd i¡r fecurrd ruoulrtnin mc:rdows in
brcathtakingly clcar cantaloupe light, my fcrtile vision
sharpened to the point of ccstásy. Oftcr.r I crossed the
Boundary. . . . I felt my controllcd ¡rcrson:rlitv disasso-
ciate into myriad componcnts of archetypal voices. ln
that prinral soup of nature, far f¿r from lruman contact
...1 began to fccl myself ¿n cmbodimcnt of n¡rurc. I
livcd in rn ¡ltcrcd strrlc. I wes essenrr¡llv schizt¡olrrcnic
AS ITI' psychc shr¿nk rrnrl swcllñf wFcnTiñ$iltl-i»n
turc to natu
leirr¡red the differencc n
ishrncñt-oro a¡rd te

This is not the "ob¡ccnve" knowlcdge of thc

spectator obscrving at a distancc, analyzing, or describing
without being drawn in. Rather, it is sacred ego-dcconstruc-
tion-a practice not to be undertaken lightly-in which the
self experiences directly the dccp conncction between rhe
human world, thc plant world and thc aninlal world. One is
no longer just looking ar rhe rrce, enioying it through one's
senses: one has become tlre trcc. When we experiencc the
world as our own bocly, illusions of duality dissolve, and
with them, old assurnptions about a distinct and separate
cgo-self codifi ed by our culturc. C,qlürd-alrd-lropqlggsr Joan
U+1üsli-lry!!qt, " Whe n you reach very deep states of con-
sciousness, you see that the mind includcs not only the entirc
nervous system, but the cntire cosmos. Our mind in irs
extended form can actually pcrceive anywhere, ¿nything and
any time.... Let's face it, our mind is a much nrore arricu-
lated and extensive organ than most of us realize. . .. ln
visionary states, you access some of these potentialities. "
It is the essence of modcrn ¿lienation that we are
bewitched by our particular vision of se parxreness-rhe
n.rechanistic idea that we can know the world only from the
outside, by distancing ourselves from it. Cirrrcsian dualism

54
sees no connection between the ve world of thought
andihe objective, outelwq¡!!.-Today, at the lng of
sii.:nce, medicine, biology and psychology, this dualistic,
Cartesian subject versus object model of cognition-the world
system that emerged in the Renaissance-is being replaced
by a new pictuqe,, w_hich sees the inner and outer world as a
-iffiyche
lo_ntrnuum. This-iundamentál Cóntíñññy and cos-
mos aiters the traditional sense of mind as subjective, private
and "in here," and of world xs external, objective and "out
there." As experimental findings in quantum mechanics are
propelling many scientists into the "spiritual change" of
thinking more holistically, even science I.ras begun to tran-
scend the mechanistic model, reframing itself in terms that
acknowlcdge the interconnectedness of all life. These new
relational and process ideas, however, can hardly be said to
have penetrated very deeply into the consciousness of our
culture, or the ways we th ink about art.
Ultimately, it is the visionary self-the form of
c<¡nsciot¡sncss that has been discredited and suppressed in
modcrn society-that is able to see this fundamental unity as
rvell as the dualitv of existence. [n the nondurlistic view,
everything in the universe is understood as dancing energy_
patterns intcrweaving a single continuum. As for us, we are /
not just observers of the pattern br¡t its cocreators; and our I
relationship with nature is not that of something external I
and indcpendent of ourselves.
Among all the art that I have so far discussed,
-)
there is a single sculpture called Manscape by Richard
Rosenblum that sums up for me, better than anything else I
know, this manifestation of our interrelatednes¡-the way we
are woven into the living processes of the planet itself. In
Rosen b I u m's scu.lpture*t_b e-fgtue_o-f
walking-lqlldicape. The bounda-ry-he¡r¡¿een-self¡¡d-r¡¿orld
lras been dissolvcd so that eve,ryth.ilg9úsin-¡-rtat"
erythi
everythi of rad-
-
ical rnterpené-q¡ti-on. l{osenblirm,-lñlilves and works in
Newton, Massachusetts, transform§_th-g_roots-oldead-rrees
into e forni r,fuisiffi¿ scrrl¡1¡u(e, wbich h e_!.!ED-Sa§!Lin
bronze- Sensing hinlself in an artistic no-m¡n's land between
traclitional 6guretive sculpture and con stru ctiv ist' a bstracrion

55
 )

a few years ago, Roscnblum asked himself the question, "Car.r

one make a figure which is neither naruralisric nor construc-
'--tivist?" The answer came from studying Chinese rock sculp-
- ture. Foithé'Chiiiése, rocks contain concentretions ol_ene¡gy

with a hirlJen lile; Chincse who mcJirere on rocks see miero-

-universe.
cosmlbf the Like the r(ec roors for Rosenblum,
rocks are experienced as alive and ensouled by the Chinese.
Therc is a subtlc awakcning to ecsrasy in I{oscn-
blum's sculptures, as when, tilting, or sometimes balancing
on a single leg, these figures seem to see through the earth's
eyes. Uprootedness is part of modern alienation; Rosenblunr
creates a metaphor of belongingness, of rerooting ourselves
in the universal bond of biological cxisrence-the bodily uniry
of ourselves and the world. Manscape, in particular, recon-
nects us with this prima materia of rhe earth, and thc dark
chthonic regions un<ler thc carth. Frol¡ it we learn that mat-
ter can give birth, and this is alrcady a rcal lrit a! lbe fSrclrdfic
idgq _¡hat .!Bt!e! !§ ¡I,q.t, pqgq¡yC, unconscious. Each of
Rosenblum's sculpturcs cornmunic:rtcs e piofountl expen-
ence of being grounded in the earth's energv.
In her book Dreaming the Dark, Starhawk speaks
of the need for images of Father Earrh-an in.ragc prevalent
at one time in the mythology of earth religions:

Father Earth is the God who is picured crowned with

leaves and twined with vines, the spirit of vegetarion,
growing things, thc forest. The image says, "txpericnce
this: yotr .rrc rooted in earth, know the torce rh¡t nvines
upward-how it is to flower, ro swell into fruit, to ripen
in the sun, to drop leaves, to ferment, to be intoxiccting.
Know the cyclc, over and over; you are not apart from
\ it. It is the sourcc of your lifc."

't\,,t\L"
''
^ilL'. For me, the work of these artists bears evidence
,bV that the sickness of our time is not tl.re absencc of mythic
vision, which is ever present in tlie unconscious, but oui cul-
ture's denial that it exrsts, or has any significance for modern
life. Bur-rt-wouid be a mistaE-toiupposc rhat our presenr
-iááls,
in which thinking is separatecl frlm feehng, are-ro«¡ted

56
 - lc:t " l'tl.t tl tÓ¡JCtllr(tl'
- ,,1t',,t 4t iLTO -tE?rttA I:,r ¿r,,,
..
once and for all in man's naturel or even tlrat the organiza-/r,
,,

tion of our thinking is set for all time in the rational hemi-
sphere of rhe brain. Different organizations may be possible
in the future, just as they have been in the past, with a more
nrediated harmonv between the two modes than presently
exists. Our cepncity for lrelattiln?ss-emanates from the femi-
nine sid'e_of-t$-piyche. Im¡Ees rhLlpáak io-thlbond of
connectedness and -hallenge the dualistic consciousness of
the modern world system create a brcak in the boundaries
that cncapsrrlate our current consciousness. Alienation is our)
pecr¡lier form of ríltionÍl detachment, codi6edEy-tlñ-icñn- |
ii6c ánirude oiiñe Rt-cñársilñ¡e-nffi-elá yet ro Jiscover wEar i
'new
"wirings;; ire poslU-i-when the vísionary enters into -
active collaboration with the rational, when we leerq to shift
from one mode to the other, realizing the dual masculine and
feminine nature of psyche and personifying both sets of
capacities and strengths.
The remythologizing of consciousness, thcn, is not
a regressive plunge into the premodern world; we are all being
drxwn to "the multisensory_phase of evoluion," as the next
step in the evohitiol óf?onióinusnlñ. ir"tt .r, it represents a
change in how the modern self perceives who it truly is, when
it stretches back and contacts much vaster realities than the
present-day consumer system of our addicted industrial soci-
eties. As Anne Wilson Schaef points out in When Society
I)ccomcs an Addict, our belief in the addictive system as the
only realitv is itsclf the illusion making us believe tlrere is no
other reality. Thc loss of or¡r visionary being has led us into
addictive functioning; and the addictive natlrre of consumer
society separates us from an awareness of ourselves as
visionary beings. To move toward recovery, we must admit
¡ddiction on a systemic lcvel and move beyond our own par-
ticipation in this disease process. W'e must see our present
culrure for rvhet it is: an addictive system. Transpersonal
psvchiatrist Stanislav Crof makes a similar assertion, in an
essrv entitIcd "SpirinreIitv_,-A44i.,tLgn qSl]YC§!g!§eL"J,..",

In rhc l¡st an:rllsis, the 'cholocical roors of the crisis

hu manitr' r. i.rcrnq on e obal scale Ieenr tó-llé in the

57
 loss of rhc spiritu¡l p,-e¡Spcctivc. Si¡rce r lrrrmo¡rious
cxpcrience of lifc rec¡uires, ilnro¡rg othcr things, fulfill-
ment of transcendent.rl nccds, ¡ culrurc that has denied
spirituality and h¡s lt¡st access to the transpersonal
dimensions of cxistcncc is cft¡o¡ncd o f¡ilurc in ell c¡ther
avenucs of its activitics.

For those committed to thL'status quo, who pre-

fer the standard view of things and cannot take this discus-
sion scriously, the linrousine siops at the Ritz. But those rvho
are willing to ride the grcat :ince stral tortoise through some
vertiginous country may still see, in places dcclarcd invisible
and behind the levels of rationality reached in the modern
world, a concentric ring of 6re licking the walls. Once you
experience this reality, you bcgin to understand the percep.
tual bias of rJüestern industrial society. It may well be that
this garden exists, as Marco Polo claims, only in the shadow
of our lowered eyelids, but each time we half-close our eyes,
in the midst of thc din and the thror.rg, we are allowed to
withdraw here, to pondcr what we are sceing and living, to
draw conclusions, to dre¡m the future into the present:

The Great Khan...leafing through his atlas,... s¿rid:

"lt is rll usclcss. if thc L¡st l.tnJi¡le. olilce cln onlv bc the
IntcrnSl crtv, ind lt ¡s thcrc thrlt, t c\cr-n¿rrowlllg elf-
cles, the currcrtt is drawing us. "
---.1-,
And IMarco] Polo slid: "Tlrc infcrno of the
living is not something that will be; if there is onc, it is
r.r'lut is already herc, the inferno rvhere rve'livc cvcry
-fhcrc
day, that we forrn by bcing togcther. xre two ways
to escape suffcring it. The first is casy for many: ac!'ept
thc inferno and becrtuc such r nart of it that vou cán J:lo
--1-n'i6se¡r.Thelct.rndl!li,k7ir-ñT.';;ñiaionñnt
vigilence;rnd appreherrsion: sr:ck lncl lelrn !g IqLUglUze
who and whar, in thc nlirlst t.¡l ihliiñfcrno, .tre nor infento,
.-thc'n-rinaketheriiehJurc,-giúilhinrspi-ccJ'

58
 fJ UI UA r-OP rffi P,t.ll T i( r/S -
'lr/Iri
"i, ,: ,r,uti((hfr
ht)n{¡t ,
ht,trtAnlf Rt\foltrñ;Lt Dnt hÚ¡tn¡tL.
'l

CH n5
DncoNsrnucrrNG Ar,srrtnrrcs
Orienting toward the Feminine Ethos

It is time, in the West,.to defend not so much '

human riphts as human oblisations.
Al e x an d e r So lzb e n itsyn

The Athena wbo glorifies the Fathers will be

pitted against the Arachne who challenges
them.
Catherine Keller

The sterility of tbe bourgeois world will end

._-.-- or a nera for* of-pJ@tjwJerlki_
in suicide
batrcn.
-:¿--
Octauio Paz

I he diagnosis and destructuring of our collec-

rive social pathology is crucial, but in this book I am even
more concerned, as I have stated previously, with under-
standing what it might take to give our culture back its sense

59
 i t,,
of aliveness, possibility and magic. It certainly is thc case rh¡r
modcrnis¡rr increasingly appears ro bc a mode of patriarchal
corrscious¡less that lras outlived its usefulncss and needs to l¡c
transcendcd. rüle no lor.rgcr nccd old authoritxrian ideologies,
which dcmand that art bc difficult, willfully inaccessiblc and
disturbing to the audie ncc-in s<¡me se nse J cor.lrcsr of wills-
as it was under modernism. Howevcr, any othcr approach,
evcn now, is still considerctl analgcsic, conciliarory and with-
out a critical edge, which brings me ro rhe qucsrion of wherher
therc can be a truly posthcroic, postpatriarchal art-<¡ne that
does not equatc aesthetics with alicnation fronr the social
world, but embodies modcs of relatedness thar were difficult
to achieve untlcr modernisrn.
'Wh¡t I wish to arsue for rhe rcm¡i¡.rdcr of
¡his
bo<¡k is that the rational framework óf moclcrn aesthcrlc5 his
lctt-us with an ontology of object itieerion, p.*,rin",'c" ,,r.1
cgoccntricity, ryhich has scrióusly unJcrmirrcJ arr's i¡rhcrent
capacity to be communicative and compassionatcly respor.l-
. sive, or to bc secn alsq 4q :¡ process, rather than cxclusively

as 6xed forms. I am, of coursc, aware that the new terms of

- -intcrdepéncléñcc
and rel¡rcdness implicd by rcenchanrrncnr
will not be suitablc for every arrist, however alluring they
may scem to so¡ltc: there will alweys be individuals for whom
the autonomy of thc acsthctic attitudc, which needs no sociirl
. or moral justification, is morc correcr. Ncverthcless, I am
I proposing that our model of acsrhetics needs therepeutic
I attention, becaus.' ir has lost its sensitivity not only to thc
I psychological conditi<-rns of individuals and society, bur also
I to the ccological and ¡rroccss chlracrer of the rvorld.
--\ Modernis¡n did not inspire what Octavio Paz rcfers
.', / to "crcJtive prrriciprtion." Ratlier, its gencral therncs werc
"I;
/ alienlt-ión ancl-dilpleasuic-úitlr society. Úascd on the heroic,
but belligcrcnt cgo, inflated and cur off frorn its er¡bedded-
ncss in the social world, it cncouraged sepirrirtior.r, distancing
-' behavior ancl- dcpreciatiqn of rhe lo¡her." Conccrned with
thc objccr irself as the chi-d source of value, it di.!'¡¡orLocrs
_9! J9 !§Ir-gI.-Cn. c re a t i n g t t r'- t n i n g f u | _conn e qt! <)¡ s -b e1 u' ee u
¡

art and socie_ty-if thcse wcre rclated somchow, the theorv

-óf
thcir relationship was ncver satisfactorily dcvelopc.l. lntleei,

60

lii-', (tu,.,': ^)',1

l
 having loudly proclaimed the self-sufficiency of art, and hav-
ing established the importance of the untrammeled self, the
avant-garde proceeded to scorn notions of responsibility
toward the audience; its posture was one of intransigence, a
style set very early in the leunching of the rnodernist project
rvith the First Futurist Manifesto, written by Filippo Mari-
netti in 1920. "\X/e intend to exalt aggréssive action," he wrote,
"the racer's stride, the mortal leap, the punch and the slap."
This denigration of society in the form of an insult or an
assault became a cultural convention of modernism, in which,
I shell argue, the failure to relate was actually considered a
cardinal virtue, and even thc signal mark of radicality. Implicit
in much art of the modern crl was a form of aggression
reflecting a relationship of hostility both to society end to the
audience. "l'ti like more status than I have now," the Abstract
Expressionist painter Adolph Cottlieb declared, "but not at
the cost of closing the gap between xrtist and pu6lic." Riien-
ation, the systemic disorder of the modern artist, virtually
precluded any connection with the archerypal "other," because
of the refusal to cultivate the feeling of connectedness that
binds us to others and to the living world. Where other cul-
tures would never imagine the artist over and against society,
the following stltement by the printer Georg Baselitz, from
his \Vhitechapel exhibition catalogue of 198-1, rvhich I quoted
in my previous hook, is still as strong-minded an example of

The :rrtist is not rcsponsiblc t<> anyone. \His social role is

asocial; his onlv rcsponsibility consists in an attitude to
the s'ork he does. There is no communication with any
public rvhltsoever. Tl¡e artist can-ask_no_quq5tioq and
he makes no st¡tementi he offers no information, and
his s'ork cannot be usecl. It is the end product rvhich
aount\. rn m\ cilsc. thc pictLrre.

Hiddcn ['ehind these comments is a personal and

cul¡ur¡l mvth ¡hat hes formed the modern arrist's identity-

6t
 the model of the egocentric, "separarivc" self,,'1yhose pcrf..c-
tion lies in absolute independen.lc fronirhe world. Behind
;;A; rn isil rseTf fi ññ.'
i¡u s¿ I ro *
u i-;b'Á 7,I;ii h ;,, *
" beyond all ethical ¡, r -
tique of an autonomous art work, and sociai
considcrations, and an indepcr.rdenr crcator, who likcs ro scc
himsclf as-inJepcndent and in conrr.rl of thirrgs, irnpcrvious
to the influcnce of others. fltting into rhis rnvrh of tlic
-pat¡'lqrch:rl lrcro bec¿rrnc tlre p r,..-"ii.t;i;i"l-f.rr ru.lccrs un.lcr
ru'¡od.e¡nr¡nfur both men ¿1r¡l 1yo¡¡g¡l-xn archcrype-lr which
thc femininc value oI rel¿tcJ¡rcss r+..rs virrrrally .,,iipp..¡ .*ry.
'
Art as a closed and isolated systenr requirirrg ,ioihing b;t'
itself to be itsclf derives from thc objectifying metaphysics of
scicnce-the samc d u ¡ lisric rnotlcl 6[ r¡ ¡r¡..t -ob jccr-cogrr itiou
that becamc the prototypc for Cartesian thrrrking rr eii othcr
disciplines ¿rs well. This ideal of ',static,, autoriomy, of thc
self against the world, locares modern aestherics u,ithin the
-"
do minato-r " nrodel of patriarchal consiiousncss rliiliEiiFán
th{piú¡fe_ith ¡g---mo.lcl, to usc Rirnb tislcr's impr-t.rirr Jis-
tincrion in her booli'/ b c Chalict' ¿ttd tl¡c l¡it¿Ji, i di:¡inctiurr
I shall adopt in -m[ówniJiscussjbn-from this-pornr on. \X/ithin
.the "donrinaror" sysrem, the self is ccntrrrl: power i5 associ-
ated wi ü-lui6oii ty, m rriiéiy, n vu I n crr b i liiy
¡ ¡nd r-{glC
li ffirnrátion ó f égo-bou ndarief:whi ch is piéci¡;lrlñilñ
modern artist's "s'elf " came to convey. Auionomy'clisregards
relationships, however; it connores a radical in,JcpenJencc
from c¡thcrs. By contrast, in the pa rtncrsh ip-íñodcl,'rclation-
ships are central, and nothing sianJs ¿lonc,-undir irs own
power, or exists ir.l isolation, indepcndcnt of the larger
framework, or process, in which it cxists. Within thc dor"ni-
nator system, art has bc(jn organizcd around tl.re primacy of
rcbje-q¡¡rather than relarionships, and has becn scr.rp.rrr f;om
reciprocal or parricipdtivt- iñrEñcrions. Whar I sh¡il arg,ue is
that it has become trapped wirhin a rigid rnodel of irisular
individuality._To reverse rhis priority, giving prir.nacv ro rcla-
!,igry-¡--¡p9! d iGieiti dr t, i s a I só t o're v crselÉ c w a y' thlt e r t -
' lsts see thcir role, and intplies a radical deconstruction of rhe
aesthetic mode itself.
----------TEe *rcnt to which present acstl.Ictic forms tend
to favor " minator" rttitudes oI scl[-asscrtion ovcr soci:l
",ü,ft¡l' *
lntegratlon r hTrá]i rt"I l.tiue I r p p ro.rclr
r
Ft,-:.-l
.it 62
I
,,'illlll'l i,¡,
r ,ll
¡ t -r --,.| ll I
 ( ,>¡,: i t;.,tt) t,
[ ] iOl,, __ rlOD: l/¡ fil_
d6ñl¡ nd competitivenes. nr", .ollper¡rioq]
was most evi-
?l-.nr for me-in tEelñtenie «»iiñversy that raged for several
vears over the proposed removal of Richard Serra's monu-
mental steel sculpture Tilted Arc from its site at Federal Plaza
in dorvntown Manhattan, where it was installed in 1981.
Tilted Arc was commissioned by the General Services
Adnrinisrration in 1979,, as part of the government's art-in-
architecture program, and was conceived specifically for the
site. The 120-foot-long, 12-foot-high, 73-ton leaning curve
of welded steel is an impressive, imposing work-arguably
the epitome of u ncompronrising, modernist art. I think there
is no question but that, within the normative values of mod-
ernism, it is a very powerful statement. It dominates the space,
confronting the áudience in an aggresiiEFáfio=?iáñlne its
:ru.njúhi ñlrnsw it li ñ-gñ@ e
audience, according to .iiti. Bri6ññT6r., *hrt
gry§-n-qdSlD-¡ Lt.its m_orel dimension. "Serra"iE.É.ly
demands abso-
-luÉ.urono-y
foi ñilárt;" slie-fálwritten in Vogue maga-
zine, "his works are intentionally self-suf6cient. They stand
upright and alone, isolated in positions of heroic rectitude,
as if the very posture of standing without support, of solitary
rootedness, is an cxpression of resistance to external pres-
su res. "
Thus,, for Rose at least, Serra's work, with its
almost mineral imperviousness, is the ultimate model of social
independence and the radically separative self; the heroic,
belligerent ego of modernity, cultivating its divisiveness and
lack of connectedness with others, is best known through its
refusal to be assimilated. This is the basic split in or¡r world
view that deni grates the feminine principle_of_empathy_and
re I a s to á t h e-r§,;iel;ñ-' Ieif -i
te d n es tñ. .i..rGi b r d;i¡iá
our culture's dominant masculine approach. §lithin modern-
ism, women have been taught to idealize these masculine val-
ues in art as much as men.
Bv now, most people are likely to be aware of the
embanled saga of this rvork, and how its presence in the plaza
s'as so unpopular among the local of6ce workers that it seemed
almost to represent another version of the Berlin Wall. As
one emplovee of the U.S. Department of Education stated at
rhe rim e:

6.i
 lt has darnpencd our spirits evcry'dir;'. It hes turncd i¡rto
a hulk of rusty stecl lnd clcarly, at lcrst tt¡ us, it doesn't
havc any appeal. lt nrighthavc i¡rtistic valuc but jLrst not
hcrc. .. and for those of us rrt tlrc plaza I would like to
slry, plclsc rlo us a favor end takc it irway.

During threc days of public hearings in r\lerch

1985, aftcr a petition signcd by thirtccn hundrcd cmployecs
had becn circulated to have tl.re sculpture re¡.r.lovcd fronr its
site, many members of the art conrmunitv defende d Serra;
thc consensus was th¿rt rcmoval of the work would compro-
nrise thc kind of intcgrity that mrkc's irt_in o!rr_socicty the
symbol of whal fréedoñr-nrEanl-il the world. Ce rtainly f rcc-
dorn is promoted as c social, politicll ¡¡rd aesthetic iJeal; but
what is hardly ever mentioned is the in flationary stvle thet
has been paraioxically secn as the self's virtue. Li a t"u"niv-
two-page brief prepared by his attorney, Serra nrade the case
for his dccision to sue the governmeut for thirtv nlillron tlol-
bccause it hatl "deliberatcly intiuced" public-h_ostility
- lars
toward his worli and had tncd to h.rvc it forcibly rcmoved.
"To
rcmove the work, according to Scrra, rvirs to dcstroy ir.
Serra sucd for breach of contr¡ct and violation oÍ his consti-
tutional rights: tcn million cloll¿rs for his loss of sales and
commission, tcr.r million dollars for harnr to his artistic rcp-
utation and tcn millior¡ dollars in punitive datrtages for vi<.r-
lating his rights.
\Within the perspcctive of thc domi¡rator rnotlcl
of social organization, freedorn hr¡s beconre unconsciously
Ii,:!Sd_fyalr-tl§_qo!qu,c!! merrtal ity ¡nd with " hard " rathcr
-til".tólri,üñ;¿ritilrrr=iiiJit.,*¡tl¡tttn¿tiói-oflponer
that ii implicd by having or.rc's way, pushing things aiound,
bcir.rg invulnerable. It is the powcr symbolized in L,isler's b<¡ok
by the "masculine" bladc, thc approech to co¡lt.lict resolution
that calls for thc destruction of one's oppouent aud lots of
musclc-Í1cxing. lt rlso lcetls to ;.r dcadcning of cmpathy-thc
solitary, sclf-containcd, self:sufficicnt cgo is rr«rt given to u,har
David Michael Levin calls "enlightcncd listcning," a listcnr¡rt:
orientcd toward thc achievcment o[ sharc.] understanding.
"We nced to think about'precticcs of the sclf 'that do r¡r¡l

64
 -/./'l i"
\ LIV I¡l l/ toc,at,'l
withdrhr it from
(eplrate the self from society and withdrhw
¡.ffi
tanoñl EI!ty,-'
fil itv-.-r Gv
Lr iñ§ii-tes n
r

ro think about 'practices of the self' that zz d the

essentixl intertwining of self and other, self and sociery, that
arc aware of the subtle complexities in this intertwining." In
Serrr's undcrstandine. F;ia¡refers to e soecific ohvsical
loc¡tion, iviih éertain cñfiIEEil s t ics related to siz.e and scale.
BLri iiil irot pei as i@ll socially responsive ln
rhe sense that the audiéñ6 enacls .ol. in the completion
of rhe work, which presumably is immune"ny to the influence of
others. "Trying to attrect a bigger audience," Serra has com-
mented, "has nothing to do rvith making art." T[ris has been,
as I say, the modernisf view; end as an echo of who we are,
it is also, ¡s Levin says, an indictment of the character of our
Iistening.
In July 1987, the Federal District Court ruled
against Serra. On Saturday, March 11, 1989, the sculpture
rvas finally removed from the plaza and taken off to storage
in Brooklyn, after the U.S. Court of Appeals also rejected
Serra's claims, in a seventeen-page opinion. Serra steadfastly
maintained that he hacl ful6lled his part of the contract, and
u'arned that every artistic and literary work commissioned
bv rhe government was now in jeopardy of censorship. "This
goVó-nriñri-flTrt"gé," he §tatéd in Tbe'Netu Yoik Times,
u'hich reported the event. "lt is eating its culture. I don't
think this country has ever t.lestroyed a major work of art
bcforc. Every rvork out thcrc is in jcopardy, at the Govern-
ment's rvhim. ... They say their property rightí¿rant them
power over my nroral ri-gltí. This is not true in evéry ciuilized
\I'cstern country. "
As e critic, what are the grounds for deciding
rvhcrher Tiltcd Arc is a successful or a failed work, and whether
it should have stayed in the square or been removed?
Obviouslr', thcrc erc nranv a.spects to this dispute, but the
one of parricular interest ro me is whether the aesthetic value
of Serra's s'ork can be sustained rvithout responsibility to the
.oci¡l feetlh¡ck he reccived. The question that is really at
.t¡ke here is s'hat s'e understand bv freedom, and how this
rde¡l rs ro he emhodied..[usr as disinterested and "value-free"

6-;
 scientism does not grow out of any concern for socicty and
contains no inner restraint within its methodology that would
limit what it feels entitled to do, in the same way disinrer-
ested aestl.rcticism reveals nothing about the limits art should
..--É
re§p-ccr, or t nrrllnity-it should serúe. In effect, thinking
6f-rEFonf6ifili6 anü óLrligations morc rhan of frecdo¡ns aná
rights does not fit in with our present culture's definitions of
itself----or not yet. Scicntists, for instance, are not expected ro
worry about the applicatior.rs or conscquences of tl.reir research,
nor are they supposed to worry about relating scicnce to
human values or needs. Donald Kuspit l.ras writter.r about
Robert Oppenheirrer, for instance, one of the inventors of
the ato¡nic bomb, that he "scemed unawarc of the existential
irnplications of atomic powcr until the trauma of the actual
cxplosion." Whcn l.rc did realize the ramiFcations of what
his work had helped to set in rnotion, it all but wrccked his
.lifc. Within the fraqrerrqrk of disintcrested aesthetics, art tends
to*aldTEáIañf ta.-[o-f - a-cco-rAsiliiiiliát-s¡ie-nd[-c-ideol-
for itsélf.
Gy-lcqur*,rü7hat
the Tilted Arc controvcrsy forces us to con-
sider is whether art that is based or.r notions of pure freedom
and radical autonomy-without rcgard for the relations we
have to other people, the community, or any othcr consid-
eration except tl.re pursuit of art-can contribute to a scnse
of the common good. Merely to pose the que stion indicates
¡ that wlrat has nlost distinguished acsrhetics iu nlodcrn rimes
I is thc dcsire fc¡r an art that is purely cognrti-v.e,-p-u¡sly_uxel-
I lectu¡l- a n.i absol u rely . free oltli-p-i.:r"n"ions -o[.dgi n g thc
I world a¡y-g6otl. "l dc¡ not mcan to sJy thar thc rrtist mskes
lighr of his work and his profession." Ortcge y Crsict wrote
in his classic cssay of 1925. I*Thc Dch u nr rn izariorr of AlTl
"but they interest him precisely bccause they aid of-no tran-
scendent importance. A present-day artist would be thunder-
struck if he were entrusted with so enormous a mission-art
is not meant to take on the salvation of mankind." Accord-
ing to Ortega, it is not that art has become less important
than it was to previous generations, but that the artist him-
self regards his art as a thing of no consequence. \Vhen I was
an art student in New York Ciry during the 1950s, my teacher,

66
 t)tr )l Ji,
Rob e rt M o th elw e
I
É;.i f ..,o ¡15* a y
l¡s'. Ea.l-r!tíf.years
ot
or Lrrtegx.s
Lrrreue s essql!
essav. ¡vlore tnan irty 1áGr,Tlluld ven-
rure to state that the logic of most art today continues to play
our the same dynamic. lts philosophical underpinning has
not really changed that much. Modern aesthetics does not
e¡silv accommodate the more feminine values of care and
respdñrñen?sl oÍ seeiñf:rnd-reslforrdmgTó-ñeed.
Crrcial to releasinf-ilñ-ir-áaiive dynamics of
partnershipisthatitmu!!-bg_Ilro-lghEámong-oúff T
from a radñá-1ly?r-fFeiént épil[émology of care and respon-
sibilitv, in which the artist does not stand aloof from any
intention of being in service to rhe common good, or to the
community. §lhereas male myrhs, and the myths of modern-
ism, tvpically have focused upon tasks of separation and
mastery of self over .environ ment, within the inodel of part-
nership it is a question of trying to realize a context in which
social purposes may be served (to" _qqrlg ,q!$r"l-p,h.ilosopher
J ii rgen_Ha berm,a s )'lhy tl di¡g_beautif ul-ways- of har moniz- 7
ing interests r¡thcr rh¡n sulrlime.-ways of detaching onesell \
from others'interesri." This represénts e fundameñtaIttr-al- \
lenge to the concept of self that we have just been describing,
a different model of communicative praxis and openness to
others than the historical self of modernism, one that does
not use the image of the hclo_?r ¡gjllc,helype.but. is more like
the sham_áñ. Mutíal cooperation for rhe common good is an
ideal, rvithin the pa rtnershjp¡rodel, that serves as a template
tor a dilferent u ndersrand ing-pf moral responsihility, not as
issues óT-ri§liis añ.d laws, buirather ás iiripárativesói i.rpon-
'
sibilitv and care, as Carol Gilligan points out in lni-Dffir-
eut Yo¡a¿. -
When a particuler cultural idea like freedom
l,ecomes so abstrect and overvalued, as in the case of Serra,
¡hat it 6nallv assumes control of the entire personality (or
collective mentalirv) :rncl supprcsses all other motivations, then
r¡ hecomes dogmatic and limiring. "lt is impossible ro have
rrue individualirv," rvrites David Bohm, "except when
srounded in the s'hole. Anything which is not in the whole
rs not rndrvidualitv bur egocentrism." The ego is the prime
::rledrment to this deeper understanding of wholeness. The
t"
. l' t''t'': , 'l ¡ ¡'

¡
61 ,.

lr ',,'i' ''t't
 [. ,t.i -,i,]
cgo works fronr a nced to wi|r, to comc out on top. hr the
case of Serra, ii thc artist u'ins, he l¡ccorncs a-he ro;rf he loscs,
he becomes á victim. In tl.re dominetor model, one either fights
or capirulates. But in the zero-sunt f¡:unc that has becn cre-
ated here, there is rcally no possibility of any acceptable res-
olu tion.
Modernism's f¡-rnd¡rnental mode was confronta-
tion-the result of dccp habits of thinking thar ser socicrv
and the individual in opposition, as two contrary and antag-
onistic categories, neither of which can expand or develop
except at tl.re expense of the other. "The paradigmaric rela-
tion bctween work and spectator in Serra's art is thar benveen
bully and victim, as his work ¡ends to rrea! rl-r-e viewer's u.el-
f¡re with contempt," Anna C. Cheve wrórc rcccnrly in an
'' essay entitled "Minir¡alisn.r and thc Rhctoric of Power," in
Arts nagazine. "This work not only looks dangerous: it rs
dangcrous." Serra's "prop" pieces in museums are often roped
off or alarmed, have on one occasion even killed a workman,
and have injured scveral othcrs. Cl.ravc sces ivlinirnalism ¿rs
thc zenith of "nonrelational art," impersonal, unyielding,
authoritarian. h.r the d<¡n.rinator n.rodel, thc assun.rption has
been that one could be a great artist only by bcing ageinsr
everything and everyone. But if the principle of linking, t r
partnership, is to bccolnc the basis of a nerv colrsciousncss,
tl.rer.r tl.re notion that art and society ere at odds with each
other-the old adversarial relationship-will need to be
revised. And if all levels of experiencc and the world are now
perceived in terms of yelatjg4;fiip, it rcprcsents the parirdig-
matic defeat of radical autonorny and the old avant-gardc
mandate for oppositional practiccs, which have informed the
world view of n.rodernism. If these notions are indecd over
and done with, then we will need a new model, one tl.rat
breaks down thought forms and energy parterns leading to
separation and divisiver.ress, and is more attuned to the irlrer-
rclational, ecological and proccss characrcr of reality. Writ-
ers such as Bohm and Eisler stress that nonc of ulues
ls lntnnsl irnbitlirncc ch¿r rac-
teristic of our r nfl
cc¡mmirrcd ro discnrbodied idcels of iñ-diIi

6rl
and self-expression while everything else in the world unrav-
els makes no sense anymore. However, we are still, in our
ever,vday understanding of art, equating superior works with
these old Cartesian models; our'áttiruded are not yet tuned
tq-vrlrriñETarticipation and s.'cñ[lntefr ation, o_r_io accept-
in'g states of fluT -and-1jeco-mirrg. Tñeiisuc-of intircoñnect-
edness has not yeapenet-f¡ild o[r emotional responses, and
certainlv not our vah¡es.
'§üere
rve to reframe our notion of freedom in the
light of these holistic and more systemic models-to syn-
clrronize with the conceptual shift occurring in science from
objects to rela tionships-freedom might lie less in the solip-
si sti c idea I of doi n g wh e tcve-o-ñ?*Wxrrsfñtf-rñó!-iñ-the
accomplishment of ['brin§ing intciTélationsh ip]' A very dif-
ferent kind of ert em'ei§-es if it orisñ:r1es from what Carher-
ine Keller l.ras termed tlre "connective" self-that more open
model of the personality which welcomes in the other. "Like
the serpents wound about the Hermetic Caduceus," she writes
in From a Brokcn \Yeb, "the image of rclarional intertwining
works healingly upon the neurosis of the separative ego." To
experience the "conncctive" self in ection, we need to con-
sider the work of a cliffcrent ¡rtisr, Mierlé LidermJDUkeles,
who has been unsalaricd artisr- in-residiice áFthe New York
Citv Department of Sanilation s... 197 éles comments:

For nre, it wfls a nrattcr of 6nding the nrininrelist and

process art at the end of the 1960s sterile rnd socially
remote. If ert's h¡nction is to articulate a notion of human
freedom-if that's what art does-then the problem is
how to makc the notion of freedom relevant to every-
bocly, not ¡ust an élite group. It has to be connected to
the world-but then you immediately have restrictions.
How much of my orvn personal freedom do I have to
give up to Iivc on the earrh and not tlestroy it, or to live
in a community? Action painters wcre engaged in a notion
of pure freedom. I love that notion of frcedom, but you
can orrly talk abour freedom when you can cleal with the
' ¡ir ¡nd-tlrc cxrth irnd the wrter. The-f é6plc-riñ6177-c-
dáling with rhis rlso helong in iFl dielogue.

69
 Ukeles's work is definitely in the mode of dia-
the realities of perrnership rhrough an en.rparhic
logue,. creating
bond bctween herself and her audience. Fo. ylr. and a half,
from mid-1979 to 1980, she welked around" with sanitation
workers and foremen from fifty-nine municipal districts,
talking with them. Then she did an art work, ialled Touch
Sanitation, thar went on for eleven monrhs, during which
timc she went around the five boroughs of New yórk and
personally shook hands witl.r everyone in the department. ,,lt
was an eight-hour-day performance work,,, she told me.

I'd come in at roll call, then walk rheir roures with them.
I made tapes and a video. I did a ritu¿l in which I faced
each person and shook their hand; and I said, "Thank
you for keeping New York City alive ." The real arrwork
is the handshake itself. Whcn I shakc hands with ¿ san-
itation man... I prcsent this idea and performance to
them, and then, in how they respond, rhey finish the art.

New York _produces twenty-six thousand tons of garbage a

day; a family of four throws our rhree tons of garbage a year;
so without thcm doing rheir job, the city would die. ..1 hope
th ar my ha-nZst rkéa wil I eveirtu al I[b urñ-'an i mage in to tire

_p-g!I5i mind that every rime rhFy rhrow ro.elhing out,

huqan han_ds hávCto talEñ-arv_al " When rhe hrnd-shaking
eÍent-úás finistred, Ukátes wás appointed Honorary Depury
Commissioner of Sanitation and made an honorary reamster
I by the union. "The piece is about hcaling bad feálings and
.,Many oI thcm
i said,_worker's
rhe sense of isolrtion," she statei.
I pen.' 'I never bclieved anyrhing like this would ever hap-
I "

are not exactly places of enchanrmenr, but by offcring her

hand in a gesture of openness and generosiry, a spaie of
enchantment is opened up, if only for a momenr. The arche-
rypal reach of her open hand-like a tsuddhist mudra----e xtends
way beyond the horizons of our irnmediare social world; it
responds to needs so deep they are not even rccognized until
the gesture has touched them with its kindness. In a related

70
performance, Follouing in Your Footsteps, Ukeles follorved
rhe workers ¡round and pantomimed their movements, pre-
tending to be like them, as a way of showing her apprecietion
for what they do, and acting as a stand-in for all the public
s'ho don't do this work. "Ve're looked down upon, and I
trv not to let it lrother me, but it's nice that someone is stand-
ing with us," commented one worker in the department. Stated
another: "Sanitation men are not like a bunch of gorillas.
Some of us have college degrees. Mierle has made us feel
good about ourselves. lf that's what art is, it's fine by me."
In Ukeles's work, empathy and healing are the
perameters, the test of whether the work is in fact being car-
ried out pa radi gmatical ly. Tlre,ppen bg¡!--eyokes-qurlities
such as love and_gq¡.er_9¡.i_ty. Empathy becomes affirmation,
in the sense that it validates ratheithan -dmi6itrb-iñ<iivldua-
tion of self and others. According to David Michael Levin in
The Body's Recollection of Being, it is not un¡easonable to
suppose that were we to modify our wey of relating to the
things rve touch and handle, a raclically new social order might
actually come into being; our technological world is a reflec-
tion of gestures motiveted by the masculine "will to power"-
the grasping, seiz-ing, violence and mechanical indifference
that are hastening the annihilation of the earth. If we could
reverse these tendencies and develop instead gestures of
"reciprocal touching," gestures that bring together, receive
and rvelcome, modest gestures of solicitude and tact, which
belong to the maintcnance of being, the possibilities are so
profound as to imply a whole new social and cultural order.
It seems clear that to deconstruct the aesthetic framework
with any success involves gerring in touch with the "emparhic"
mode of thinking, in which the polarizing, objecifying ten-
dency has been neutralized and replaced by a belief in the
restorative action of care, Given our characteristic modern
forms of defiance, protest end attack, and our postmodern
forms of parody and ironic indifference, the notion of xrt
embodying a good act really does change the name of the
game.
Whilc Ukeles was engaged in personally shaking
hands n,ith eighty-five hundred sanitation workers, rhey told

71
 her about the insulting narnes people call rhenl: dirtbag, can
nran, slimeball, slob, traslr llound. Shc discovcrcd that, evcn
--though t\y {¡fulc-ir rvorli out in. rhe srrcers, tlrey fél-nvis-
ibf!-¡![y-{!!t @i pe.gplc ql¡qught they were part oI thc'-gar-
;b{e, One worker told her abour a tinre when tliefu e rc
picking up garbagc in tsrooklyn on a hot da1'. They took a
break and sat down on someone's front porch. The lady
opened hcr window rnd ycllcd, "(ict rlvay fronr nrc, y«ru
smclly garbagc nren! I d<¡r.r't w:lut you stinking up nty steps."
"For seve¡rteen years," the worker said, "tl.rat Iras stt¡ck in
my throat. Today," he said to Ukcles, "you cleercd ir away."
These conversations were the sourcc of another installation-
perforrnance work, Cleansing tlrc llad Na»¿¿s, which took
place in 1984 as part of an exhibition at the Roneld Feldman
Gallery in New York. Ukclcs reconsrructed rwo sanit¡rion
cnvironmcnts sidc by sidc: the locker facilities at an old dis-
trict office, furnishcd with "rnungo," a term used by rhe
workers for objccts retricved from garbagc, lnd a new, mod-
ern facility, sanitirry but sterile, with a cornputcr and a Nlu-
tilus wcight machine. The wind<¡ws of the gallery rvere written
over with thc lrames thc workcrs gct callcd, and or.r thc day
of the opcning, the assemblcd group of art courmissioners,
city officials, artists, company prcsidcrrts aud s¿rnitation
workers werc all handcd sponges and invitcd to help clcan
the windows.
At thc san.re timc as tl.re Feldnran exhibition, Ukeles
also mountecl a "rnaintcnance installation" in a marinc trensier
station, the cncloscd pier on the Hudso¡r River where scni-
tation trucks dump thcir loads into bargcs for rransport to
the Staten Islend land6ll. It consistcd of Mininralist-likc sracks
and pilcs of sl.rovels, rakes, chains, ropes and cyclone fenciug,
and a tcrr-fbot-tall wirc basket fillcd with rhousands of dis-
carded work gloves, collcctcd for morc tlran a ycar by thc
workmcn, as an indication <¡f the massivc work they do for
us. Thcre was also a full array of sanitation vch iclcs-collcc-
tion trucks, snorvblowers, flushers, salt spreaders and sweep-
ers. In another aspect of hcr ivork, Ukeles sees herself as heir
to the Constructivist tradition of chorcographing n.rachine
danccs. §lorkers helped her with rhe Ballet Méc,trtityuc she

72
-re:ted for six srrcet sweepcrs that went along Madison Ave-
:.r:r('¡s parf of New York City's Art Parade in 1983. §íhen
::e h¡ller \\'as o\¡er, rhe six drivers turned the huge machines
:.' i¡ce rhe ¡uclience ancl took a bow, raising and lorvering
::c srlcepers' brooms and hacking up slighrly wirh theii
l.ee¡c.rs on. Ukeles has also organized a ballet for barges and
:-.::bo:rts on the Hudson River, and creared a special ,,con-
:.r:u.r1 sculpturc" for the sanitation department. lt is a city
: r::-'rqc truck, decorated with n.rirrors so people can see who
- -r<!-: rhe cerbage. Her current project, Flow Clty, involves
j:i:-::in.r e special observation deck for the public at the sire
'::: cirr"s new marine transfer station on West Fifty-sev-
:-:; iir-c-ct, u,here thousands of tons of garbage are trans-
-::::: .i.:ilv from rrucks onto barges for trahsport to the Staten
. :-: i.rndfill. 1'he project u,ill eventually include the con-
-:: ---:r rn of i1 passaqc ramp ruade from crushed recyclable
-:::::.-,ir. a glass platform from rvirich to view the dumping
::::.r::,rn: rtnd e large wall of video screens providing infor-
-.r: ,:: .rbout ccosvste ms and waste m¡nagement, and views
' :^: r-J:rtlson River.
Lrkcles's crtrrordinery abiliry to empathically knit
- - -r: : :n:r¡ the commr.rnity of sani¡ation workers, and to
:-:-i:,::r.r rhe elicn_audieq,cq_uto_thlemoathic atüience,
: --:-::I.il¡L's, et least to nte, the pleasures of cre¡rive
::: -ir:('n¡ ¡nil inter¡ction over those of autonomy and, as
- -' j i.ri!' oi Se rre, radicel opposition of the self imposing
-- -'- : :h.: otlrcr. The
'"vey she merges her consciousness
,. :- :-: r)rke rs, convcrses tvith them, learns from them and
.,.
-'- i .-.:i ,re §'ith them, can certainly be considered an
,

- . r :.r: ):r of realirv th¡t is shamenic in spirit, using sha-

,

-:- j -:í-r:'ts in a rnodern tvav. The "connective" self dis-

.: .:.:-:: .rílini¡r'rvith all being that strikes ar the roots of
-.:
: r - : 5r' ili'solving the mcchanical division benvcen self
-:': --: 'r:(i .1n open continuum for interactiolt. for a pro-
. :: :':.rnJ rr,e.rlingg rog
roqclher-i flou in rrllich there
- :- - ..: ,ir.r.tn.c. nn thcoretiical viiolcnce, no antagonis-
'- --:--.:'".r. I.Lrr r¡rhcr thc reciprocitv rve find at play irr
:- -- -'. ':i-'. :lt.r: l¡ c\scnri.tl ro skilliul functioning. As

-)
 something more than arr, however, Ukeles's work beconres
an exercise in model building; it radiatcs a diffcrent energy,
the cnergy of soul, whose full rncaning is not easily integrated
into the present world view, where the normative self ls still
the mlscu I i¡l e. scf,¡r;¡riw-sel [, -..r,.,,¡¡*-J _agai n :r thc ou ts iilc
-w-ñ-?-Jhe critic Kim Levin's ambivelcnt r.spon-iJto Uke-
les's work ín the Village Voice (Scptember 1984) will cch<¡
the suspicion and doubt of n.rarry others, l'rn sure, who also
feel the need to separate the social mcrir from the artisric
rnerit of this work:

L.rthe end, it's the extravagant obsession that nrakes it

work as art, rrot rlrc do-gooJ intcntl(,ns ol hcr crus¡dc.
In facr, the saintly lspccr makes rne sliglrtly uncary. The
Sanitation Departmcnr may have its own |oan of Arc,
but . . . I h¿vc sornc v.tguc,.luubrs lbr-¡ut thc irrr¡,s¡¡¡¡a.
in the ovcr¿ll scllt.mc of rhings of savirrg rlrc rcllurJtlon
of s.rnit¿tion workcrs ln c.rlling thrln 5ilnt)r( l) ln\rL':d of
Canmcn. After all, they'rc hardlv a ncedy group. Wirh a
sfrong union, their starting salary is a hcfty $23,000.
And new restrooms are 6ne but thcy » on't save the lvorld.

ut ready ro feel comfortable

with art that embodics tl.rat sculprs
and-shapes the bónd between-l¡ut at lcasilá can begin ro
develop ar.r ir.rtuirive feel for thcse differcnt nlasculine ¿nd
(en.rinine energy parrcrns by exploring their manifestatious in
two diffcrent cases. 'ü7hat is notable about Ukelcs's work is
that she ncver literalizcs her fcelings for the sanitation work-
ers into specific social goals (this isn't Marxist arr); rarher ir
is the act of ernparhic identificarion that is crucial, and heal-
ing. In contrast to Serra, there is an elcmcnt of grace in her
way of working thar comes from hcr nlore gentle, diffused
mode of listening, which tries to rune in to life on irs rerms.
Dcveloping the world view of a shaman, in contrest to that
of our present society's achievement-oriented professional,
helps one to become a healer in all onc's activities, harmo-
nizing the needs of the individual with rhe nceds of the com-
n.runity, and bringing abour a balanced relationship betrveen

74
inner and outer worlds. Vorld healing, in this sense, begins
r¡'ith rhe individual who welcomes in the other. This lower-
ing of rhe personal wall and expressing spontaneous empa-
dr1' has not been highly valued in the dominator society, whose
emphasis generally has been on separation, self-control,
autonomv and mastery. However, a new openness in per-
sonal relarions-which we are beginning to see in the global
polirical arena--<ould help us to reverse our present histori-
cal course, and is a crucial component in the model of the
posrpariarchal, participative personality. Partnership, as Eisler
darms, is an idea whose time has come.

75
 Cueplsn 6
THr EcolocrcAt IuprnRtlvr
A New Cultural Coding
t- .' (-.

'.1r,.1, '.;
"', ,

All my expericnce as a psychologist lcads me

to t.h.g tgncly1torlllat a sense o/ reverence :r§
a per-
son has no seflse of ieuerence, no feeling that
there is anyone or anything tbat inspires awe,
.(r
it
cuts the conscious personality off com-
pletely from the nourishing springs of the
unconscious. It is ironic, tben, that so much
¡)-
of ou_r modern culture is aime-d q.! etsdjc@S
all reyglq nc-e, all respect t'or the high truths
and qualities that inspire a fecling of aue and
worsbip in the human soul.
Robert Johnson

ln
tbe twentieth century tbis reuerent atten-
tion hardly exists, nor can it exist in any uital
mode until the spirituality of tbe new ecolog-
ical age begins to function witb some efficacy.
Tbomas Berry

76
 f , t i

In the late
1950s, the English writer Colin Wil-
son declared that the modern artist "must become actively
involved in the task of-iestoring a metaphysical conscious-
ness to the age," a consciousness that looks beyond the lim-
ited, materialistic view of the world promulgated by
mainstream science.. §ühat I wish to propose is that, in the
19 j&,_rbe word "ecological_rydl begSa. !hg_esu!ygl§!,]! if
the word "metaphysical," as the task of restoring awareness
oT olisymbiotic ielationship with natt¡re becomes the most
-------..--...-_L.

pressing spiritual and polkic need of our time. In the mod-

irn *oild,'n,¡ Iife is sátieT; because we do not recognize it es
such. Other civilizaiions have created Altamira, Stonehenge,
the Pyramids and Chartr,qs;!ours has produced thé shopping
máTl áñd the-cooling_tanki Modern lñdilidüáls dc¡ not see the
earth as a source of spiritr,ral renewal-they see it as a stock-
pile of raw materials to be exploited and consumed. Native
Americans say that for the white man, every blade of grass
and spring of water trr¡¡ pL...J¡C-9t11.il\Y/e are bred from
birth to live on the earth as consumers, and this exploitative
form of perception now determines all our social, economic
and political relationships, in a style that knows no limits.
The photographer David T. Hanson comments in an unpub-
lished essay on lris own work:

It seems frightening yet strangely appropriate that per--l

haps the=¡¡p5t enduring mellments that the \,)lest rvill I
leave bcÑnd ao@e Stone- I
henge, the Pyramids of Giza or the cathedral of Chartres,- |
but rather thc haznrdor¡s remains of out iñdúitry end J I
technolosv . . . vest sírrdens of ashes and ooisons.\This I
-ffiLy oíá,'i.ñlld üsr for iz.T0o géniiaii-on§. Iñ'stend J
of the sacred sites of Borobudur or Ajanta, we have left
to future generations Rocky Flats and the Hanford Res-
ervation. The texts of the Environmental Protection
Agency are the sutras of the late-twcntieth century.

In modern times, the basic metaphor of human

presence on the earth is the bulldozer. Our dealings with the
earth in the last two centuries have been guided less and less

77
 b.y moral or ecological considerafions anrl rn<¡re
and rnore by
shr.¡rr rcrnr. u.rility and grccd. We arc ,n. ,ru.i'i*p"nr,""
members of the community of nature. To ,"",ru.
ctary portrait-as he who comes in the nighr and rakcs
*n plrn-
from
thc Iand wharevcr hc needs-is to sec thclortrrli.i,
lrn¿_
scape rhat has been ravaged, mined, drilled and
drained of
its natural worthi ir is to see livrng eviclcnce oi Á.len
C"ldi
cott's asserrio¡t th at tl.rc i rl.l us trr
úIv
th a t cve r. I'¡ lppc n ed to i1i-p I e,,i-,. f
9l-$¡12!r_¡Jll" *:,r.st rh in g
ñlÍ ¡ürr- n í"W.r,..,,
lndustrral sociery's asslult o¡r the earth a¡rd ¡he Jcv¿st¡tion
l,-ll y.grsl]l is thc subjccr of Hen,on's ,.riii pt,,rr,rg.rpn,
dramatrzrng, thc do¡ninanr institurions oI l culturc th,lt
i-l¡s
consistently and arrogantly gone against narure..fhe
images
are harsh, distressing and ieirible.
f ,hcelth, Hanson,
..
From 1985 ro 1996.. ar sorrre pcril to his orvn
/ Rhodc who Iives in providcnce and teaches ¡t the
'íor¿,
i acrral srudyIsl¡nd.School.of Dcsign, producctl yVrrii
1
of hazardous waste sircs throughour the United ^n
)tatcs-sttcs tl)irt arc nr.rt norrnally ¿vail;rble to our vicq,, such
]
I is j!9 Atlas. Asbesros Mine in California and United bcrap
i Lead In L)hio. From approximately forty thousand of thcse
. srtes,! whrch, e rc sprea.d across lllc coulltry, Hensotr ehosc sixry_
i hvc, loceted both_in industrial areas ani in renrote wiklerness.
fin¡shcd fornr, rhc photogr.rph: arc aeconrplnictl by
] e1,,-lll",l
topogrephr..,]1..p
/ dlrcctly 9f thc site ¡nd by dcscriprrve t"*rr, trk"i
I trom EPA documents, rvhich tcll tire historic¿l and
i social.rea Iitics of thesc '.landscapes,,, ,n".,rul.u,r",*lrot Ir",
i i:,1: ,l:/ posc and rhe ryp.es of action taken to arrempr ro
de.ll wlrh rhc p-roblcrns. .'The tcxrs evcr.rtually circlc back
i thcnrselves," H¡nson.writes, ..through o¡r
I to reveal rhe rotJl ilrcflcctiveness a cuinulative cffcct,
i nrenagenlcn[. of this bure¡ucracy of w,rsrc
Firr.rlly r.r c rrc lcfr witlr ¡n cnJlcss scries ul
iI lawsutts, remedr.rl
rnvestig:ttions and fcesib¡lity studies...
Issues of shoddy nrrr)egcnrenr p.r.ii.., :rrc ar
'AmeriJ¡." ..tt the
heart of rhc "poisoning of *r, lii.-...ing th.
ravagcs,of wxr," s¡ys Hansorr. '.lt was very J.pr".ri,,g..:
!ll,.rt
hnrtty heppcns ro thc dc.rdly subsr; ¡ers proJuecJ by thc
chernical industry seems not to conccrn the industries
thar
produce them. These by-products are now .rriing tl,"

78
 destruction of the earth's ecology. According to Thomas Berry
tn Tbe Dream of the Eartb, the biggest problem we face i.s
s'hat to do rvith this waste; rhe Lqfu§4l to deal with it is one
oi the m ost-reprüsf_yeaspecrs-alo-urcontemporary_technqlo-
gr_e_sJhe cost for a hazardous waste cleanup t o, b..n .iti--
mated at 6fteen billion dollars, with another fifry billion dollars
estimated for the cost of nuclear-waste disposal. But the real
problem is that many of these substances can neuer be cleaned
up at all, and their conrainment is already seriously out of
control, a situation that became all too evident even as I wrote
this, divulged that very day by The New York Times (Octo-
ber 14, 1988):

Government ofñcials overseeing a nuclear l,Jeapons plant

in Ohio knew for decades that they were releasing thou-
sands of tons of radioactive uranium waste into the
environment, exposing thousands of workers and resi-
dents in the region, a Congressional panel said today.
The Governmenr decided not to spend rhe
money to clean up three malor sources of contamina-
tion. . . . Runoff from the plant carried tons of the waste
into underground water supplies, drinking water wells
in the aree and the Great Miami River; leaky pits at the
plant, storing waste water containing uranium emis-
sions and other radioactive materials, leaked into the
wafer supplies, and the plant emitted radioacive parti-
cles inro the air.

We ¡re all living in Ohio. Rachel Carson warned

us ¡s'entv-6ve vears ago that nature cloes not operate in iso-
larion, and that pollution of the ground water is total pollu-
tion. Jusr about every locarion in the U.S. now has a warer
con¡aminarion problem. The Department of Defense itself
has inrenroried 3,526 sites u here con¡aminadon poses a threat
ro, the environment or puhlic health. Hanson's photographs
oi thrs onqoinq drama are among the most powerful ,nd dis-
:u15ing images ever to be seen, perhaps because their eerie,
.r5i:r:ct hc.run .rlmost seems ro negete the sinister Iife rhnt r; .\
1i : m n: er¡-1 n-rh em : r ndsc.rne n, form ed into lrnd- i uV
-nffi
I
".,Eói\tra
, . ;:-: e-: s-!\¡n.!@ itr tf,. r -.'.i.*' p, U t
1

79
all, seen photographs of its own "secret" landscapc: huge
discolorcd trects of land devotcd to radioactivc waste and
nervc gas disposal. Nor is it easy ro obtain such pictures.
In 19tt4, H¿rnson plrotographcd acrial vicws r>f
Minutcm¡n missile silos in the American §flest-anonymous
but deadly constructions hiddcn r¡,ithin thc rgricultural land-
scape of the High Plains. Thcre are curre¡rtly a thc¡usand
Minutcma¡r silos sprcad across eighty thousand squarc n.riles
in eight states, and each silo cont¿ri11s a nrissile wirh a
destructive potcntial almost a hundred timcs that of the bomb
dropped on Hiroshirna. This realm is tlre mrjor capit4l
investment of our culturc, and like the ¿urcient megaliths of

fl n.rc. .IJ
From 1982 to 1985, Hanso¡r photographed a large
coal strip-mine at Colstrip, Montana, along with its ncigh-
boring power plant and factory town. At Colstrip, blesring
is done with explosivcs to remove co¡l from the lower laycrs
of subsoil by an cight-rnillion-pound walking draglinc, the
size of a large office building, whosc shovel can move a
hundred tons of rock in a single bite. Thc inhabitants of Col-
strip Iive in mobile homes and trailcrs centercd arouud tlre
plant, exposcd to its constantly flaslring liglrts, twenty-four-
hour dronc, cooling towers, detonations, sirens and blast
revcrberations. Ian Frazier dcscribed onc of tlrese machines
in Thc Nctu Yorker:

TIlc bucket has tccth thc sizc of a rlan, lnd roorn to

park threc strctch linlos. 'l lrc biggcst of thesc m¿chines
cen strip an arca of several city blocks without moving.
ln thcir wakc, thcy lcavc rrot ruins but ruin. . . . It is
inrpossiblc to irnagine a Cheycnnc war p¿rty corring out
of the canyon, becausc the can¡'on is gonc. . . . Usually,
trash exists in a larger landscapc; aftcr strip mining, the
largcr landscapc rs trash.

Despite federal and statc legislation, thcre are no effective

social or ecological controls and most of thc land is lcft unre-

80
 Q, ...1 ,r i'. :, ,..¡ 2 ' ¡t -._ -
I ;l¡imed. "Do these pictures, then, reflect the spirit of our
H¡/J¿//ilt)i i, I

rime and rhe world we live in, in addition to my own per-

sonal vision)" H¡nson asks.
:i. _ ..

Clearly thev depict one aspect of the interaction of man

lnd nature, contemporary man's vierv of nature and the
rvorltl ¡ror¡nd him.'0lhar is being addressed, from one
¡oinr of vicw. is the h isro¡y_lnd¡lr ilosophy_o LWst¡qrn
civiliz¡tion.
civ Forr-ñé-m-f
i I iza tion. Fo ñi: m:rv see manifesrrrion of
sce here a late manifestation
rtre Ciiñsffiplit betwccn mind end mntter, end the
6ñ'cfu.ñi.."ñftrt',!,l!.,n1n4 -Tlñresulting
loss of a holistic ionlCiousñErs has created a lack of
¡rvareneslof thá rnteiriliiiolsEips between mar¡ and the
rvorld around him.'Thus wc h¡vc a dialectical view of I
man es scpxr¡te from, evcn opposed to, nature and the
subsequent exploiting and ravaging,of nature. ... In a
certain sense what we have here is u geography of the
inental landscape, of our time. I
For Hanson, as for Thomas Berry and many oth-
ers, what we are doing with oui1hnil-ald liow we Iive on'it
has betoqr_e tñé centril@ror
svstcm socializes us to pursuc our own ends, to dominate and
preveil, even xt the cxpense -of others and the earth. The parts
'-f
function rvitl¡out-
rcgrrdt for
¡ -t
the - :
inteiests.of¡ -t .
the whole. Sur- r-l-l
,*"a!ta, control
vival is equated_ry¡! t1i¡¡lnance and power\,to tl l
aarntrarl the
Radlátins from ili-ese pF<rógrafiTlñ
énvirónment.' Radláting
énvirón¡1em.' DFotósraiTlL tlie .s¿lf--r
sélf-tr
devouring nature of the dominator model itself, perpetrating
its mechanisric principles without any regard for the soul of
the rvorld. In our efforts to create a technological "wonder-
uorld." Tve have created a "w,astewoild"'i

nological entr3ncement, an eltered state of consciousness, a

mentJl Iixeti()n that alone can explain horv rve came to ruin
our ¡ir end § i¡ter end soil and ¡o severelÍ-llamf§ll1 our
b¡sic life svstcms unde r ili illusion that-this was gr_ogresi.' "
Th!'.onironr.rrion her*'een thc industrial and the ecologicrl,
',r'r:h sun ir'.rl ¡t s¡¡ke. is nos' the ma jor issue of our time; n<.r
a:ror..truggl.-. .rccorclinq ro Bcrn', hns ever heen of this mag-
: ::--: i..
,l
r,_; lr t,.-. ',1
1
 A.)(ri
Our culturc has feiled to gcncrrtc a living cos-
mology that would enable us to hold the sacredness and
interconnectcdness of. life in mind. Becausc ¡wareness of the
wholc escapes us, we devastatc the land in greed. "Our ulti-
mate failure as humarrs," chargcs I3erry, "is to become not a
crowning glory of thc earth, but the instrument of its degra-
,dation." A few months ago I read a book called The Heart
lof thc Vlorld, about a remote tribe of South Arnerican lndi-
jans. The Kogi live in the Higlr Sierras of Colombia, totally
isolated from the world, and refer to themselves as the Elder
Brothers of the hur¡an race. They do not likc visitors, sincc
they see us, the Youngcr Brothejs, as the thicves, murderers
and destroyers of-thEwóilil-Nlw, in what they fear may be
the closing days of life on earth, they have summoned us to
ilistcn to their message, which is that the world is'beginning
Ito die. Thcy s.ry thet it is not yet too late for us to understand
lthe world in a diffcrcnt way. The Kogi do not ask us to be
,likc thenr, but thcy do say that wc nrust stop taking fucls
from the ground, and wc must stop tearing trccs from thc
,' earth, in the way we do. They also say that they will not
lt
l_ !Lel51[a¡n_, . .
The old seers knew that the earth is a sentient
being. In the past, certain places on the planet were sanctified
because of their high magnetic dcnsity; they wcre places of
cultural re¡rcwal, where one c<¡uld study thc stars or approach
the gods. But sacred sites have suffcrcd an eclipse in recent
centuries, at least in the industrialized areas of the world,
whcre we seem to have lost that capacity for sl.raring con-
sciousness with the universe tl.rat is often the result of visiting
a sacred site. The idea of a magical alignment of the sun,
earth and moon is not a new one-it goes back at least as far
as Stonehengc. It is also_the e.s¡g¡se of Jarnes TqlreJlis l-ong-
term art pro§ffb-uikling an observátory ou rhe s-itc of
-Rodcn-Crlter in a wiltlernisiarea o f]ñEfiiiz------o
n a dcsert. Tur-
'lélltrcqu-ireüthe
crater in 1977; it is one of more than four
hundred that make up the San Francisco volcanic 6eld north
of Flagstaff. This is a setting in which to gather up and es-
similate the grand harmonies of tl.rc cosmos-a place where
you can cxperience geologic, rathcr than nran-rnade, time.

82
 >t ilt|;iliiív ;';tyu¡-^"t i ,r.¡del
You have a porverful sense of standing on the su'rface of the
planet. The feeling of being part of the physical world is very
§frong.
To activate the phenomenon of celestial vaulting,
the crxter bowl has been reshaped, so that if you lie down in
¡he center of the crater, you will experience the sky as a dome.
Turrell intends to bt¡ilcl a tunnel from the base of the volcano
to tlre center of the crater, where, eventually, there will be
four |orver rooms aligned with the axis of the northernmost
sunrise and the soutlrcrnmost moonset. A fifth room will be
set ahor.e the otlrers end will be open to the sky. Thpre will
he no arti6cial light of any lcind. Some spaces will be sensitive
to starlight literally millions of light years away. "The gath-
ered starlight will inhabit tlrar space," says Turrell, "and you
u ill he able to feel the physical presence of the light." Vhen
orrr nornral pcrceptnal filters, which form ¡ kind of barrier
around us, are transcended, or simply drop away, then our
- senses,qan-begin to receive an am
plified -v-ision of the world,
incl u'e can see the universc, thus, as an unh_roken_whole.lule
e3n \ce oursclves as steroust.
The viewer who comes to Roden Crater-in the
tradition of the vision quest or pilgrimage, since it is not easy
ro get there-makes the transition from spectator to partici-
pant. And once up there, according to Turrell, "_the_legqra-
tion that occurs in a gallery_betwe_e_n slectator and arlwork I

is-imn;sslllEw;h-enthe-woili.urroünd-svotrandixtends-tro.
l-h rfn-d rea-m les-¡ 1 i I rl i recrions. For m J üe itates,
tt
t ;ñ-ññ'i-
vóu carry up to an East Side Manhattan aparti^
16m«trr.'.....--ng
ment in an elevator." Central to Turrell's conception of Roden
Crater is his desire "to set up a situation to which I take you
and let vou see. It becomes your experience." The artist does
not o\\'n the experience; instead, he puts rs in front of the
thing itself. so it becomes our experience-rve ger inside the
iendscepe and can develop our orvn affecive ties with it. This
ls -non-r'icarious art.' uhich. according to Turrell, is very
d¡fferent from. sar'. Cézanne's paintings of Mont Sre-Victoire
:\:t present the vies'er s'irh multiple r.iervs of the artist's
r\IErrence s'hile lookinq ar a particular mountain.
Some people are likelv to dismiss the significance

s.l
 of Roden Crater on the grounds that only a few people rvill
ever be able to experience it-the gallery system, after all,
remains more basic to the realities of the art world. Othcrs
wi be concerned that Turrell has unnccessarily tanrpercd
with the wildemess. The c¡uestion is, if fcw people will ever
get to see it, does Turrell's project address a fundarncntal
need in our culturc. and tlocs it neverthcless define a lvorth-
whilc (if difficult) task? "lf wc were truly rnoved by thc beaury
of thc world about us," writcs Thornas Ilcrry, "we lvould
honor thc earth in a profound way. We would ur.rderstand
immcdiatcly and turn aw:ry with e ccrtain horror frorn all
tlrose activities that violatc the integrity of thc planet." "Our
ontological crisis is so sevcrc," writcs ccologist Ilill Dcvall in
his book Simple in Means, Rich in Ends, "th:rt we c¿nnot
wait for the perfect intellectu¿l thct»ry' ro prov-ide us with the
answers. We need earth bonding experiences. .. §lhen a
poet opens tt the door and takes a step outside rh c house of
intálsa=,h. fA¡¡cof óontépts :üd-i5ariáctions and qurn-
tification taught in schools and demanded in environmental
impact statements-he or she may spontaneously havc intcr-
coursc with rivers and mt¡untains. "
Our loss of ecstltrc experience in contemporary
'Westcrn soci.tilas aTEcÉiii..iXb.¡¡of our livls and
created a sense of closure, in which thcrc sce¡ns to be no
alternative, rro hope, and no cxit from tlrc addictive system
we havc crcated. ln our nran-madc cnviro¡rnrents, we lrave
conrfort and luxury, but there is littlc ecstasy-the cumula-
tive effects of our obsession with n¡ech¡nisrn otfer no room
for sucl.r a way of life. L,cstatic cxperiencc puts us in touch
with thc soul of thc world end decpcns our serse that we live
in the midst of a cosmic mystcry. In the catalogue of Turrell's
work, Occluded lront, the art collector Count Panza di Biunro
has writtcn ¡bout his owrr visit to I{oden Crater:

'We
are coming from something bcautiful and rve belong
to sonrething grcat. . . . We do not know that our desirc
for total happiness can be fulfilled, but it c¡n be. [n the
middlc of Rodcn Cratcr, this belicf scetns possiblc. lf
evcryonc were to havc this kinil of cxpericnce, the use

t'l[''. liA '' ¡-IIr:(t:,'''

|¡¡¡!1.'84 '': '
 oi clrLrgs u,ould disappear, no one would commit sui-
cide, ¡nd violence would stop. Unfortunately, few will
m¡kc this journey-rf they did, the world would change.

F cst.rsr rs an a rc[_q!y?r!l need of oui 6ding;t and if we don't

-gJi ir in a iegitimate wav, ilcoiáiiig-tci Róbé'rt
Johnson, who
i:.rs rvritten on the subject in his book Ecstasy, we will ger it
in an illeeitimare way-rvhich accounts for much of the chaos
oi our culrure. Boredom, cynicism and chronic materialism
rre rJl svmptoms of our higher need for an ecstatic dimen-
sron in our life.
"\X¡ith the gods gone," writes R. Murray Schafer,
!.r composer, writer and media theorist who lives in rural
Ontario, "humanity reelly began to angle in a different direc-
¡ion. Life became a struggle to get aheád." lWhat was lost,
S ch a f er
-cl a i m s, was rh e a b i l i ry, to_ f ee l _th e d i_v-i n e-th at wh i ch
goes brvoncl the man-made environment. In the modern world,
th e- mi n.m d e én v ilbn máni h ás beén perva sivel y organ i zed
¿r

around the linearity of goal-directed, object-oriented activ-

itv, and for centuries our art has been produced to conform
to these kinds of controlled spaces, which have been carefully
neutralized so that nothing unwanted can intrude, Schafer
maintains that music, too, has lost its participatory and ecstatic
¡spect in the modern era, having been pervasively shaped by
the same distinctive feature of W'estern art: walls.
Why not hold a concert under a waterfall or in a
[¡]izzard? Schafer asks. Music performed in living environ-
ments such as forests, mountains, caves, or, if need be, in
snou'fields or tropical jungles, offers the opportuniry to breathe
clean air and experience the sunrise. tn th e[Eutlidiál sp ace
of rhe concsrt h:rll. evervthing is willfully a rññgeEJo;;r x -
imum comforr and high-fidelity sound, and a costly appa-
r¡¡us consisrine of stagehands, lighting and recording
engineers. rcorrsticians. ntanagers, box-office attendlnts,
¡L::licisrs. printers. critics. broadcasters, publishers and
:i-.r-r:Jinq companies expecting to make profits ensures that
'...',:i :.r : ion.l ;,¡,,n. .r rc i n irII ibI v m¡intainecl. AlI rhis "main-
r

:i:r.r:.. ¡.ln hc ¡r oi.lcJ. ;rccording to Schafer, simply bv

^ -. :: r'.::Jr).r:i.
,

s5
 "Modern theory teaches that revolutions in art
occur when styles are challengcd," says Schafer. "But they
ignore the bigger revolution of context." In the normal phys-
ical environnrent of the theater or concert hal[, the purchase
of an admission ticket indicates to the audience that it does
not have to eant its way in; the audience is not required to
work, learn, act or participate in any way. All that is required
of customcrs is that they be able to afford the pricc of admis-
sion. Performances are usually given in the evening, at a
comfortable temperature, preferably on a full stomach, and
with a time limit of three to four hours, so as not to interfere
with work schedules. For Schafer, this definitely represents
the uncosmic version of art, hardly distinguishable from
entertainment. "Yes," he write s, "the little orb of excitement
which beats in your heart when you go to the theatre or hear
an orchestra is the sar¡e as that bigger orb of vitality which'
animates the savage drummer or dancer, but his shakes him
out of this world and yours merely bunts you back onto the
same street. "
The notion of pilgrimage is crucial in Schafer's
work, as it is in Turrell's-you have to make your way, at
some effort, to a special place in order to have the experi-
ence. To see Schafer's operu Tbe Princess of the Stars, for
instance, the audience must arrive at a lake in the middle of
the night, and find their way to the embankment. At 5:00
e.rra., precisely, the performance begins with the appearance
of the presenter in a canoe. Actors and dancers can be heard,
chanting in an unknown language from other canoes at the
center of the lake, while the musicians and singers are hidden
in the surrounding trees. The cast consists of two mixcd
choruses, a solo soprano, four actors, six dancers, a flute,
clarinet, trumpet, horn, trombone, tuba, four percussionists
and twenty canoeists. As the mythopoetic story unfolds, Wolf
is searching for the lost princess, who has fallen to the bot-
tom of the lake. When he fails to find her, the Dawn Birds
are summoned to assist him-six dancers in six canoes, who
comb the waters for the princess. Meanwhile, the musicians
are singing birdcalls to the real birds, who now begin to
awaken and sing. The opera is timed to end exactly at sun-

86
 I- ,:i1Jl irl¡Lili¡'r
::.e. * i¡h the appearlnce of the Sun god, who will rescue the
::i:rccss. Sch:r fer writes:

Insteld of a somnolent evening in upholstery digesting

dinner, this work takes place before breakfast. No inter-
nrission to cr¿sh out to the bar and guzzle, or slump
b¡ck afrcr a smoke. No women in pearls or slit skirts. It
u ill be an efforr ro get up in the dark, drive thirty miles
or more to arrive on a damp and chilly embankment, srt
¡nd rvair for thc ceremony to begin. And what cere-
monv ) Dawn itself, the most neglected masterpigce of
the modern world.... And like all true ceremonies, it
crnnot be adeqrrately transported elsetvhere. You can't
pokt'it into a tclcvision scrL,en... you must feel it...
vou must go rherc, go ro rhe site, for it will not come to
v ou.

lilgrimege is-:rn old idee br-rt, as Schafer poinrs out, when

oi,..r tivc rhot:sTñdiió-Élillivel ro a remote leke in the Rocky
\lountains to sec a performance, it is evidently one for which
r irere is .t contcmporxrv longing.

Jusr as light pollution now prevents us from truly

-(ccirlg tlrc universe, noise pollution prevents us from hearing
rt. In his book Táe Tuning of thc \X/orld, Schafer describei
hox' thc soundscape of the world has changed from what it
used to be; the different quality and intensity of modern,
technological sounds from the more organic and living sounds
of rhe past has macle noise pollution a world problem. There
irre no steadv-sfxte, uninterrupted day-and-night sounds in
nirture-all bioloeical sounds rise and die out. Even the birds
phese in a n_d out rvith e_a_ch¡theri r¡ ej/_nsy:e r sing el! et onte.
Bilonrr.r.,i. ihe r1.11.;ioñiinuóñ droñes of tlie irüt¡srrinl
r-n\ rronment ¡re to\ic ¡nd lilr¡t
'is _ot[Eáql'ff& lna.,it.i"t noir.
.r killei. t'erformiñg hls-rr.ork ouilde ii narure, however,
j,,.. not rignifv "dropping our" oI the technological rr,orld
:': r¡r.r:i:. R-r:ltcr. rhc inrr'nrion is to cultivrrte a sense of
-'r::::: ,',:::r .i ,.,r.: t¡i,iOqr'. rVith a scener\' that can't be
, :-:- ii. ::t ,':.tr.:,.r ,.:nJerstrrncl thrlt \\'ofking tyitlt nature
--r-::-. .L :i::: , ':t :.'t:,)rc i t(.rn]s. Bv responsiVe ¡nd careful

\-
 i'

listening to thc netural ',vorld, Schafer hopes to mirke tl.ris

undcrstanding a prrcticc through his art, which is paccd by
the rhythnrs of nature and linkcd with tlre grcater movcrlents
of the cosrnos.
Since musicians are thc pcoplc who arc most
attuned to sounds, Schafcr proposcs th¡rt tlrcy bcgin to think
more comprehensively and take responsibility for orclrcstrat-
ing and controlling the whole acoustic envir<¡n¡¡c¡rt. Musi-
cians, Ire feels, could hclp alleviate noise pollution through
refashioning our soundscape so it is more in tune with natu-
ral models. Obviou nsion of our usual
- notion of tlle¡Úst's role. "To be an engaged artist, " Schafcr
states, "used to mcan bcing cor.rcerned with thc restoration
of certain social inrbal¡¡rces. Today wc could use the word
with regard to thc rcstoration of ccrtain ecological lmbal-
ances. " Art moved by empathic attune¡nent, not tied to arr
art-lristorical logic but orienting us to thc cyclcs of life, helps
us to rccognizc that we are part of an intcrconncctcd web
that ultirnately wc cannot domin¡tc. Such art begins to oifcr
a con.rplctcly different way of looking at the world.
A few years ago, Lynne Hull, an artist who lives
and works in §fyoming, began etching srnall, glyphlikc syrn-
bols into rock surfaccs-m()stly on private land itt remote
dcsert areas of \ü/yoming and Utah. Shc incised thcrn deeply
enough so that they can servc as pockcts, or slnell trcnches,
for holding water or snowmclt. These f'hydroglyp_$," as Hull
calls them, help tt-r storc tl.re desert's rnost prccious comnrod-
ity and thus function as a watcr supply for desert creatures
to drir-rk. Hull write s:
Except in a very few instances, ¿rll nr¿¡r's activities erc
aimcd at benefitting himself, as a spccics if not as att
individual. . . . Hirsn't civilization brought mlnkincl to a
point whcre he could takc actions which rvould bcncfir
primarily other spccics? And if art is a leading ctlge of
civilizati<¡n as wc hope it is, was it possiblc that this ide¿
of trans-specics action could be done as art?

The hydroglyphs havc bcc<.¡nrc part of an ongo-

ing project of dcsigningfart for animals,"lworks that will

88
Ronald Joxes
Unrirled (Nov Human lmmr¡node6cicncy Virus
Rursting
trom I lrfrcrovillus), .19,18
Brc»t :c, tt't¡od. litncstotte
llt/: x l,\ x 1)"
Coürtesy the drt;st dnd Metro pictures. Na¿¿ york
Peter Halley
Two Cells with Circulating Conduit, 1987
Day-Clo acrylic, acrylic and Roll-A-Tex ot canuas
//,hx 1Jó
Collection oI Dakis ]oannou, Atbens
Courtesy Sonnabend Gallery, New York

Allan McColLum
Plaster Surrogates, 19 82- 1 9 84
(1985 installation: Metro Pictwes, New York)
Enamel on Hydrostone Dimensions variable
Courtesy lohn\Yeber Gallery, New Yorh
Sberrie Leuine
Undded (After \[alker Evans: 7),
1981
Pbotograpb
10x8"
Couaesy Mary Boone Gallery, AGNES MARTIN
Neut York
NEW PAINTINGS

Soao¡ bakc
-{gÉ \l¡rtin-
Oa¡óc¡ 1986. r 98-
SEPTEVBts.R 19-25 OCIOI]ER
OJot lr*c,¡
626'
Cot¡ Tq* St'¡ti.si Gal^Á,
.\'¿:¡- l'.¡i
Dauid S¿lle
BAMFV, I984
Oil <»t catvas and sdtin, witb obiects 101 x 145"
Courtesy Ldrry Gagosian Gallery, Neut York

\";3,n

Haifl Stciibdcb
supremely black, I98i
29x66x13"
Sbelf with ceranic púcbers and detcrgent borcs
Courtesy lay Comey Modcnr Art ¿nLl Sor¡¿b¿nd Gullery, Neu' Yori
 Tony Tassett
Domesric Abstraction
Courtesy Rhona Hoffman Gallery,
Chicago

R¡rl»¿r¿ Knt?e¡
Unrrrled
I shop rherctbre I ami.
,9(-
P-,t.,1¡¡hr s *scrce¡. ti¡.,.l
lll r 1l)'
O*'tc:t ll¡n, B,¡.,n¿ G¿lltn,
\¿-¡ ) ari
 I

Ricbard Serra
Tilted Arc, t 98l
Gortet steel
2 x 120'
Courtesy Leo Castelli Gallery and Artists RiEhrs
Society, New york
.\l ierlc I-adcrnan U kelcs
The Social l\.Iirror, Ne¡¿ York, 1983
20 cubrc-1'ard garbage collection truck fitted in band-tenpered
eltss nirror witb additional sttips of ntirrored acrylic
Collectiott of tbe Nell York City Depattmeflt ol Satitation
Courtes,,' Rontld Feldman Finc Arts, New York
 Richard Rosenblum
Manscape, 1985
Epoxy
8x4x21/¿'
Collection of The Addison Gallen
oÍ American Art, Andover, Mass.'

R.a<hxl Dtno¡
T¡urus- I98J
\l¡xc,! mcda
9l¡19xi!
Fern Shaffer
Crystal Clearing, 'iflintcr Solstice, 1986
l'hoto by Othello Anderson

David T. Hanson
Rocky Mountain Arscnrl, Ada»rs Cowtty, CLtlo., 1986
From the series Waste Land
Ektacolor pri t, gelatin siluer print d d modified
U.S.G.S. topogtd?hic »tdq
17 x 47"
The Princ-ess oJ the Stars, daun rinal, Banff Centre
Festital, Ban fl.,l ll,trta, Cau¡,1a, l g tt S for tbe Arts
Desi¡ntJ l,y lurtrd ard Diana Smith
Pboto bv Fd F,llts
Courtesi, Tbe Itat{f Cantre for tbe Arts, Banff, Albertd, Canadd
Lynnc Hull
Raptor I{oost L-7, with Stuahsotis bawk, Albany County, \Yyo., 1988
'Wood,
stone, found nrctals
16' bigh
Phot<t by Bertrard de I'eyer
Robert lanz
Patrici;r's Lily, Dublin, Irelantl, 1988
Process drawings, cbarcoal, draun and erased daily lor ten d.ays

Andy Goldswortby
Touching North, No¡b Pole, 1989
Photo by Julian Calder
Courtesy Fabian Carlsson Gallery, London
 Rachel Rosenthal
L.O.W. in Gaia, 1986-1987
Photo by Jan Deen

Krzysztof Wodiczko
Homeless Vehicle Project,
New Yorh, 1989
Cou*sy Josb Baer Gallery
and Restless Productions, Neu,' York

lobn Malpede
Performance by lohn Malpede
and tbe Los Azgeles Pouerty Department
Pbon by Lukas Felzmann
 -:- -R.,1..:¡-. ¡zd l{.O.S-
! -<- . .: ll. ¡ 9\ i. / 9¡16
-,',, »urker c¡n b¡¡r¡kpages (Kafka's Amerika) on linen
- - :-1
'-, ;1 -, !.1 -\¡!/E-c

:--< l:-. ¡-: !:: ;- : ?¿-.'.rrnrnce ht Su:¿¡ne L¿cy wth phyllis

',t- :.-- ---. i:¡-<--r );,,r¿ Jz'Í \'¡¿rv lane Rose,
-j-
..t_--.--
D¡,1¡¡S.
:: 1r.,:,1 -.^
-. : --, -- ':a- -;a,.:-
..
Dominique Mazeaud
The Great Cleansing of
the Rio Grande River, .1988 Bradley McCalhm
Photo_"by Dwayne Edward Rourke Park Bench Sheltcr: A Collaboration
in Process, Nez Hauen, Conn.,
1990
Dimensions uatiable

Cie! pergma4 fu.k.a. Cberyl Bowers)

A Singlé Flower at the Bottom of the Occan will Last for Centuries, 1989
Oil and wax on catuas 60 x 84"
Collection of the artist Pboto by William Dewel
.\rsr in the landscape in a beneficial way by making small'
:L-lFrovements to the lrabitats of wildlife. "l've had a long-
.:.rnding interest in earth or site-specific art," Hull states, "but
:óó often it secmed so egocentric---on a grand scale, to go
.,ut ¡ncl abuse the land in the name of art-which, as much
:. I love some of these pieces and enjoy hr.rnting them dorvn,
::J nor secm enough. I felt a growing ne'ed to-mq\e a positive
:Íirure ro the errth. Couldn't there be a small-scale, nurtur-
-:. nerhaps ér,cn 'feminine' land art?" Hull also became
:',:;¿rned uith thc way that eagles and other birds of prey
::. selnq electrocr¡red by power transmission lines in parts
:: \ci;¡'ke. llore than five hundred birds a year are elec-
::'.::::J rn this rvay. Her painted wooden sculptr-rres placed
: -: :: :ir¿ I:rndscape are designed to provide a safer place to
:.-:r a,,r rhc has'ks, eegles and owls of the prairies. Pas-
i.:rr'. ::rrl enjov them as sculptures, while the birds have a
;.2:.. . ",':rnq pl¡c¡. Since making the "raptor roosts,r' Hull
::! i.i-. ;:e:red floating sculptures-small islands on which
-.'.:.:' '.,.. .¡n nest and "loaf," as the 6sh and game depart-
^
--: :: . r:. All hcr dcsigns are made with--t-t"r-e, help-o{-wild--
'i ^. .r:.r. ind zoolqgists.
- P.rinring florvers in all stages of the life cycle is a
^:'. :- : R..,'5ert Janz, an Irish-t¡orn artist living in New York,
--: ::-:: :.,::h a voice for nature, by tuning in to its cyclical
:i:,:.r!:!-:rn :l\r'arencss r,ve heve lost in our linear, Carte-
r .:: -.:..! .,: re¡lirr'. A flor.vcr buds, blooms, ages and dies. It
-.zi :: '. .i r rhvrhm, not ried to the clock. The flower trans-
:i:-:i::.:.-,..rgil rime; but a drrwing is normally static, fram-
-,: .:.: :-, ::e.i moment. For Janz, therefore, the drawing must
: i'- ::::':,,,:::r. through a continual process of erasure and
-:::.:.¡ :::. D r¡-s r ng,becomes,.process, fluid-energy patterns
_

:-. '. '. .: r'. ri,irne. \'ou don't control the subject-it's more
', -.
= i:' :.:::.rn : product. morc like a living activiry as the
:': :: ::::f:- :: thc qallerv each dav to erase and draw over
": ^'-1. : ::< grcr it.rus dar'. Arc \\'c ;l\\'ere that the florver
! : -....-.-.: l:. 5¡.j h.ls opcned: non.a petal has fallen off.
'.-:1 .3;.11,1 r,l:he tirarvlng is the real draB'ing, Janz asks.
'.:.1 --
--.:::': -:1.';:c,'f thc tlorvcr rs thc rcal florver? Ittakcs
::- ::'. i : i.: :i. ,r iroie dra$ rng. \'ou can't see it in less

\9
 time; you can't spced up the process. A¡rd thcrc is no fixcd
identity, no sti¡tic statc; all that. is left ¿rt tlre end are tr¡ces of
fonner marks, former life . This is timc gathcred into wl.role-
ness, the cyclical rhythm of life taught by thc fcminine prin-
ciplc, which connccts us to tlle natural order of growth and
decay.
"Our specics hes become arrogant," writcs Gary
Zukav in 'fhe Seat of the Soul. "We behave as though the
earth were ours to do witl.r as wc plcasc. . . . The cyclcs of
life need to be approached with rcverence. They have bcen
in place for billions of years." This revision of our tin.re-hori-
zon is crucial. Our culture is orie¡rted to short-tcrm values;
we don't yet think systernically. The dumping of nuclear waste ,
whosc malignant conscqucnces rarni[y for a million yeers, is
just one example of our inability to expcricnce time as whole,
to nrakc thc futurc rcal in tlrc prcscnt. l{cal tinrc is not just
the present, but the time it takcs for an event to work itself
out. The dunrping of ¡ruclcar waste is one consequence of
being out of tune with thc land, of not bcing ablc to hc¡r its
voice. Blaming industry is irrelcvant, according to Jauz, sincc
Exxon, the World Bank, politicians, all develop from our
group assumptions, the code so many people share;dO¡t.
nance and protit, expansion a¡r.l w,lste.l We are discovcring
that thc natiiie whicli-sustains us is also in [ralance with us,
and the balance has been lost. For Janz, thc flower is not
inconsequential. The flower is the voise of the iandfpeskil,g.
If Thomas Bcrry is correct, and the historical
rnission of our times is to develop a new cultural coding for
the ecological age-a more integral language of bcing and
value that can overcorne the devastating consequcnces of thc
existing mode of cultural coding, which encouragcs high
consumption and high waste-then creating an art thxt is
integral with this pqw qodlng r¡4y ryqll be!1e nelt phase of
o,qlaesthctic tradition. Janz nrakes a similar claim:

Significant, worthwhile art today sce ms to me to be that

art which points to, which focuscs on, thc prpblern of
restoring the balance. We tlon't nce d an ,rrt of imposi-
tion anynrore. Wc nectl so¡nething clse. lt is thc subtcxt

ILllu¡Lt '-¡t¡¡ i-t);t] 90

it'i- i\il i'i l
l, l
I
,
 \//
ii .'
l1'.1 )tt),ii '
of ¡rt rhat is the issue. The subtext of important art today,
saleal¡lc art today, is power and prestige. That is the real
subtcxt in a Richarcl Scrra sculpture or a Frank Stella
prinring; it's Brand Art for:r Brand Culture. A big cor-
porir¡ion [ruys this important "brand art" and it says:
"Wc br¡nd rhe lantl. Wc arc powerful and prestigious,
antl rve impose. We make things happen." That is the
subtext of contcmporary art. \Vhereas rvhat we actually
need, since we've l¡ecome a cancerous society, destroy-
inq our pllnet eyectly the rvay that crncer cells destroy
us- is rn rrr rvhosc subtexr is balance and aftunement.
.\rt rlso pollutes, const¡mes the world. What abou¡ self-
::¡.ure in art-¡rt that cleans up after it§elf ?

Ir is clcar that this kind of ecological subtext for

:::-:, * hich I mean a recognition of the reality that all
:-:::i .'r:'c linked together in the cyclical processes of nature-
i - : :o hc' for¡nd in the official picture of mainstream aes-
:-:::j<. (). no¡ so far. But it is equally clear that increasing
-,-:.:i ,ri ¡rtists ire beginning to think, feel and act more
-: :: '-.-,..r. .rs rhel' pcrceive the need for a radical reevalt¡a-
r -- : :r(- rnstitutions and ideologies associated with the
:, - :::,,: nrodel.
In ¡he cese of Andy Goldsworthy, an English art-

5
'' "a:-': -:::i a:ocesses.
-\\1en l'm rvorking rvith material," he states, "it's
- -: -.: i:: ¡-.r: r¡r rhe stone . . . [that] I'm trving to under-
.::-:.: :: .:::le l.ol¡ted ohiec¡ but nxture as a rvhole-
- .i :-: ¡;i :.'¡,. g¡or,r'n. horr it has changed. hou, it has
:.::.:a. - .., :r.'.\e.1iher'\ ¡ffected hv it. Bv rvorking with
'- .'-' - :- : .rJi I icgrn ro understand rhese processes."
- j-.. --. '.;. -..- i::¡¡:l'' rr n.rture. htlt he does his work

.r1
 without tools, and ivhat he rnakes-latticcs of horse ches¡nur
leavcs stitched togcther r.vith grass stalks, fresh grccn blades
of spring grass with rvhite stems placed around the circum-
fercncc of e holc like a sunburst, ycllow tlandclions threaded
onto grass stalks and laid rn ¿ streanl,:¡ zigzag trail of brackcn
fronds on the ground-usually blows away in the rvind or
rain, somctir.nes after only a few scconds. Ephemcrality and
impcrmancnce are thc very hcart of his work.
Goldsworthy tries to pl.rotogreph rhc work before
tlris rut.¡rucnt o,f dipersal-bcfore it cruru[',lrs, rrrclrs ur ¡urr
blows rwey,'ro br' re.l¿illred by narurc. "l cJtln()t sttrp tlrc
rain falling or a strc:rÍn running," he seys. "When Iwork
with a lcaf, rock, srick, it is not just the material in itsclf, it
is arr opcning into the processcs of life in aud arouncl it. When
I lcave it, these proccsscs colltinue. ... T}rcsc things are all
part of a transient proccss tlrat l. cannot understand unless
n.ry touch is also transient-only so is the cycle unbrokcn, the
proccss complete." As with Janz, tur.ring in to nature's cycles
is crucial-the sense of working with nature on neturc's terrns.
Srrow is his favorite medium, although in other se¿sons he
will use feathers, leaves, f1ou,crs, stones or grass. "l often
work through the night with s¡row or icc," hc says, "to gcr
tcmpcraturcs cold enor.rgh for things to stick togethcr. But
then daybreak-sunlight which brings the work to lifc-will
also gradually causc it to fall apart." Mt.¡st of Goldsworthy's
works don't even lest for a day. Hc crrloys rvorking in diverse
settings, from the Arizona desert to thc British cmbassy gar-
.den in Copcnhagen and to Harnpstead Hcath in London. [n
Japan his work was reccivcd with grcat entlrusiasm, sincc ¡s
l.re says, "-lt is in the n¿rture oI thc Japanese not to quesrioll
thc valuc of somcthing which is not goirrg ro l¿st."
, Tlrc cxpcriencc of a ritual journey into wildcrncss
became part of a series of cxtraordinary works crcated in
1989 at the North Pole. Goldsrvorthy wcnt to the Arctic island
of Ellesr-nerc and apprer.rticed to an inuit, Looty Pitj.rrnini,
wl.ro tauglrt him how fo cut and pack snow. Camping at the
North Polc for four d:rys, they wcre joined by the photogra-
pher Juliarr Calder, and Goldsworthy crcatecl 'fouchiry Nortb,
a kind of ice-henge at the iery top of the world: circles made

92

)
 ' i .i t ; ¡ - '
: ::¡kcJ sno\\' bricks at thc four points of the compass;
.r:i::.. .rn(1 spircs; a group of tcn-footJrigh stacked cones that
'.::'.'.1 :he sh;rpcs of distent mot¡ntains; a jagged comb on
:-:::.zcn L'\pxnse, u,ith gient teeth for the wind to blow
:':,,:::h. ln rhc Arctic, snow is blue.\The sun doesn't rise or
.::.:: rhe \orth I\rJe, [rut just keeps on circling aroi,rnd, pro-
:-:::r m.rgical petterns of light and shadorv, so the appear-
:- -: ,i rhc sculpturcs altercd constantlv-before, of coursc,
:-:. r!:.1n to blorv ewey. In this lanclscape, there arc no trees
- - -'.:.. onlv icc, end the coldest wind in the rvorld. As
-. :-.1 ,:¡hr clescribes it, the North Pole, is¡no¡e like a feel-
-: :-,r: .r place. the pure cssencc of winter, the energy of
'. ':-. :.:ri rt [re]ongs !o no onc. At lcast, not so far. The oil
. -: - '-'- l:( p('j\c(1. re:r,ly for tllt tlkeovér.
Thc r.'el mess¿gc of thcse artists'\,vorks, if prop-
:- : -- - .i:crl. hils the potcntiel to recon6gure our irlellec-
-l
. - ' ".: . ¡lr s¡irittrrl oricntatioñ in tlie wiirld. \
' :- ,::: 'iirl rrrrJend rcvcrénce Íói ihe grandeur ol
'
--:
f.rscination
::-:-. .-,. Thr¡mas Bcrrv so eloquendy argt¡es, the energy
-::::i'-::i lr('scr\'¡tion $'ill never bc devcloped. Our
:. -- - ---::.'r:1ccment" rvith industrialism is what is pre-
:-'-: :-. '-::rg.trion of this c'lestructive process-since rve
.:: : , I..,licr e it is thc nccessary condition for our
. -.: '.r'nc-n its ilcsolating effects have become so
- -i .,.. :,:rce ive thc [¡asic lifc-support systcms clos-
- ;1' ¡¡. .1r5.¡¡¡l¡s
. -r':i rs onlv one \\'xv tlris disastrous culturll
-: -
- ,: - :.:: ¡r ch.rnqed,:rccording to llerry, and that is
- ': :...:.- -: .:: tmrnorirl reletionship with the natural world.
' .- - .- -, . '-',. \rlqLre of thc l¡ncl irself th:rt goes beyoncl
-'. - ,-" : ::c¡l ¡nd economic needs; this is the only
' -- - .- r.n\ 1r()nnrrnrir] concern-il love of thc e¡rth

-. :¡-', r1i('s :h!' tof, nriorit\'. this cvoc¡tion ot :l

' - :-.: :. :irc rolc L.cing tirlfillcd b-r'_l,rrist-s,¡ncl
- 1' - j - .: -:' -r.:, :i c'iiJvl\[s. s-ho;rrc bLrilding ecolog,-
- :- - .::(: \ rc\\' \Lrah croc;rti<Irs ils Ciihcr
. ( (,^r r) rtr'1,!
i - __ ¡ ,' .¡.1:
(: rtrrr ,i {ujr
the carth ls the necessary c<¡ndition for its rcscuc fronr thc
inrpcnJing dcstruction wc arc inr¡rosirrg on it.
In a powerful solo perform,rrrce work cntitlcd
L.O.W. [Lor.rer on Vheels] in Gaia (hrst perfortned in.fanu-
ery 1986), ltachcl l{oscnthal-a rguably tlrc rur¡st significent
pcrforrnance rrrtist in Los Angeles-po rtrirys sevcral per-
sonac. Onc of tl.rcsc is the Earth, manifesting irs thc l)eath
Cronc. Another is a fortieth-ce¡ltury monstcr, our dcsccn-
dant. And she also plays hersclf, with head shaved to appear
androgynous, as she drags more ¿rnd nrore of her w:rste rvith
her, in garbage bags roped to hcr body. ln anothcr perfor-
¡nance, called Caia Mon Anrour, tlrere is a blackout as a
nuclear explosion hits the hall. Roscnthal rises from a pile of
debris to the ticking of a Geiger countcr end the buzzing oi
flies. When, ñnally, the L,arth docs spcilk, what we hear, lis-
tening to her voicc, is the primal voice of a dispossesscd
a rchctypel power:

Things are incxorablc, aud you canrtot

escapc thc Kann¡r of my continuunr.
I anr angry at your cscalating.rss:rults.
You rlelludc tne. Turn rrrl rrrrrlrrrc ittto
aridity.
Yotr ¡rlurr.lcr. Yt¡u cxe¡r'.rtc. . . .
You are trying to paralyzc nrc-to turn lt)e
into a broken toy, its mcchanisrr spilling
out of its guts, kept functional
onl¡'through the heroic rnd Faustirn tricks
of your tcchnology.
You drivc me underground, whcre I am still
myself and move according to my will and
nature.
Down thcrc I h¿vc no usc for you. I rcvcrt
to who I was rt the bcginning.
Dow¡r thcrc I aur a dcmt¡n who dcstroys in
an instant wh¡t it tor¡k nrc nrillions oi ycars
to build.
I shovc ttrc contincnts around.
Smash lndia into Tibct.
Crash Africa up Italy's br>ot.
Play scrabble with the North-Arrcricrn
West.

94
 Spin Europe like a top.
Lif¡ the scas up to thc peaks. . .

I play and you die . . .

Withour sentimentaliry.
Alive or dead, it is all the same to me.
llut vou pump ¡ne full of poisons. You
force-feed me substances I cannot
rolerate.
I try to absorb, to burn, to cleanse, but
more comes.
Always more.
My bowels hurt.
I am ill.
I wariño-vomit
-My -intétineiburst
!

My stomach lining cracks!

Enough !.F¡ough !.

As this book So9: jq_Us§, luerfJs,]undred oil

6res ¡rc still burning in Fuwait._Newspapers stete thct the
protective ozonc layer over densely populated areas of the
United States has thinned twice as fast as previous proiec-
tions, and heavier doses of ultraviolet radiation are leaking
ro the ground for longer periods of the year. "The problem
is more seriot¡s thrn we thought," says EPA administrator
\\'illi¡m Rcillv. --- I
The Kogi make no predictions. They only say that I

if u'e do not clrange, they truly believe the world will die. It
r¡:-- ;e¡se ro be fertile. "Does the Younger Brother under-
¡a--Li ¡ ::: he h.rs done? Does he?"

9_i
 Cuaprrn 7
MexlNc Anr es lF THE Wonlo
MR-r'rrnro
Models of Partnership

To be a useful person' has always appeared to

me to be sometbing particularly horrible.
Charles tsaudelaire

Tbe atomic indiuidualism of patriarchy

destroys mucb of the fabric of the hwnan
community. Such a damaged community is
incdpable of understandfug the needs of its own
members, much less of the nonhunt¿n world.
Michael Zimmerntan

The assumption of being an indiuidual is our

greatest lintitation.
Pir Vilayat Khan

'§?'e
spend a lot of time, in contemporary Wesr-
ern civilization, dealing with the feeling that we arc alone in

96
:hr' s orld irnd thxt peoplc do not really care about each oth-
r'r'\ \\'elfarc. The world ¡s an oppressive and brutal place in
rr hich pcoplc survive onlv at each other's expense has been
rhc lei¡r¡otiv of Sue Coe's art for meny years. Her paintings
h.rve bcen comparcd favorably with Goya's war paintings
.rnd Picasso's Guernica by a number of critics, who include
her in the traclition of other artists who have embodied a
strong political conscience in their rvork, like Honoré Dau-
nrie'r and George Grosz. In a catalogue preface to her travel-
ins shorv Policc Stnte, Donalcl Kuspit describes Coe, en English
irrtist now residing in New York, as "tl.re greatest living prac-
trtioner of con frontational, revolutionary art," end considers
her s'ork to he "¡ seisrnographic record of the faultlines where
social catrrstrophcs are likely to occur."
ln Coe's l'olice State series, paintings made on
bleck grounds dcpict with relentless and secthing violence
thc many dehumanizing forces at work in our sociery because
of its dominator meclranisms. There are grossly caricatured
visions of Ronald Reagan, the CIA, Wall Street, the scientific
estlblishment, ¡he Cntholic Church, Union Carbide, slum
l¡ndlords and riot police, all portrayed as tormentors in the
acr of dcstroying their victims. The victims are poor people,
erhnic minorities, wonren and anirnals used in experimental
science Iabor:¡tories, rvho are being subjected to appalling
sccnarios of hunriliation, vi<¡lence end rapc at the hands of
the tormentors. Coe's work makes Dante's Inferno seem
:rlnrost cosv bv comprrison. Her paintings read like a log-
book of the d¡rk ancl vicious underbelly of corporate, con-
sunrcr c;rpit:rlisnr, tr¡nscribcd ¡t its lcast illuminating moments:
rhe ¡ssassinarion of lVlelcolm X in the Audubon Ballroom in
l9l'.i, *'hilt' hc \\':rs ir(lclre ssing the Organization for Afro-
-\l¡r'ric¡n Unr¡r'; lromeless wo[ren hanging out and misera-
hl.' in Pcnn Sr:rrion: a hl¡ck bodv indifferentlv tossed into a
\.urt.rti()r'r rrt¡ck rr ith the rcst oi thc garbage. A more recent
..rrrs. !,nr¡tl(.d l'rtrkrtpolis-t hrrge bodv of s'ork encom-
:.I\\ilig (\ ar\ ihrng fron.r p.rinrrngs on paper to broadsides-
¡ ¡^. ,.(. ¡:'r! :'.:iiric r.. lrnrcol«rqic:rl pr:rcticcs of thc rlcat-pncking
.:i-:.::'. ..r:.: J :.r¡:,,:'r r¡rnring. in rvhich rhe hogs are fed with
:-. : ,"\: r\a:(:-t ::.'lt\(J rr ith concrete dust. The erhibirion

9-
trllI ¡' ; , t{l' 1,.'i
l'r' ,.' I
is the result of two ycars' firsthantl obscrvation in slirugl.rtcr-
houses and meat-packing plaiirc-aóioss thc country, and
iñClude-i ln impressive arloul-lt of factual documentation.

Statc was shown at Virginia Co¡nmonwealth University's

Anderson Gallery. My students visited the show, and one of
tl.rem, Denisc Giffard, summed up thc r-lneasincss that somc
people fe lt on seeing the paintings. " l left her show witl.r a
strong impression of the ills of the world," Ciffard rvrotc,
"and overwhelmed and frustrated by the enormity of the sit-
uation, but no closer to any idea on how to help. If anything,
her art created such despondency that it almost suggcsted the
futility of any positive efforts." A lot of frustration and rage
is being ventcd in Coe's work, but the paintings scem unde-
viatingly to focus only on what's'wrong. A great deal of '
modern art has been witness in this way to humanity's cruel-
ties and estrangement. The vision is so oppressive tll¡t it is
hard to find evcn the srnallcst opportunity for opening. From
Ñch a vision, how do you build the sane ideogram? The
I question for rne at this tirne is whcthcr ¡rtists cen be l posi-
Itive force in trensfor¡ning tlre._plr.r..lignr of alrcn:rtion.
According to art historian Robcrt Roscnblum (writing in a
1987 catalogue, Art against AID§), "By now we arc all
lldisenchantcd enough to know that no work of art, however
llmuch it may fortify thc spirit or nourish the eye and rnind,
Jlhas the slighrest powcr ro save a life." I cite this quote because
' I think it dranle¡izcs the primary assumption :rb()ut art in our
time-tl.rat it is only art, and therefore por,r'crless in the real
world. The assumption is one I should like to put to the test
in this book.
From within the paradigm of rrlienation, it has
been difficult for individuals to feel responsible for condi-
tions in the world over which they fecl tlrey have no control.
But as we begin to movc toward a new ecology of conscious-
ness, and the world becomcs understood as a place of inter-
and intercq¡r.rgc-tion, thc challenge will be to break
-liaction
through the Crrtesian illusions that have gcnerated the
I impression of separation and detachn.rent. Relationship is the
I kcy insight of ecology. ln the modern world, we tend to think

',É
fl I,,\ll rrBrl tLtUtaÜrl t , lttlt '

,,,, ,,' f
til ¡¡'¡ lr"t': ,I ,gg'/ \.li ti .. i
,,f .r.r e *clt,rir,"lv in ternrs of a visual parariigm; modern aes-
:hrtrcs is part of a whole culturel project of objecrificarion
::.¡i channcls pcrccption into modes that are detached and
-:1.¡r¡ct. forcing Lrs to remain in a modalitv where our gaze
:. :h.rr of ¡he derached observer. The artist is sttpposed to l'te
:::.ir()nrlly distanccd from the evcnt he is portraying, .1925,
: --.' ,:Jing to Ortega v Gasset, in his famous essay of
-I:.' Dehumanization of Art." Art evokes aesrlretic, not real,
:- :: ,:.. Tl,r'r,nlooker consciousness is e basic xssumption
-:-:. i-):.eqe presents the example of a dying man whose
-: i- :i :i .lttended by his wifc, his doctor and a painter. He
,::i.: -:ii :he paintcr's attittide- as oiie,bf-inclifféienCe: the
: r -::: :..r', \ rrtcntion only to lights and sl.radow and chro-
-:' : . .', .:.,.: "To actr-rally rvorry about the dying man,"
. -::: i,:rr}lr.rrrs, "is not the concern of aesthetics." "ln
: : -: -: :: j sculprr.rre, the design is the essential thing," wrote
- -:- -: K.rnr. It invites attcntion to tlre surface qualities of
: --:-: .::i terture. The truth of these comments reverber-
:--- - :': Rcs eltl's ilccor¡lrt of Monet, described in T/¡¿
-:'.:: -. ; ': ? ressionis»¡. At the height of his grief, Monet
- - : - : :.: : ¡.rinting his r.vife on her deathbed; to his hor-
' ' -:' -::.: hrmself dras'n by his painter's instinct to "the
- -:. .-- .,. .'::i qrr'r' tonelities cast lry death."
'1.:::rn trrrditionxl aesthetics, it is only the imege '
-- :- : --:. I :'. ci re¡lin' is repressed by the disembodied eye
'-- : --:- -- '-,,-: :n:o spectacle. Acqording to David Michael
-:- -'- :- . -. -:.:¡:ron of l¡einq to picturé hai'6éen óharicrer-
. :..:-.-- ,. .inJ r'.r n.rthologv in the very character of
l-.' .i-.,,.cnge rmpored lrv Lcvin's book Tbc
: ,' - - ' . :.:: ': :. ¡ c.rll ior a radicallv different kind of
-. :..1..;J on rhe disembodied er.e-in a sense, it
: :: ::.-:: I h¡ve trrr'd to take up in this book. In
.. -

'::-' --:-:.::.í.,rcl.rl rll' rhat se see. Levin claims we

i-.- --. i : i;-i::r ,,r:: rision. Hrstoric¡llv the model
: : . - : --.i :. rlircrr:c.] from the Renaissence. rvhich
- --

--. -.: ". .t:a:-.: : .'.- ,i out\iJc thc picture lnd scparate
. ..... l-.-.- .i ,.. rvr, llc.rrl trr tlr.rclop is ltot ilnc
,.5r.'c¡rtic's lnd enfremes, but I

:t:.lencrc: .rnd rootec'l instead i

1
 in a responsiveness that ultimatcly expresses itself in action.
"l submit," Levin writes, "that when [vision] ... is mede
concrete a¡rd situational, its traditional formalism lnd
abstractness arc ovcrcomc." ln c¡thcr words, vision th.rt is
truly engaged with thc world is not purcly cognitive, or purcl,v
aesthetic, but is opencd up to the body as a whole and nrusr
issuc forth in social practiccs thar "takc t<¡ hcart" lvhat is
seen.
"Vision is a social practice," he states, "aud necds
to bc under-stood as such." lmplicit in the violence, poverty
\ and opprcssion depictcd in Suc Coe's paintings is a call ro
I heal, but it is l call that Kanrirn Cartesian ¡esthctics cen
] never answer. For that, wc nced an ert ¡hat ¡ranscends thc
\-ZGtárrcecl-Fo-rmality of aesthetics and dares to re spond to' tlre
\ cries of the world.
During the winter of 1987-88, an estimated sev-
enty thousand persons were homcless in New York Ciw, with
no permanent shelter and no safe place to go. "Epidernics,
housing, health-the conccrns of urba¡r people-hou, do u,e
find our aesthetic practice in relation to thcse concerns?" asks
the Polish artist Krzysztof Wodiczko, who now lives in Ne rv
York. §lodiczko is known mostly for his projections of pho-
tographic imagcs on buildings and public monurnents, but it
was his Homele ss Vchicle Project, exhitrited at a qiry-orvncd
galleiy space'called the-Clocktowcr i¡ downtown Manhattan
.during
January 1988, that significantly caught rny-aitention.
\üodiczko attempted to design a vehicle , based on the shop-
ping cart, that could be uscd for transport and storage, and
might even servc as a temporary sheltcr for peoplc who are
conrpclled to live a nonladic lifc in thc urban environment.
Spccial extensions on the cart allow it to expand into a vari-
ety of useful positions: you can crawl inside it, sit up, lie
down, and store personal belongings as well as up to 6ve
hundred bottlcs and cans, which can be redeemcd for cash.
Also on view at the Clocktower we re drau ings
of different cart designs by Wodiczko and his collaborator,
David Lurie, which hed evolved in response to discussions
with homeless people. Photomurals of Tompkins Square and
City Hall Park showed the cart in its potential setting, and a

100
prorotvpe cart stood in the center of the room looking like
an aggressive missile. Taped conversetions between the art-
rsrs and people talking about the carts played continuously
rhroughout the exhibition. It is important to Wodiczko that
the proposed design not be put forward as a finished product
bur as a starting point for further collaboration between the'
designers and potential users. It is not Wodiczko's intention
that the vehicles be mass produced, as a way of involuntarily
institutionalizing homelessness. Instead, they ¡re designed to
meet emergency neecls. (So far none have been manufac-
tured.) "Learning from this particular group fthe scavengers]
modi6ed my project enormously," lWodiczko told me. "They
responded to my initial drawings-we designed according to
their needs. This is difficult in design terms because they have
conflicting needs: visibility and protection. And there must
be an escape system in case of fire. Shopping carts are an
interesting metaphor of the shopping mall; but people think
rhese scavengcrs are stealing the carts, so ultimately they don't
like it. The scavengers rvant something which specifically
arriculares their needs and creates respect. Then it's more dif-
ñcult to take the cart away from them. The police can't con-
fiscate it. "
The Homeless Vehicle serves, thus, both as a
practical object and es a symbol of the right of the poor not
to be excluded from social life. Instead of shunting the home-
less out of view, it heightens their visibility and legitimizes
their otherrvise unrecognized status as members of the urban
communitv. The mobility of the cart is important. Scaven-
gcrs need ro push lround helvy loeds of glass, metal and
plastic that thev collcct for redemption, in order to survive.
lf thev slecp, they also lrave to protcct what they have col-
lected from vandals and police harassment. It becomes valu-
a ble capitrl.

Onc of rlre fe¡tt¡res of the cert, besides transpor-

r¡rion end shelrer, is that it compels us to acknowledge the
homeless as more than u'rapped-up objects in the street that
rse iqnore and step over. "\'ou can alwavs recognize new-
comers rn \es- \'ork." s¡r's \\trdiczko, "because they actually
l.x¡< .r::hr- homeless. The erperienced Nerv Yorker deflects

ltll
his gazc and is not affected." For Wodiczko, homelcss pcoplc
symbolize what is really happening in the city in tcrn.rs of
real-estatc takeovers and urban dcvelopmcnt. Thc policc
relnovc tlre homcless frorn tlre siglrt of thc nonhomclcss atrd
from developers ir.r order to pronrotc a desireblc image of tlre
_cl!y. "They want to put them in shcltcrs," says Wodiczko,
"oi on floating barges attachcd to tugboers thar rake then.r
away like rats-ncvcr recognizing them as peoplc who irrc
working and trying to survive. A designcd object addresses
thcir needs well. Because thc nliddlc class is trained to see rhe
world in terms of designcd objccts, they begin to consider
'what is this obiect)'and'who is it for?"Ihis gives hope for
communicatio¡r, which is nry aim."
In another aspect of his work, \Wodiczko pro¡ecrs
photographic images of the.homelcss onto the outside sur-
faces of buildings and on public rnonuments, es a way of
forciug acknowlcdgment <¡f thc contradictions such monu-
ments embody. The projcctions are catalysts for dialogue with
the public about certain social conditions. In Union Square
Park, for inst;rnce, the statue of Ceorge \Washington, as a
result of a photographic pro¡cction, is n.rade to appe:rr as if
his lcft arm is pressing down <¡¡r a cau of Windcx. His right
arm l.rolds up ¡ rag, so th¿t W¿shirrgton's patcrnalistic ges-
turc is transformed into the hand-signal uscd by the u¡rer¡¡-
ployed to stop cars ¡nd clcan windshiclds. Abral.ra¡n Lincoln's
statuc is augrnented by a crutch and a bcggar's cup, while
Lafayettc's extcnded arm becomes a vagrant's, asking for coins.
A sinrilar ll.q,ff€!g!f .!l¡ Ccllqn, Wits crcated f<¡r thc Civil War
nremorial in Boston on"JNcw Year's Day, 1989. Superimpos-
ing images of poverty-stricken pcople on buildings and mon-
umc¡rts deconstructs the of6cial public imagc of the clity_as, a
well-managed pplacc and subtly rrrrnsPQscs the -sires- into
well-manaSeo
memorialsiib for-tl
f.or-tle homclcss.l One critic has writtcn that the
projections leave behind a kind of moral ccl.ro ¡hat would not
be availal¡lc to a permanent installation: their appearance
and disappearancc rnake them morc har,rnting, as they seenr
togru¡r)etc frorn rhe buildrngs thc¡rsclvcs, likc a sccretion,
ot¡eprc,:§§§l 3leatn:ils¡laly, of the stt¡n.'s.
"Whet thc honrclcss necd," according to perfor-

102
 t¡tit ,
,:t , ,.. l'.
,1.i. .i
ll:,
-:.:r.e rriisr John Malpede, "is cering. They need situnricíns
::,i: \\'()uld allor.v thenr to participate in life, to contribute
.::.: tcl is rhough they are prrt of something.,. Tirecl of
-.:.riq ¡rr fr',r rhe purp.,se- _o-f getting reviews _anrftil.ldíng
-:-':n
:.::..r.i
rc'sumó, Malpede left--Ntrw Ycirk ánd went to Loa
\\'here, in 1985, he became the founder and arrisric
-=.-.1,. oi a tl¡eater group composed of street people from
:
:. : Lorr'. " I didn't lrave enough responsibilitiei, emorional
- . ..::¡(.nts. concerns about others," he says. Sometimes
:: :: T.:¡e Thearcr of the Homeless, LAPD (which stands for
--. .- . Anqeles Poverry Department) has already put on more
:-:- : :r',lndred sholvs, and the company now travels fre-
: - :-: . ,n the ro¡d visiting other cities, encouraging people
- ',:. r:rr!.rcsrecl in estabiishing similar progrems.
In order ro cain access to l_os Angeles's homeless
:- :,. \f.r)pcdc rlorked es a volunreer in a soup kitchen,
:.r joh at the office of Inner City Law in the heart
' i. : !. ,,... . \\'i¡h the heip of grants fronr the California
- -:. - .::;:l :ntl the Nerional Endowment for the Arrs, he
--. i:-: :-.-- l.r\\' xgenc\,'s 6rsr flrr.isr-inLesidEr-él and
_- - began
-- :-.. :heltcr group tlrroug|¡ weekly tolent shows held
- :-: .:--,.:i .rn,.l in thc shelters among Skid Row residents,
:.: ' : ihe hcst performance. His work at the free law
uelirrre applicanrs secr-rre benefits gave him a
rc¡ rhe srreer people, and he was able to trade

:::.ri'rnrsr. "\X/e do action suits against the wel-

':': j.:.'-:-:::.1:." he rold nte, "on behalf of peoplewho, for
-"::-::. : : : h.rve rhe proper identification to get welfare.
'.'.:- - .:r j.rics har.e heen rvon bv direct testimony from
-: - -- :... \lr iob has l¡een ro go around and get those
--:-:-.-:.. .::.r:k of i¡ ¡ bit Iike an art form-collecting
-:- .'-: -.'r .:()r-ies from. mavbe, a hundred or so peo-
']t..--- .¡,"¡¡.-. íorm
the core of LApD's perfor-
-.:-::a li:taler rt preirr:lnted sCript, OnlV a SerieS
:..j.. ::.: :.1\\' rrntl cheotic, sometimes rvild and
' ... - '. :ri:,, rtlu¡ls unfurl ¡lre fabric of life on
"\ :: -: :: \.. ritren dorvn." Ifalpede explains.

1r.l
 ,

"We develop e sccnari<.¡ which everyonc gets to kn<lw. lr cor>ks

as it goes along, like spaghcrti saucc. So¡ne of our people
can't even read, but evcn for those wl.ro can, it stultifies things.
This way peoplc are always adding stuff, and sornc of the
scenes change. "
Gradually, the monologues changed into dia-
logues bctween peoplc rclaring to each other about issucs.
t ]ye{dq!k uow- it, but doing performance¡in a group turned
"out to be cxrretly wh.rt isolatdd-ana mistrustful pcople nccd.
It has helpcd them develop skills for relating to othcrs, Iikc
how to argue, for exar.r.rplc. In thc bcginning pcoplc didn't
know how to relate to each other at all-which rcflecrcd thc
reality of Skid Row, where things happen on top of cach
other, not in an organized way. "
In this unreconstructcd and volatile siruation, what
emerges is not always expccted. On a given workshop night,
tl.rcre may be loud argunrents about who is the bcst artisr (a
good thing, according to o¡le group membcr, for people who
normally don'r think mucl.r of then.rsclves). One may hear an
angry tirade or a bit of cabarct-sorne one singing romentic
songs, calypso, or rccitir.rg pocns. One person describes his
love for bascball; another enacts a fantasy of being a drum
majorette lcading a marching band, or an invisible character
named Franccs Fettucini. Sonreone else tells his own story,
narrating an important turning ¡.roint in his life in a passion-
atc, evocetive u,ay. In tl.rc middlc of thc performance, pizzes
arrive and are catcn. Fights often brc¿k out. Actors shriek,
and run in and out oi the roorn; thcy harass the performers
on stagc, and talk to tl.rc audie ncc.
"Most of the people that I norv make art with
have been socialized in institutions: foster homes, mental
hospitals, jails. Institutions at thc margins of society," Malpede
notes. "They don't know how to act right. .lJehavior that would
not be tolerated in any othcr group work situation is put up
with and over time worked through in this group. As a result,
thcrc havc been amazing changcs in some membcrs'ability
to function and to interact with and carc ¿l¡out other people.
. . . I was drawn here to work," he says, "because the urgency
of the situation and the emotions it 6res provided the condi-
tions I wantcd for making art."

104

I
 \falpede himself appears in some performances,
'.,.:::::rg e §'iq and a pink-and-orange housedress, playing the
:,i:: c,t Roberr Clough,, a " crazy" black transvestite. Some-
::::! o:iL-r people play Malpede, or each other. It is a bit
'.,.: : :nJ .rnarchic for some tastes, but others
are deeply
.'::::=¡seJ rvith the proceedings. For them, the turbulencé is
.i - r: ::.ri!,s ir so powerful. I inquired of Malpede if he acted
. -:::::,.:sl! to create a context for others to feel free tO
:.'.:::r. :remselves. "Not at all," he replied. "Robert, the
: -::::. :i ¡:-¡nsyestite, was actually one of our members,
: -: -: ::-:i., ..r lot of troublc for everyone, and eventr.rally he
:':: -::: : , ¡rl. So'I rook over his part. On Skid Row every-
-,:,:'. r -:::.t l(.ous-rh ey don't need encouragement."
Tie uniqr-reness of LAJ?D is tbat ir is-nor politicali
:r - .:-:- :::n¡ed" ¡heeter. Ir is a -diréiT éxperience of what'
- ---:-.: :. ¡ homelcss persoñ) And, es one critic wrote in
'- :.--
- n' -:i., .-h¡racters áren't pitiful, and sometimes they
i':' : .::. ::r.-. Thev immobilize any do-gooder impulse in
:-¿ :-:'--::. ln f.rcr. LAPD makes a liberal response to the
::-: -:::.lL'siness look feeble and completely inade-
: -:-: - :::tu;tr¡\'. as it is being enacted here, is the ability
-: :: -:- : ,-:: i:.t \\':l1s that matter to them-to give them a
. :, -: )' -.r::!': lto\\' accurately art may mirror back to
-:L:::-. :. .,.: :.q3tive ieatures, the perception that alien-
:-, - :, r. i:-i ,.\'i:en §'e hecome aware of our connectedness
r---- :-:-. '..':i. inevirablv to a clifferent sort of arristic
.-j-: - -- .:- i .,. r.r: Levin. quotrng Habermas, refers to as
-- -''
F1- : : : ::: ton. Processes. " The fact that a lot of ihiqg-i
-:
J
:r:,:,:- :': : : .'i: L.\PD doesn'r borher Malpede. He doesn't
<: -- ' :- : - rj:.:nce. since ir's u,here the group's priorities
:-: .--. i-:::-: i:.o\\'. ior instance, ls all about Leroy "Sun-
-,- -c - '.1 '- : :: ,-r: member ri'ho got rhrown out of a fourth-
-' ,'' . -: ., :: j r.'.rrlv died: LAPD is x'orking on gerring
- - : : :-: : .::'.. \fanY people rvho sfarted out lost, and
.'..' :- -- -: . -:...-inund plecesto lir.e, and attest feelingly
:-: .:, :.ii- :.¡reJ their lives. "Before I rvas in a
--:- -::::. -: -t¡atic,i. Douglas Perrr'. "l rvas alrvays by
- . ', j j- : .t .:-: :-, ó:k: I §'¡s confuscd. Joining the
\1,
--:::i-:- . -' -:-::-::.t¡i ¡O reillit\'."

l-ri
 I Vision tlrat rcsponds tt¡ thc crir,s of the world and
/is truly cngaged rvith rvhat ir sces is nor the same as rhe
/ disembodicd eye rhat observes and reports, that objectifics
{ and cnfremes. Tlrc ability t() cnrcr inro alrorllcr's cnroriorrs,
or to sh¡re another's plight, to makc thcir conditions-our
own, characterizcs art in the partnership rnode. You cannot
exactly define it as self-expression-ir is n.rorc like relational
dynamics. Once relatiouship is givcn greater priority, art
cmbodies more aliveness. and collaboration, a dimension
cxcluded from the solitary, essentially logocentric discourses
..-of modernity. Partnership demands a willingness to conccive 1

of art in morc living terms. "Compassion is rhe rooring of I

vision in the world, and in the whole r¡f be ing," states Davidl
Michael Levin. It is a way of seeing othcrs as part of our-
selves. \ühen art is rootcd in the rcsponsivc herrrt, rather than
the disembodied eye, it may even come ro be seen, nor as the
solitary proccss it has been sincc tlre Renaissance, but as
sontethiflg ue do with othcrs.
At Intcrmediate School 52 in rhc Sourh Bronx,
where New York ¿rtist Tim Rollins [.ras taught for many years,
there are many inner city teenagers whc¡ hirve bcen classified
as emotionally handicappcd and lcarning disabled. lr wi¡s witl.r
a small band of thcsc studcnts, w.ho are now known as K.O.S.,
or "kids of survival," that Rollins i¡ 7982 began his Art and
Knowledge workshop, which has sincc become not only an
innovative modcl for learning, but also for creating ert based
on partnership. Like most art reachers, l{ollins had been
teaching and making art ar rhc samc rilne. But, dissatisfied
with the lirnitations of that, hc decided ro fusc tlre two pr¡c-
tices and began making art with thc kids. "Bccausc nrany of
them were dyslexic," he says, "l would rcad to tlrenr, not
those embarrassing primers, but books hke Frankenstaitt,
Dickens' Hard Tinrcs, Kaf ka's Antcrika and Dantc's Inferno.
The kids went crazy for them. I would have them draw whilc
I reed, but it wasn't rhat I wantcd them rr.¡ illustrate what I
was reading. Instcad, I told thenr ro come up with visual cor-
rcspondences betwecn thc stories and things in thcir daily
lives. "
Nirrctecnth-century classics in literaturc bccarnc

106
)
 .,,:'..{'
l,
dre staning point, the inspirational trigger, for a unique series
of collaborative paintings. Rollins and the class would read
rhe book together to try to get a sense of how the story might
relate to their own concerns and struggles. The Scarlet Let-
,¿r, for instance, brought up issues of guilt and shame, and
ho*'people put negative labels on one another. In the South
lrur-r' lorv-income blacks and Hispanics are constantly being
bbclcd as underprivileged or disadvantaged by people in
porer. 'lt's not unlike that'A'Hester Prynne has to sew on
f.r drtss.,' says Rollins, "which she transforms from a stigma
of dum€ into a symbol of pride. The kids got into that-
üq saned looking at different typefaces to represent the
'A'--
Each painting is launched through a similar pro-
..-, rnl¡ a period of brainstorming for an image or symbol
' & c¡n trst be used to communicate the core meaning of
t booL Then, its pages are carefully torn from one copy
J rcscd in sequence onto the surface of the canvas, there
D L@r. the literal (as well as metaphoric) ground of the
É-a Fo¡ Tbe Red Badge of Courage, the symbol that,
.EEEd ras a rvound. Stephen Crane set his novel during ]
t Gil1 §¡r: the story concerns a new recruit's psycholog-l
iJ.-crrnce of combat, and his yearning for a wound-a I
d fE+E of courage that would visibly signify his heroicl
F !c from ¡-outh ro manhood. As the kids talk over the
of the s1'mbol, Rollins shows them paintings by
-*
G-crdd and photographs of exploding stars from NASA.
fh cgr builds, and rvhat started out as gashes begins to
*á ¡ o¡nic dimension until, finally, a whole galaxy of
d ftscaccs' resembling comets or other celestial bodies,
c k r¡abolrc 'red badge" in paint, standing for all that
c b ¡rrn'ed. 'l liked the idea of wound forms placed all
c úc tod¡' oi the text," says Rollins.
A painring of golden horns, derived from a scene
¡ Íltt's ,l¡*¡ika, is probably the best known painting ever
E& üt Rolf¡r and the K.O.S. A version of it is in the Saatchi
C-ollcsin in l-ondon. lt refers to an episode in the book in
rllidr ¡¡ rrrmryrant bov comes into a room s,here everyone

10':
 is dressed up antl blorving on beautiful horns. In the peinring
(there are actually thirtcen different versions of it), each horn
is gold, but some are sinewy and plantlikc, while orhcrs have
¡ more lbrmal dcsign. Coilcd and wcldcd togcthcr on the
canvas, their interlocking slr:rpes seem to nrinlic thc nr.rrirrg
rituals of insects and flowcrs in :r contorted mirrglir.rg. "Sourc
of us like drawing geonrctric," conrmcnts o¡rc of tlrc kiJs,
"othcrs like guts and stuff-that's why whcn you pur rhenl
togcthcr thcy look so good."
Rollins makes it clear that his intcrest is not in
establishing a painting team, but in rcaching ncw kids and.
helping them realize their potentiaL His goal is to use somc
of their profits to startiis.own multicultural ert school rn the
South Bronx. Presenting wh:¡t hé does as an altcrnative ro
the singlc-tracked artist, Rollins opcrates on many íronts :rt
, once, doing interviews and com¡nunity rvork as well as big
public shows. "l'm a flag waver," I.re says. "Wh¡t we do is
.not valuable unless other people start doing it in tlreir conr-
,. rnunities, in their c¡wn way. . . . Everything we do is to büild
' something else-it isn't going into Jacuzzis for our loft."
The philosophcr Maurice Mcrleau-Ponty argucs,
in an cssay entitled "Cézanne's Doubt," rhat it is not cnough
for philosophers--or, I would add, artists-to cre atc or exprcss
an idea; they nrust also awaken the expcricnccs that will nrake
their idea take root irt thc consciousncss of othcrs. With this
in rnind, Rollins and thc kids now travel cxtcnsively, dem-
onstrating their concepts and rvorking mcthods for students
and teachers in orher conlmunities. IJut it is important to
l{ollins that what he does not be scen as thcrapy or social
do-goodism. "When did it happen,," he says, "that working
with kids became a saintly, do-gooder tlring? lt's a basic duty
of society. The rcason that kids arc running wild is that no
one is there for them." On another occasion, Rollins conl-
mented: "Wc don't just want to paint ourselves and our
communities. We rvant to 6nd out sorlrcthing ¡bout the rvorld.
It makes the kids feel that they can do something-that thcy
can make things happen." From within a pa rtnership-bascd
paradigm, which views selfhood as intrinsically relation,tl,
artists likc Rollins, Malpede and \X/odiczk<.¡ can morc eirsilv

1olt
-:r :hcnrscivcs as active agcnts, choosing and implemcnting
:: ,r(.ts that give people an experience of communitv. \ühat
:::-(r-!.\ ironr the nrodcl of partnership is a vision freed from
:-. rri\on ccll of thc scparrte, indepcndcnt ego; ancl in this
:.:.:. .r r ision of ert that is mLrch more sensitive to its place
- :-.: ',r holc. "Wc clrive pcople crazy because they can't 69-
-i .r:',\'hi1t it is." Rollins stetes. ':ls it social rvork? Is ir ¡
-- : I. rr ¡n art project? Is ir ¡ frrud? [s ir socialism? [s it
-.-'- :-r:r()n for juvenile dclinquents? . . . I think manv pco-
- t - : :i:t rvork s'e clo tl.rreetenirrg. On the simplest lcvel,
: ''- : ii:c .onventional notion of the whitc male alone in
- : -'-': :::.rking mastcrpicces ¡nd throlú it out of thc win-
l:1 rl'rc context of_a sustaining cnvironmcnt, rvithin
-. ' .,'cl;rl support¡and mrrtuel respect, things can
'--... - L,\. s,r¡li¡[ iilaiionships are fo]med, shared
- : - -:: ..lopl ¡ncl I ¡hink it is not farfctchecl to say that
. -:.J'. lrorn to authentic empower-
pou'e rlessness
, - :'-r\ One of the kids'parents, Pura
ü\'L,n [¡c saved.
- ,..:. :nrcrvicrvcd abol¡t lrer son's connection witl.r
' ---'.:'r¡cd: "On or¡r block on l-ongu,ood there rre
-. : .:-'. .r)n'rcr. I arn happv and relieved to know my
'..: ,,f K.O.S. \\1hat Tim l{ollins, Clod []less hirn
- : . ::r :o thcsc kirls is a scnse of incredihle respon-
rr -:.:rr:\ ¡nd securitr'. . . . l\4v son has been given
-
1,1,,:ircr's l):rv in 1984, a procession of 150
- : . r.:. :,¡ ninctr'-ninc. from a varicty of ethnic
- . -. :- .:r.ls. p.rrricipatcd in \I'iisper, the Vdues,
. ---r'.' ,rr-rllv orclrcs¡r¡tcd ¡rt *'ork bv Suzanne
- ., r - .,.:::¡ [r, honor their continuitv s'itlr the
'-- : --i-. ir-.;'.r'r)ln.n cnrered ¡ hC:lCh ¡t [-a Jolla,
- - :: ..:. ,)t t.,lu'¡t thite clorh-covered tables
. -.. .-::' j ::cn' c,.nc.-rns .rt,out ¡ging. Whcn
:. i. .::. i:.:: ,:.. ..,.:r,, ir¡.1 hcen \\'etching ironr tlre

' i).';.. :hrs rirnc- in 1986, anothcr

:. l-.r:,::hrs rinrc six hundrcd
 older women, all drcsscd in black, enrcrcd tlrc hugc, glass-
enclosed Crystal Court of Philip Johnson's IDS Center in
downtown Minneapolis. Once again they sat in groups of
four, this time at tables covercd in black, to discuss with each
other their accomplishments and disappointmenrs, their hopes
and fears. A prerecorded sound track, consisring of an audio-
collage of the voices of seventy-five worncn at the tables, pro-
iected the participants' reflections loudly enough ro be heard
by the audience of several thousand, who were looking down
from the balconies. The audience is important for Lacy, not
so much in terms of number, but in thc degree of their
engagement and communication. At the tables, the women
rearranged their hands in unison and slowly folded back'the
black tablecloths, revealing Miriam Schapiro's red and yel-
low geometric petterns beneath. TI.re prearranged move-
ments of their hands, the slow unfolding of the cloths and
the colorful designs syrnbolically suggested the process of
quiltmaking. When thc ritual was over, mernbe rs of the audi-
ence were invited to present the performcrs with hand-painted
scarves, placing them on the womcn's shouldcrs, as if com-
memorating a kind of public investiture.
I Lacy has dedicated The Crystal Quilt ro her
,'mother. "The goals in my work," she says, "are definitely
/ . . . to empower participants, to rxise consciousness lbout
l_certain shared conditions of being fenrale." If older women
iñ-particular are to movc into the public sphcre and enloy
relationships beyond the nuclear family, they need to develop
conrmunication skills and solidarity with other womcn.
Transforming the experience of exclusion and alienation from
society into one of creative empowcrmcnt in thc community
requires an experience with reciprocal listening. "The culti-
vation of listening," writes Levin in Tlte Listening Sef, "is
imperative if our society is to overcome its traditional system
of domination. lt is imperative, if an historically new kind of
self is ever to emerge from the traditional dualism. . . . Our
listening needs to learn reccptiveness, responsiveness, and carc.
Our listening nceds to return to the intertwining of self and
other, subject and objcct, for it is there that the roots of com-
municativeness take h<¡ld and thrive."

t10
 Thc Crystal project involved collabora-
- -. ,rirh scver¡l se rviceQuilt
agcncies, such as the Minnesota
I ::.: r,f Aging, and educational institutions interested in
: - - ,:rng aurhentic inrages of older women as active parric-
:.-.-:- ::r rhc public sphere. But most of tl.re actual work was
: -:. :', \ oluntecrs and many of the women participated
:- :: :ehearsal or preparxtion. For Lacy, the ;succeis" of
": .. .:: r\ nte¡sured by wl.rether or not the process of net-
'. -:.'l:.long tlre women continues once the performance
'., ' - t::.hcd. [n Nrlinnesota, ten of the women went on to
' -i '- :g.rniz¡tion dcdicated to challenging stereotypes
- ::- .,. ::'rl'n: thev now offer statewide training programs
-:: :n com mu n ity-oriented leadership skills. The
- : . : :-: ::: . .rrc disseminating is that older women are com-
- : ' r:: ::J occr.rpving a more prominent place in the world.
:-riimcs societ,v forgets that oldcr women have a
'.Jq.-, c¡n be hclpful-we're not being brought
- :¡lcvision at ell," comments one of the women
- :, :- .: :."s ¡udiotape. "\\/c're no longer sitting hon.re
:: ;h¡rr and knitting, like you think of grandmas
: :: . '-* hcn the work was done, they would just
:.::¡s chair and knit away, We grandmas aren't
: -: -- r: :-. Íor!', slates anotlrer. "lthinkalotof senility
- :-: r.1.r tha¡ nobody asks you anything. Nobody
:. : .:.:.1i. Prettv soon," says St. Paul writer Meridel
:' : , - -: l,rsr' \'orlr memorv. I suffer a lot from people
- - ----:: ::.1e.
.. .::rrnq is r qucstion of character, according to
-: - - - - .:r. ,:nrr'nt is a practice of the self. When Cali-
' - --- .: ' :.::i¡n Ilorofskr' ¡nd his collaborator Gary
: - .- " ).-: rJ rn 193-i ¡nd 1986 ro three different pris-
'-:::.'::o m.rke thcir vr deo-docu men tr rt Pris-
'- - . j j -i ,: :o \ netn'ork reporters intending to
:'l
'- .: -:-.J:::. :l-c c,rn.litions thcv foLrncl. They rvent
j:i::r ()ril!-r ¡o rn' and understantl their
j . -, .,. i ,: :!:cm.elre. rrh.tt it me¡ns to
- :-i ..- .,,.:r.ric lockeJ rrp in ¡ cement
ir,r.i .r runninq empathv for any-
:." B,:,,r,.k1 roi.l nte. "for peo-

,t
 plc trappcd ir.r thc systcm who aren'r frec. I always want ro
do something about it. . . . Part of mc feels like a prisoner as
long as others aren't free. "
Listcning to othcrs-gctring bcyorrcl nrcrely
expressing ourselves-is the distinguishing feature of art in
the ernpathic mode. When we arrend to orher peoplc's plight,
cntcr int<¡ their crnotiorrs, nrakc thcir conditi«¡ns our own,
identification occurs. Then wc c;rnnot rcmlin ncurral or
det¡ched observers: responsibility is felr and wc are sunr-
moned to action, l(athcr than scekirrg to inrpress our own
irnages upon the world, a radical art, as 'l'im Rollins con-
ceives it, is one that hclps organizc people wlro can speak for
themselves, but lack the vehiclcs to dó so.
Borofsky and Glassman invited the prisoners to
talk about their lives-their childhoods, familics, hopes-and
about wlrat had gone wrong for thcrn. Thirty-two people
consented to be interviewed. In the film, some of them sharc
pocms thcy have written or show art works. Conversing with
the 6lmrnakers, they dcscribe thc oppressivencss of lifc inside
a prison, where everything is programmed, and pcople ncver
get to talk spontaneously al¡out thcmselves becausc no <¡ne
is interestcd. Thcy tell about h<¡w nruch they miss real living,
and about how the systen.r breaks you down-bccause it is
dcsigned to brc¡k you down rather than to help you. What
you see with thc prisoners, according to Borofsky, is that
thcy've never bcen shc.¡wn a bettcr way.
"l use rny art as a tool," he says, "to rvork out
what's going on in my lifc. I'r.n workiug *,ith an rnncr politics
here, and what's going on in these prisons has to bc worked
out in my life tt¡o. ... What cen.WhyI lcarn from these people?
What does it mean to be frcc? do people cnd up in
prisons?" Over cighty pcrcent of all criminals have been vic-
tims of child abuse. Ninety percent of the criminals in Death
Row werc children in the fostcr care system. Nearly all rob-
beries in Los Angeles are drug related. The pcople who end
up in prisons are usually people who don't feel good about
thcrnselvcs.
"When I showed this filnr at Yale," Borofsky
statcs, "the students said it was a brc¡tl.r of frcsh air. Thcy

tt2 l

_/
. r:J. .1ll \\'e (lo is t¡lk :rbout 'rvhat is moclern and wlret is
: i:1r()(1(-rn. TIlis shorvs an artist doing something in human
:r::r'. Hofciullv tcaching is opcn, but current modcls are
'.:::r!i .rn(l nrostly peoplc play thc geme within its limire-
: :.. ... Secrctlv most pcople know thc best artists in the
::-: l.r\c l,ecn those rvlro go lgainst tlre grain, rvho stuck
:-:j:- :c.k our. But now it's about survival and horv to play
'- - :.:::c in this fin¡ncially crunched rtmosphere. Evcn you
-: . .i:c c.rughr in th¡t svstem."
Ccrrrrinlv it's tnrc that wc arc caught in the sys-
' - : -: .,\ rtlr cYe rvone lse, but we are illso part of its
e

, -' i -:. Thrrc is no doul¡t in mv mind that the seeding of

-- i : -. : : -r
- : :) g .t n cl rcspect tl.rat has occurred througlr the art

- - .r-:.r-.r.rins the soci¡l psychopathy clepicted in Suc

. : : -: ::'. F,nrp¡thic art is like a windorv on the dream-
: jr oLlr socicty; its rcstorative action Irclps to
.-' - ' -:ra:.lcr¡lilr nrodcs of consciol¡sness. "Bcu'lre, my
- : : - : -- . .r,¡11." lr ritcs thc poet Aimé Césaire, "Bervare
. ,.,,.,.rng vorrr xrms / and assuming the sterile
.- -, ' --.. .a(.rilror, 'bccause life is not a spectacle,"
.. :::: n,,§. our culture still promotes only disen-
-: - - - - - --.rr:rons of thc social role and politicel func-
' '--
,- : : .r ril continLre to do s<¡ as Jong as we conccive
-- ' . -rnl) ils nlr arena for individu¡ls to achicvc
-:- -.-'.:.,:¡.rl cnds. Thc sclf-serving thesis gencretecl
'-
' --:- .- :-.: r:. rxploitative, clomin:rtor models is that
"' -.-.- ..: :.-::: :. l.cst scrvecl lrv scperate individuals
- ' -' - -. 1: ::. !n .t .onlpe¡itive enYironment. But self-
:- - :- -... - : --. , ,:tt. rs thc grcar cnemv of commtrnin.
' ' ,- : -- :".: \1. \.'<,t¡ I'e ck. ¡lonq \\'ith mrn\' ()thcr
-':- -: - ^-.-- :,r:r:rn1 ()Llt t]r¡t unless capitelism as a
' : --- -,- - - ::rl'.:ir:r', conrmunitr'-minciecl. it:rnd thc
- - : :- -:. .r:; unllk.-lr to sLtrvivc. "\\'c mltst
- - -- : ' - -.. - .:-. : I.'. ):'''.',¿t':i Dr¡r»¡. "thrt ri'c livc
' - -,.i ' : a ,'-r'r:lLrilrI\ has itself l¡ccorre
,, l\: -'1r kcc¡' ,,¡1 prcrcnclittg
-:- :. ,:.i J.ll:rrulliñ' until thc

.:
cnd. Or wc can wakc up to the drarna of our livcs ancl bcgin
to txke thc steps ueccssary to savc thellr." Most of us, in thc
capitalist world, have ncver had an experience of true com-
muniry, We livc so muclr in an cthos of professionalisrn, which
kccps us bound to individualistic nrodes of thought and
directcd toward the making of products, that ir is difficult
not to nrarginalize, or subtly discount, achievements thar
manifest less ego-control, and point to the value of cocreariv-
ity. What is cornpclling to mc ¡bout these artists is their abil-
ity to respond to thc crics of the world as artists, proving
that being an artist and working f<¡r social changc do nor.
have to be et odds.
Cartesian acsthetics has prcsupposccl a solitary,
isolatcd subicctivity, but where thcre is dynamic participe-
tiou, forms arc not iust visual-they lerd, as Leviu says, ro 11

relational cxpericncc with listcning. They lead to the forma-

tion of identitics grounded in the comrnunicative rcalization
of our intersubjcctiviry, which transccnds thc ego-logical, fixed
self of the Cartesian and Kanti¡n traditions. "This dialcctic,"
writes Levirr in The Listening Self, "deconslrzcts the narcis-
sistic structure of thc sclf, redcenring for subjectivity irs pri-
mordial sociality, its inherence in thc rcciprocitics <¡i a social
world-a 'moral comnrunity.' "
It would seeln that the capacity to movc bevond
thc old art-and-lifc, subject-objcct polaritics is prcciscly w,here
the frontier of a post-Cartesian franrework is to be found.
Cornmunicy is the starting point for ncw modes of related-
ness, in u hich the paradigm of social conscience replaces that
of the individual genius. ln the past, we heve nrade much of
thc idca of art as a mirror (reflccting thc timcs); we have had
art as a hanlmer (social protcst); we have had irrt as furniture
(son-rcthing to hang on the walls); a¡rd wc have lrad art as a
search for thc sclf. There is anothcr kind oI art, u'hich speaks
to the power of connectedness and esrablishes bonds, art that
calls us into relationship. Perhaps, as Janrcs Hillman says, the
¡rew aesthetics will not be fbund in muscums or bcautiful
objects, but in some visible manifcst:rtion of "thc s<.¡ul's des-
perate concerns. "

114
 CnRprrn 8
Be voNo rHr Rn,crRNGLE, Our oE THE
Fneur
Art as Compassionate Action

lf tbey blow [tbe uorld] up, that's not my

business. My business is to work.
Louise Neuelson

Tbe artist's business rcquires an inuoluement

in practically euerything. . . . lt tuould be
bypassing the issue to say that tbe artist's
business is how to uork with this and tbat
material or manipulatelhe .of percep-
-tual psychólógy, and that fndings
' left to other professions. . the rest should be
. . Tbe total scope
of information be receiues day after day is of
coflcern. An artist is not an isolated system.
ln order to suruiue he has to continuously
interact with tbe world around him. . . .'fhe-
oretically there are no limits to his inuolue-
meflt.
Hans Haackc

115
 Bullshit! If you're saying this is supposcd to bc
sonrcthing'ncwr'sontc big changc th.tr's hlpPe¡ting in our
culture-we've always had ihc nrissionery rradition of pco-
ple who wislr to engage thc w<¡rld's suffcring anil help bring
about rcliet. What thosc artists ¡rc doing hes its nrcrirs in
tcrms of social therapy and all thar, bur ir rvouldn'r havc
stopped Michclirngclo or lVlozart from rvhat thcy were doing,
er]d it wotr't stop irny grcat artist now."
This bclligcrenr conlmcnr wes hurlcd et me b,v a
writer at ¡n artist's retreat in lllinois, where I had just read
the ¡rrcvious chaptcr to a group of the othcr rcsidents. Thc
writcr's assaults continued on througlr the night in the form
of angry letters slipped under my door. "This has rcally upscr
nre," chin:cd in one of the painters, "bec:luse I think thar I'nr
a good person, lrut ['nr not about to givc up wlrat I'm doing.
I havc too rnuch of nrysclf investcd in it." "You realizc," said
another writer, "t[.rat whet you just rcad threateus the lvay
of lifc of everyone in tlris roonr."
Cultural nryths do not die casily, especially rvl.ren
our personal cornnritment to them is so stror.rg thar it is dif-
6cult even to cntertain explanltions or possibrlitrcs bascd u¡ron
diffcrent prerniscs. Most rú.us "sce" art as we lrave bceu
trgSbjJblglgll rl'g,ii.nguage- and concepti r-rt'C-r.titirn i".-
l1rctics, a trarlitir¡u i¡r which indivirluals lnd individual ¡rt
-
wórks-eré the t¡aiitllóments. Maint¡ining a syrnbiotic or
complemcrrtii¡rclationship with sociery § jcrnonstrably nor
how thc myth of xesthetic frcedom has been conccptualized
ir.r thc modernist vision, and certainly not lrow it has bcen
er¡bodicd. ln modern socicty, artists scc themsclvcs as quin-
tessential free agents, pursuing thcir own ends. Our cultural
mytlrs support econontic advancenlent and thc lrard-edged
individualist w.rit largc, rather than servicc, caring attirudes
and participation. Though cerrain individuals ere cxploring
and irnplemcnting morc comrnunal valucs, othcrs have not
shifted their undcrstanding in this way and may nor wisl.r to.
For thern, art renrairrs J qucsrion ol radical Juro¡lo_llyjr
' "When sornconc scriously questionathe acccpted
way things arc done," writes Carol Beckcr in hcr book f/¡¿
Inuisible Dranu: Wonrcn dnd tbc Anxicty of Changc, " sug-

116
i-.: :-: .t t'te\\' xpproxch, tlre person mav trigger anxicty in
.'-.:.. This irnxietv nrav be turned ageinst the innovator in
'-, -:r of ¡nqcr."'üflhen challengcd by a counternrvtlr, an
-: ,:-:.rl'. prcvailing rnv¡h will often entrench itsclf more
: .. .in... rhcre is usurlly e strong cmotionrl investmcnt.
'- i - :t nt ()n :r ssu nr ptions of thc ctr rrcnt societal paracligm,
': .lefincs one's rvorld ancl oncself. To risk ahendon-
:. . .,. c ll.rvc lrt'ld .rr :lhsolutc is never easv.
.\ccording to'West Coast psvchologists Stanlcv
' ' - : - .:- r::.1 Drrvicl Feinstcin, the existing mvthologies of
.- -: ,::lturc arc lcading us to dcstruction. tüe arc :rll
.-
.: .:lolr ro pef ticipate in revising and updaring the
, ...::rprions tl¡et u,e follow. Since our sociery deñncs
'-' :tr..and porvcr, oricntations that redeñne pcr-
'' .. : ,,n n0nrlretcrialistic premises go riglrt.trl the
- . . :Tc \ "nl) rhie ütit1-' Fóie long rime now.
- - -lr;rg r¡f modcrn Westcrn civilization has cen-
- - ". r rt ,.lominance and mastery: thc dominence
.:r: n.'rrLrrc. of m¡sculine over feminine, o[ the
- : : .,. ¡riLrl over tl're poor, irnd of Western ovcr
':.::cr. r of dominance and
- . ..:!\. Thesc samc goals
)!rrrrL Érr¡r
- -- r:L' ;ruci¡l'rLJL to our societv's notion of success,
, - :r'- ihú ton¡ula íor global dcstruction-it is a
- . - :.;r cr e rv crpcrictrcc in contempor¡rv cul-
:-i -, ,'¡1. jrL.lli.ry phenonrcnon, strugrling «r
' . - -J!\ rl instmnrental reason-it is he¡vilv
- -- - rj.,,l,rqr'. \Vc can no longer ignorc orrr own
- i'r. aroc!'\s. Thc institutional stn-lctllres and
' - . -: .', r,r-ld are rnotleled on the semc configu-
: -- .:--: nrotit rh¡t kcep the ball of p:rtriarchal
- - ::l.r:il m¡int¡in the dominent',vorld view
- : .':: (.
:.i¡.rrr h¡s l.ccomc not onlr e verv
' ( .:.1':)\ oun. hut .tl\o itn .lati\ e COn-
--r'rj (tic.t\ i,í rr shr¡le, culturll p;rthol-
.-- -:,:.:: r'.;cr:irc ¡h.rr ,rrr rlo nruch. just
-. -- - ..,.: l-:,,-1,,1..!.¡,rf thc dontinltor svs-
, --,..:,..::l'.r::i:; irc.tlr cngiltts of thc ¡rt
- .:: ..: .i. ::]r('rr r1r.'l\\l\( !rtcrg\,
cconornic and publicitaire, translating iuto creativc energv,"
write s Artl, ur Danto, in ;tn e ssry callcd " N¡rrative s of thc
L,nd of Art." Nevertlrcless, the "tr¿usaction" r.nentalit¡ rs
highly skcptical of anyonc who trics to break out of rts crcdo
oi succcss. In our prescnt urind-sct, it's hlrd to conccivc <.ri
art frorn the perspcctive of scrvice, or as somcthing thet isn't
cornlnensurate only with itself. If you start rcjecting the cul-
tural ideals of cconomic success and conrpctitivc strivit.tg, or
start challenging thcse ingraincd perccptions <¡f how *,c
understa¡rd our placc in thc world, you tltrc;rtcn to brcak thc
barriers that keep us locked in denial. At stakc is our per-
sonal identity as defined by thc particular vicw of lifc that
our culture has madc availablc to us.
Most people are :tware that the system isn't
working, that it is time to move on and to revise the dcstruc-
tive myths tlrat are guiding us. We hrrvc been programmed
into a bclicf structure that is losing its fcasibility as a socill
forrn, but we ctn't rccovcr without being open to tra¡rsfor-
mation. Recovcry is the wiUingness to nrakc e systcrns shift.
You n-right even say this transformatio¡t has bcconre the tnoral
impcrativc of our tin¡e.
rJlhrt are the tions of suclr ¿¡ chan lll
consclousnessr ib
scc our owll Drilctlce:1s
earr Wirh-
out seflous rts to reassess our rclationi c present
framework and its practices, new patterns won't take hold.
Vestcd interests will cnsure that ¡hey are maintaincd as beforc.
Intil

ncw
r
etext for

to chr , l¡ccar¡sc or¡r u'lrole

soclc son Scnac s it rrs "nro-
to drstr r r lslr lt trorn su Fncc addrction.
arc

' 'lto(a lf AJrl"

l'
'^
-__ ::..J: ,.r),ltcil

:- i\.'l\' ¡l'l in !,
: t.t: ta r\
:i :. \\( .liicrlt ¡n(l
conlorm to the sv\-
i\'\[cm
: t - , :: : ::'.r \\.1\' of tltit'l §-iMI3i_-
' . ' - ' -. .. :--,r -r.,lrcrrr onlv hone is tr¡ con-
rn- I

. l)onrinioue \,1aieaucl, u,ho

a
.r: -:- pr()lccr she cells The Gre¡t
-:: ii.:'. :':. C)ncr. ¡ month. ritually
'-J
rrh s.rrhJgc hxgs
rr
::.r :- .:Irls §'ho somefintes
, : - I .:: ,: ,,'.:t of tht rt|er. Pert
:- -: -r -.-. :.¡.:::¡i::it., follori,ine

Jrop. ntc
"l:-::r:
-'. i', r¡.1:¡:r ol ¡ht:
. i '.,. o¡rl¡l 1ln¡l §¡¡¡
.,. r:l.l nLrr in nrv tler'. I
'-- :lil:ll itln tr htch nt¡kcs I
: ::.r\ e i-. . . . \'cs. I sce whnr
'' i:

-. _j r:-.. --1tl
'' ---:'- -.r:
'' - :_:-.i:',,:hcr
, -.: :]
' . -.r .l .ii:\ ()rtc
. -: - l:r¡lcs. rosltries.
'.. ,. lJ. \'rsrrors
sto1.r bv ntv door and look
: :.'i'J;\ l.ricl ckrrvn on a strip of febric. "Wh¡t
:-:. .l\i. "Thrsr- ¡re sonrc' of the tre¡srrrcs I
--:-.i lÍr)nr thc river." "You foL¡ncl thrs lirtlc
- ': \ es." I rtplv. "cven thc tu,o S-5 bills. . . ."

lt9
I really enjoy talking about thc river, as if she were my
fricnrl.
I am glad I am walking slowly . . . because it
allows me to catch great "pictures." It's not thet I can
carve thcm out and put thcm in a fr¿nrc whcn I gct home,
but it is that they are such srrong imagcs that they quickly
fill the screen of my mind. They are called "soul-inrprints"
in my river vocabulary.
Dec. 2. Why in all religions is water such a
sacred symbol? How much longer is it going to take us
to sec thc trouble of our watcrs? How manv more dead
fish floating on the Rhine River. . . ? How many kinds
of toxic waste dumpings? Whcn are wc g«.ring to turn
our malady of separateness around? Most of the glass
we find is broken, but even so, the two of us picked up
103 lbs. in the 14 hours of work we pur in thar day.
How rnany tirnes did I wonder about rhe per-
sons who hurl the beer bottles down the rocks: in the
upper part of the river or, later on, from or undcr the
bridges, trying to imagine what wc¡rr into thrs xction. ls
it that man is inherently violent, is it that rherc is noth-
ing else to do othcr than smashing l¡ottles into thc river?
Is it pure and simple fun?
Merch ly.

I can't get rwey from you river

In the middle of the night
I feel you on my back
In my throat, in my heart. . . .

lWe decide to clean the dumping arca lnd set

out to work. This is a more delicate operation than pick-
ing up "a can and then xnorher." It's soilcd rabbit lit-
ters, crates filled with rorting fruit scartered all over, and
more. Some of it is encrusted in the ice, some of it has
been burnt. As soon as we start stlrring, the offensive
smell of the decaying fruit hits us and rhe ashes soil the
water... what a mess, but we get to it "faccs dor.vn,"
so to speak.
July 14. Today I realize that, in fact, it is the
6rst time I am truly alone in the river. . . . I went to the
block where, back in November, I not only saw the suf-

120
:cring oi thr. river bur also the cle¡th of thc rivcr..ltrst ls
i ¡oLrlJ no longcr u,:rlk ()n rrlshcd riverlranks rvitlroLrt
.l,,int sonrething ¡hout it, I coulcl no longer bc there
'.'. r:hr)ut trrnsposing my u,itncssing into somc form that

:¡,,ric coLilcl shnrc. Th¡t d¡v I started my "riveries." . . .

.JLrlv 20. Trvo more hu{:c brgs I coLrlcl hardly
:-,::', :r¡ thc c¡ns. I clon't count anyntore . . . I tlon't
r:: ,-r;r.c nrr' "err for thc certh" in thc plpers eithcr. I
i - : :cfort nrv fl'nds nor nry timc for thc ncwsletter of
:,':.; i' llt,.trrtifirl. All elone in thc rivcr, I prry and pick
:. : ,.: rrn .rncl prav.
\\'ho c¡n I really talk to about what I see? I
- : :.rn (luietl\', knorving that I, too, must hlve becn
- - - -: :r\ .rr onc time. I havc llso noticed that I stopped
- - -' - : ::c so-c¡llcd trc¡sures of thc rivcr. It wls OK
- - ^ :::rrnq. but «rdav I fcel it rvas lru,ving into thc
]
-' .- : .. ':cnr of rrlr-tllatls-so mudroS jilTl-oricnñilT-
'.,-,..,rr:rng rh.rr rvllrr I ¡m ,l,,rng is .rrt tlrat I
- l1--.r :

- -: .,,,nltlii,,g?
\,r.-lrt. Icell nr,v river-journal nty "riveries."
..,\ ((r .r \\ or(l [or thc fcclines that rny "river-
- - -. ':,'r l. j'jng rr¡ in nre ? Vould "raqcries" clescril¡e
-: il.rr L|r I rcrllv rage? I h¡vc l,cen talking e
-: ¡.lilt. slrlness. Is rxge my ncxt step?
- :, :::.¡¡ l\r rr':rv of nry u,ork? Worrlcl it nrake
' .r- .i.uvrsr th¡n I ¡m? Woulcl it nrakc mc
- -.: ;,)mn]unir! rt¡out u,hat it is that I am

- l- \i.rrccl D)uchxmp)cx:hiibi)lte ted eu

¡ un
rime threree 'as.sn';n't xn)
e nv
,]n ltct o)f rl
trrAlnssgr
gresssio
on.
st¡rtlinrgb,
bc atl lse it is n'
use
ctla c cs itt i-l t conl

Ii ¡r'e so Iittlc
' --..--ñh.rr\\e arc not likcl\'
:. .:r :.:J:. ,.,. a .1a¡i\ clY i1\ oid it in Or-¡r
.,:'::-r-: ::::-<r:::. Thrr rs dctinirelv not
-:.-- '- -:': :':a l', ncr.'tcrrr rtr ltnd jock-
- . -: --- .: . " ,: ::.t.l \.lri.lti()n ot)
the old system, but ref'lccts a completcly differcnt, more
"ferninine" approach to thc world.
\fhat Mazcaud's project forces us ro see is the
powcr operating in our cogtritive irnd institutioni¡l structurcs.
"None of us is {u-lly a_wake to how much tlrc masculinc pur-
su iióf powcr, p rod uction. n resricé añd..-'aicornól illiñlEñi'
inrooverishes us and drives thc fcmininc vrrlues out of orrr ur
-/----'.'',',,..-...--.-.,.
lves, I(o ohnson writes in W¿. Wrrhin patriarchy, we
arc trained to rcspcct only what is nrastcrful, expcnsive and
imposing. Mazeaud isn't competing in the patriarchal systcn.r
at all, but stands truc to her own fcminine nature. By return-
ing to the river cvery month on the same date to rcsumc her
task once again, she makes the ritual process into a redcmp-
tivc act of hcaling. A writcr-friend of mine sees Mazeaud's
project as a variaiion on the anciénr myth of Isis, who wes
queen of Egypt. The human debris she gathers are rhe dis-
membered parts of the murdered Osiris (garbage being a
wondcrful cipher for how wc are disrnembercd by our tech-
nologies). Through her worry and carc, Mazeaud resurrects
Osiris's body, ensuring the rencwed fertility of the vcgetablc
kingdom in the crescent of thc river. Caring nowadays, the
Dalai Lama has often statcd, is not a luxury. lt is a nlatter of
su rvival.
tm rolect
involves the 's ir.r assersby who
e s up to. For lvfazcaud herself, what has
rtant is her evolvin
confrdaníe,
rstand

xst mon itation dir

ln r nstruc-

it'
rvhere I
nver ts
otl uest sl e¡ rned
m rnss: tnc howevcr- is rvhat tl.re

122
 .r{
narrative" of art histo ltm
I §)
on Arth ur
o ar8ues, rn an essay entr etlc in
drc U.S.A.," that the whole philosophy of modern aesrhetics
rs under pressure of redefinition. Traditional myths such as
úc masterpiece, the individual genius, the museum and the
gikr.v are being deconstructed by feminists and postmod-
cr¡¡rrs alike. Artists no longer worry about moving art his-
q íor*-ard. It isn't only women, Danto claims, who have
t¡odomd the tradition of "good aesthetics." Even males,
L ¡¡-rr -rem to have lost the knack of continuing the great
o&ixl . . . Cézanne,, Bonnard, Matisse, Picasso, Duchamp,
rd crcn lfarhol and Lichtenstein have no true successors."
D- rpeculates that for many people, the collapse of the
'¡nd narrarive" of art history doesn't signify the end of art
as the end of a particular narrative history: of artists
--ch as thel'did within modernism, to previous art.
!E r heppening, he claims, is that one set of imperatives
.h- hftcd from the practice of art as it enters its posthis-
pt¿s.. So *'hat does it mean, Danto wonders, to be
--J -ri¡
-r drc posthistorical period? How do we continue?
§hat is not vet clear within the patriarchal main-
r-r Laro'cr-and here I think I am reading the forces
b&gr orrectlv-is that the cultural recovery of the fem-
¡riqlc is the key to recovery from the institutional
a¡¡rcs
- of patriarchy from which we are all suffering,
d *ó, dr¡n r¡'ords of Jungian psychologist Marion
f¡-+ 'É caring the heart our of this sociery." "How
lC ¡d rorrn.' Woodman asks, 'trained in a patriar-
fl --=r e¡r'err, goal-onented perfectioniss-find their
g E io a rclanonship u'ith their or+'n lost hearts?"
Ib fÉ3 foo<rion-the rear,r,akening of our capaciry to be
cn¡cial to ñnding our $'ay out of the evo-
-tl-%
bry s rc'rc in- Thc emerging new mvth in our time
d o ¡ bc rhc m¡ir of empathr'--+he capacity to share
ft --*.? r frcling" to live in rhe consciousness of our
d¡s, Th¡s rs óc fund¡me¡tal ecological vision.
Cansoou3 femrnrnrn. manifesting itself as what

r l.l
 Woodman calls "an awareness of living in the world soul,"
should not be confused with political issues likc thc Equal
Rights Amendment, or other ferninist agendas. Nor are u,e
talking here about female subject rnattcr in art, or increasing
rnuseum exposure for women. Rather, wc arc talking about
the reemergence of certain neglected archetypal aspects of
the human psyche, cnabling morc fenrinir.re ways of being ro
be reinstated in the generel psychological patterns of socicry.
As for what all of this implies for art, the injunc-
tion is, using Danto's sunlmary dcscription, "to bcgin a non-
exploitative history in which ¿rrt is sonrcthing put to immediate
human ends, rathcr then somcthing destined for the brilliant
collection, the dramatized auction room, the sanctuary of the
museum, the graphic tonlb of the expensiie art book."
Exposing thc inability of prescnt institutional
¡ rnodels to bring about transformation has been the chicf value
lof the aggressive ground-clearing of deconstruction. Allan
IMcCollum's Plaster Surrogales_, - for insrance, are_ a. shrervd
commentary on what occurs wlren a grt!9-!ngguiding truth beao Ines
' bafklupi; ihey exemplify, perhápi bciiéi=ih-an any oih-r
- deconltiuctive work, the p a rad i gm a ti c
l4g[!4--sl.-!rgg!etic
codes that have becomc-julihnothir ¡iétrified frnnul¡ for an
-'inrage-driven spcctlclc.'§flith' tlfS¡;rrorJr,'i*e
society of lpecticlc.-'üfiitli-
inrasc-driven s<¡cicty Og¿J¡CS, wC
' have come full circle, to thc zero-sunr point of Kurt Schwit-
ters's statement at an early stage of the modernist projcct:
"Tlre picturc is a self-contair¡cd work of art. lt rcfers to rroth-
ing outside of itsclf. Nor can ¡ consistent lvc¡rk of art refcr to
anything outside of itself without losing its tics to ¡rt."
By representing rhe[ari object \in its mod_al e xis-
as q-omqodrty arr{spectaLle, UfCclllun_is simply lay-
' tence
ing bare thc functiorr it fulñlliln ielarion to thc culture at
large. When art, as Peter Flalley puts it, "has bcen reconsti-
tuted according to the processes of bourgeois consci<.rus-
ness," the thing that everybody really talks about is l.row to
get a show. This is the shadowy iyllru1g_y!.r5 aesthetics
melds with economics as the mein metaphor for a singlc valuc
'system inihich thé artist, without any other social role to
play, seeks to gain the attention of collectors, curators xnd
critics. A crisis of purpose is at stake here, and as Baudrillard

hou, i, 124
succinctly puts it, "the boil is growing out of control." "We
ere no longer in a state of growth," he writes in "The Anor-
eric Ruins," "we are in a state of excess. We are living in a
society of excrescence, meaning that which incessantly devel-
ops rvithout being measurable against its own objectives."
Through overprodqction and excess, the system overextends
irself ,ic?umlñ-tes,só.awl.s-siides-íñ-mh-ypErtióp-hy,o-bliter-
ates its own purposes, leaves behind its-own goals and accel-
erates in a vacuum. McCollum captures it all brilliantly, in a
single Gestalt: the intensification of the aesthetic process in a
void. Production and then overproduction and exhaustion of
crearivity at the same time, Our whole culture's cooptation
into rhe growth economy and the codes of cons[itrptióñ. Ths
conteii ói no-conie-i-t.-Th?y're - n-ó-i-even laintings, "
\{cCollum says about the Surrogates, "only plaster objects
rvhich may, at a distance, resemble framed images." But every
surrogate has been signed, dated and numbered, and no two
are identical. lWe are in the presence of "original works."
"Enframing" is a way of seeing, inherited from
the Renaissance, that produced the notion of the spectator
rvho steps back and observes, who is the surveyor of the scene
bur outside of it, separete from what he sees. But if the frame
is dissolved, the spectatorial orientation associated with the
6xed gaze disappears, and we are in the presence of another
vision entirely--one that Levin describes as enveloping and
relational. Vision premised on empathy rather than on mas-
tery is released from its reifying tendencies and is cognitively
geared to the achievement of very different goals. Enframing
is related to the domination of vision, which is the most rei-
fying of all our perceptual modalities, as the paradigm for
knowledge-a way of seeing, according to Levin, that impli-
cates vision in the "will to power" that characterizes patriar-
chal consciousness-an objectifying that presses forward and
masters. The "self" of this tradition is essentially Carte-
sian-th4t is. rational and separate/ The Cartesian self is not
really compatible with a world view attempting to recover
its sense of wholeness and interdependence-its sense of the
living continuum that cannot be cut up and divided because
of the symbiotic interactions and interpenetrations of every-

125
 '7,[1r11 .\.r¡\ iirr.
- n\rf
thing within it. Ai rhis point, we rcally need ro work our, in
our ordinary understanding of art, its unconscious parrici-
pation in what Levin terms the "collective historicat pathol-
ogy" of our vision-the observing, spectator consciousness,
in which the subiect exists independenrly of rhe objecs around
it. The new ethics of participation, it would seem, demands
e radically different modality of engagement.
The Cartesian gaze (the disembodied eye) has been
so integral to aesthetics, and to the world view of technolog-
ical modernism-it conditions the character of our involvé-
ment with things so much-that it is hard to imagine it would
ever be replaced. The bottom linqj t McCollum's "fake"
Dalntrnss Dass more easl as " real" s p.oi-
3f;¡-iiqüc"p;Éc,--¡ retalnS
_ a -although a n_eg?_rjv.e or.re, wit
¡_e-13¡i9¡¡-s_hip, of
Cartesian aesthetics, 1ryhigf rests on rhe;úb¡ecr-óbiect dual-
l_r,u..Th¡n¡.ins abouihow aásrnéiiói ¡i'i-óli¡'"r.aÍ, p"Eñ.-
chal modes of consciousness, I happened to pick up a copy
of Vogue magazine, in which the critic Clement Gieenbeig
was interviewed by Dodie Kazanjian on the pivotal role of
Cubism in the development of modern arr. "All major painr-
ing in_ our time," Greenberg srares, "major painting, mind
you-has assimilated Cubism, one way or anorher. .-. . This
is the, record. I don't lay down the law, I only go by the
record." He continues:

Duchamp . . . never discerned what it was about. I think

hesaw the surface of it, that's all. . . . Mondrian . . . got
it fairly early, . . . Giacometti before the war was libir-
a.ted. by Cubism. Lipchitz was a Cubist sculpto¡r_!!9qlr
think Brancusi was._ Then of course there wai .¡llio Gon-
zález .. . and David Smith, wlro I think kepr the bur-
geoning radition of abstract sculpture going, better even
than Picasso. Betrcr rh¿n Gonzá\e2.... Pollock assimi-
lated Cubism by osmosis. He never made any bones about
what he owed ¡o Cubism. ... All the Abstract Expres-
sionist artists had contact with Cubism, [which was] a
kind of foundation for them . . . therc's ,*r..n.ri, I
maintain, of Cubism in paintcrs like"n Newman and
Rothko. Of course Gorky and de Kooning and Kline

1,26
 and Motherwell and Gottlieb, they had their Cubism by
heart, as it were: Clyfford Still is a different case. He
knew Cubism, but his work came more, in its tortuous
way, out of Miró's departure from Cubism. . . . [it goes
onl
Much more is involved here than iust aesthetic
bisplining. Gender ideology is usually a little more subtle
rd indire'ct than this, but what an immaculate example to
cb hend, iust as I am writing this.It c, !_Lrr -
¡Él7 tow much modern aesthetics has been struc-

dl&otius-mean
- in tffisense thá{at leastfor Gieen6erg,
ioems to consist entirely of male walruses. The
-hrf ila of stepping into a major league lineage based on
iir ranking, like the chronicles of baseball 'greats,"-
order of things-proiects a masculine
lnprcscnts an archetypal motif for a kind of individ-
rrurd in the patriarchal myth of the iudgmental
:Frg; Llnder the Divine King's rule, whatever does not
¡ih úis rigid system of order is discounted. More
ctc, it was Green who defined the concept
art
ce and succession:the kind
us' drat Danto suggests have now-gg¡qe to an
Grcarbcrg, above all, who promoted

mxtualized art. As the primary orchestrator

módernism, his influence on aftistic prac-
prolound. His criticism has been the philosoph-
of modern art for over three decades, not so
pcqk bclieve his ideas or support his theories
¡6irts n€gatively against them), but because
-
Ecophical framework úe have. No one else,
dHfq-
rlt fqa Fints out in his 1979 monograph on
Grtf,b FoecGd s¡¡ch a coherent position.
. L a re bcomc more conscious of the sub-
qi rtadq, erc living out in this culture, and how
-
i lrl¡ad c üaütq ftclings and behaviors, we can-
r lfi Ür mitr lpr mod¡ modernism has evolved under

127
 (0!t,i Ft.tt L\ i.t) (i-
tl.re influence of combatjye, r¡ascqlinized velues. Greenberg's
evaluation of ;ll iho;;;rilrtt li ñot inaccurate-the devil-
opment of modernism was.quite ostentatiously identified with
the patriarchal sti¡nce of a solitary, battling hcro. This ¡s tlic
vision encoded in our culture. Its theories and modelsrar¿ '
* bascd in images o[ donrinancc. a-ñ-d iÍliooEnrctaphor ,-,f ii.t- -
icál a u«¡no¡rú docs sacri fi Ji iilitir» r,r I v,rl üclto i¡r ti'l i.;ñ a n J
-pro?l«. -tvlo?iiir aesthetics, certainly es Grccnberg con-
-
ceived it, has been a static, cognitive endeavor, ¡rroceeding
according to its own "laws," without any reciprocal rela-
tionship to an observer, or for that n)atter, to life. It has led
to a kind of ¡rt of fetishistic objccts, that ¿rc scvcrcd fro¡.rr
social relations and produced for a public of spectators or
consumers. Our prcsent nrodels, which until recently h¡ve
been focused on notions of autgnomy and mastery, have bcen
notably uncongenial to any aspect of the psyche that is reccp-
tive or conncctive, that emphasizcs the importance of rela-
tionship and harmonious social interaction. fhis sglCg_gl¿qsp
aff lia-ti-qn, whrsh_b¡sqlclhrelS,lrtbe !!!usroq of_!§p!-(a!c!ess
-and dualis-¡0, is.the highe_sJ principlé of the feminine.
According to the insights of both Woodman and
Levin, we have to connect to the repressed fenlinine bccausc
thc power that driva¡--1he p¿t@r
so¡ia-l addiciibli; É;s ro be !."nrfoñ6d. 7r Ufóoá* ,"yr,
tñe.e hri to-6e a counterbalii.:it6-alliliat frenzy, ambition,
competition and materialisn.r. lt needs to be said that both
mcn and women becorne trapped in power drives; when
women see themselves from tl.rc perspective of patriarchy,
they can often be worsc patriarchs than me¡r.
I recently attended a symposium in Indianapolis
that examined the rolc of women in the arts and the prob-
lems contemporary women encounter in defining thernselves
as artists. Onc of the speakers, a local artist named Ellic Sis-
kind, told an amazing story (wlrich I later asked her for per-
mission to include here). Twenty ycars ago, after raising her
children, Siskind decided to resur¡e her carlier pursuit of art.
She wrote to a famous woman artist, who was teaching in
Baltimorc at the time, to ask if she taught any summer work-
shops or classes that Siskind might travcl to attcnd. The ertist

t28
 was Grace Hartigan, an Abstract Expressionist painter, well
rrained in a cultural heritage. that-va lues only *hr, on. io.r,
not r¡'hat one is. Hartigan replied that even tháugh she thoughí
tt was never too late to create, when she was Siskind's age
(óirr.v-six), she. had already been shown all over the worlá,
ridr anists such as de Kooning, pollock, Kline and Rothko.
FIcr graduate students, she said, *... ,il, appropriately, in
drir midru'enties. and she did no other teaiÉinj. Uri igon
úmght of Siskind's identi6cation as .,more in tñe reaim of
rLet ¡'ou wish you had done instead of your realiw_-what
¡oo did-- -She wished her well, but added: lyears'that #
b ¡¡e irréiiiEva
D
Siskind assured the gasping audience that,
üogh she had saved rhe letter fór i*.-nty y.r.r, waiting
& úc spmenr ro reveal it, she had not alloíed iL pot.n-
--y demaging contenr ro discou¡¿gs ¡.. from continriing to
dr ¡t s¡.¡ccessfu lly. Life, in Hartigan,s view, was clearlvyaa
!=-g¡¡q-O 4!-o!e-- sed-u p::-ia u r th, n, p.o.ár, o f
the
IñFj
EEL_B¡' parriarcha
p, r'i ricn
rr l l
I t,
srafr r
noa r¿ i, identiry
srandards,
ros,
a s ty irs; ;;;
en flti ry
oen
dÁ a Ii ..üt.t tfi r"ueh
clgg..!gl_!¡Iql!8t
Ii

,".rrrr,1- rdr¡rs.¡u(¡
fame_and rank.
rurrK. -ruogett
JüdgEISy tEese gqo
oy rnese eeoTááG
ldeals-
b¿d not broken l-nto tl-e clu6. Hei lack oiachiev._
r¡d ¿cdaim at age rhirry-six was a sign to Hartigan of
t=¡d -alcquao. rhar quire simply put heiout of the iirace,'
It l-d drivers. V'omen artisis oi- Harrigan.s generation
through the emularion of áen; riey rarely
{nEEd úc
=fF5-"qn basrc scripr. In her commenrs ro me, Srskin<i
&¡+
(L a rurdcrstand thar a *,oman coming out of the
tllL ilr ru see other alrernatives than thiat a woman
.rl erther_an or i¡mri]ITl6iñiEiiIññ
|lfr -rchoosr.
¡rrncrl In 1915. ¡7¿rrt¡rt was berng pub-
E!* -¡¡ú. runcn ¡rtists' movement had reverúeáted
t b ¡ htlá¡r¡p¡li1 and ir is difficulr to think that
lGre -¡¡ ¡¿r¡re of fcminisr politics, but rarher thar
lc ¡ fo¡¡nrn. . . . Thr. I do not think it is
d- -'.fi-E
¡ rr bct or¡ r.ords to characterize patriarchat
É-É
.'- .: :-, !.
r llg
1!
 -+"
: )t'
t')!\ i l\!v.f J vf ltt' '

li l,i,tl l¡ rí¡n, ¡l
J
I

It is crucial to understand that there is a serious difference

between "feminist" issues and the cultural recovery of the
fcminine f,IincfilE. Iiñda Schierse Leonerd puts it wcll in Táe
\v6;ñt. "Vhcn women hopc á achicve the vic-
V oundíTtcd\vl-
tories of men by being likc them, the uniqucness of the fem-
inine is subtly undcrvalued, for thcre is an underlying
assumption that the masculine is morc powerful." Inritating
the m4sculine devalues the femrnine bv implicitl@
the mascultne as su Derror-
_----..?_.*

lt theoretical-instrumental reason has operated for

-
many centuries in the service of the masculine, can we
encourage a radically different tendency? Levin asks in Táe
Opening of Vision. "lt may be time, psychologically speak-
ing, for us to ground our vision in the principle of the femi-
nine archetype.. . . The gazc of thcoretical-instrumental reason
needs to be reintegrated with a visit¡n of wholeness, a vision
of fceling, a vision of life." The imbalance bctween the mas-
culi¡re and the feminine must be correctcd evetr in our ways
of channeling perception and attention, goals and values. "ln
thinking through such possibilities," he adds, "we shall 6nd
that our visionary being is at stake. Our destiny n:ay depend
on our resporlse to the historical challenge."
The reanimating and rcvitelizing of postnrodern
culture that I refer to in this book as the the Reenchantment
project, to distinguish it fronl the patriarchal structures of
the Cartesi tenmenr, wilLinvolve-a -r9r1rcg_|11gljf
rysiEd "anima" wisdom of the fe¡!ñiñE,

thetic models based on masculinized notions of radical

autonomy. lt seems cver nlore obvious that the dichoton.rous
pattcrns of patriarchy have given us scparation and detach-
ment and what Levin calls "rationality without hcart." The
consciousness that Descartcs projects is a solitary one. The
sense of everything being in opposition rather than in rela-
tion is the essence of the old point of vicw, whcreas the world
view that is now emcrging dcrnands that we enter into a union
with what we perceive, so that we can see with the eyes of
compassion. The success or failure of the Reenchantment

130
prolect will depend on our integration of these participative,
empathic and relational modalities of engagement. They are
nowhere better formulated than in Catherine Keller's deñni-
don of "empathic," in From a Broken Web: "Feeling the
world into myself, feeling my way into the world, all these
meanings unfurl from the idea of radical relatedness." If
modernism developed around the notions of radical auton-
omy and art for art's sake, the politics of a connective aes-
thetics is very different.

131
 CHeprrn 9
"MEANINGI-rss Won«" oR AN "ETHIC
or CAnE" ?

Behg an artist carries uith it a great potential

and a great obligation. . . .ln a cubure made
up of images, sound, and stories created by
artists who do not bold themselues account-
able for that uery cubure, we haue a set-up
for destruction.
Suzanne Lacy

'We
baue as yet no socially based art criticism
whicb can address the inherent irresponsibil-
ity of the ruork of art.
J eremy Gilbert-Rolfe

I'm questioning the cuhural and societal

changes in the role of the artist. . . . I'm afraid
that if tue don't address broader issues in art-
making, we'll be left with dn empty bag.
Keitb Sonnier

1,32
 Th.". i, a clear relationship between our picture
oÍ rhe s'orld and how the cultural imperatives of modernism
have been understood. Most of our definitions of art have
¡cguired their full meaning in the course of a long historical
proc6s. We could, for instance, trace a certain "lineage"-
bcginning rvirh Cubist collage and the "junk" aesthetic, that
ror¡ld include Kurt Schwitters's environmental Merzbaue
osuctions, continuing through Robert Rauschenberg's
'obines.' right up to the British sculptors Tony Cragg I
rd lt ll §'oodrorv-of artists who scavenge th'e bcaclies or I
al rGrs-fóf discarded materials that might serve in their I

r- Llc \tazeaud, these artists have "collected" the trash, f

hr bccause of any concern with pollution; they wanted /
D .+úd rlg_loundaries -of aes-thetic expression. When
f-¿aFe took his bed, together w-ñh-Trsquilt and pil-
h, painted on it in 1955, it seemed a little bit wild,
b- -dr rmplied that anything could be used to make art-
lh Lordcs" old newspapers, dirty socks, broken umbrellas,
F¿óutes. used tires, even a stuffed goat. Rauschen-
l¡
-t dd dre criúc Jeanne Siegel, ín 1966, "After you recog-
ik óc canvas vou're painting on is simply another rag,
b i der't maner whether you use stuffed chickens or
hlbs or pure forms." Tony Cragg also uses found
¡li.rded bits of colored plastic that he collects-
-rdk
t-\ ú¡¡id *rldliie' of thrown-away cups, combs, chil-
Us qr flos'ers. rvhistles, bottle tops-arranging the
fu- aomaricallv as if they were pieces of a mosaic to
C--< o{ human fgures and other objects on the wall.
b,t968 rs m¡de endrelv of blue plastic objects, while
ftJ'-ág brers in Real Plastic Loue (1.984) are com-
Faf ¡LG:nd pink plasric bits. Bill Woodrow slices up
{ -tFqts ¡nd air conditioners, and once he eviscer-
d ¡ dd rDdrarr. to make his extraordinary sculptures.
EE a+f 'lcsc ertisrs make their an out of real things,
crc.rt of r¡úL r-c don't have any problem rvith seeing
rkty&sen-
fc old pcim further to another lineage-the
.-rdFJ -d c¡rth ¡n or üc 1970s, r¡'hen anists like lVal-
=r & §lrr¡ ¡rld RróiiüLong rraveled to remote places and

Di
 made their work dircctly in thc lendscepe. Sonretinrcs they
did Iro nrorc than walk a linc in tlrc dcscrt, or rcilrrlruge some
¡ stoncs at the top of a nlou ntain-situations for \\'hich, at the
I timc, thcre was no artistic prccerJcrrr. But I strbnrir that I nag-
i si ng u nwil [ngn-ess to acceplMazcaud's- p-roicct-_as art srill
I,holdflway. Vhat makes it so challenging to critical thcorv?
It c-an't only be the abscnce of formal conccrns or lack of a
signature style, since nlany artists have strategically relin-
quished thosc. Certainly by now we arc uscd to art bre¡king
out of the institutional framcs, denrolishing our expectations
or pushing our beliefs about its own definition to thc limit-
cvcr siuce Duchanrp, we have becn prcparcd to trcat any object
as a work of art. Why, then, docs this particular project per-
sist in cscaping our usual catcgorial grasp? \ühat nrakcs using
a bed for canvas, or walking a linc in thc dcscrt, or cxhibiring
a manufacturcd urinal, more acceptirble as art than hauling
4 ¡vithercd sofa out of a dying river?
The differencc Iics, I bclicvc, in the intcntions of
tl.rc artists, and in lrow tlrey see the consequences of thcir
work. \fithin thc acstlptic-Érar:-rework, rcal-lifc actions or
-sltuaüons can som bü.ó u I yasl'óIr g1s t}q-a re
not use servc no pll rr]Tc context ofinod-
ern áesthetics, cre:rtiviiy--láiodds with uti I it¡rian purpose.
Rauschenbcrg's bcd is not meant to bc slept in. The urinal
has been strippcd of its normal function by bcing situated in
an art exhibition-this is what ¡nakes it art. Last spring, I
saw a show at the Ncw Museum of Contenrporary Arr in
New York, in which the Bclgian artist Guill¿unre Biil had
installcd an entirc futon §hcrp, 6uil-ou couldn't sit on, or
buy, the futons. This was art, so they were "Not for Use." [n
1985, thc same artist turned an exhibition space at thc Src-
delijk Museum into a showroon.r for Oriental c;:rpcts, whicl.r
were spread out and stacked all over. What Duchanrp did
with a single found object, Ilijl does with an entire environ-
ment: he turns it into a work of art by stripping it of its
function and putting it into an art contcxt. Other environ-
mcnts Ilijl has appropriatcd and installed in various nruseurns,
gallcrics and art fairs are a gymnasium, a l.rairdrcssing salon,
a laundromat, a gambling casirro, rr ¡rsychiatric ward and a

1.34
 'J t' ) i

j::ess centcr. Tlre artist vies,s them as prototypes of social

::.:rrurions that rt'flect thc values and beliefs of our time.
-fherc
is, in our managed capitalist culture, a lot
-: :.-sistrrncc to the idea of "useful" art-the aesthetic etti-
::: i.' a.'Ilst [,c disintercsted and unconnected to other human
r'.:=oie\. "Art docsn't have a purpose," Chris Burden declared
: - --{. "lt's a free spot in sociery, where you can do any-
:- -:.' Tirc .lisrinctiveness of aesthetic experience has been
:-,r:- :: :he namc of unfetterecl creativity and abstract free-
: -. .-::: \\.1\ u n i¡ ccotr l.rtable-nnequ ivocably divorced from
:-'- :,: -ri of rnorllity and socicty. Avant-garde creativity in
- - i-.'::{ h.l.l
::- an almost grandiose arbitrariness about it;
.nir quotes l)avid Smirh as staring ther hrs "only
- ' ' - ',,r rr.rkirrg sculnrtrre rv:ts ¡ñ arrogant indr'pen-
i:- -: : -:-i.l:c. Our culture's most cherished idea remains
l. rñsisrcnce on frcedom for its own sake, free-
: - - - .:¡ ¡¡.1ar5-¡he kind of freedom that makes pick-
-: -: ' : ::-:'.lgc r'¡licl as art only if you want to "romance"
--: --:.- :-.:::i. usc it foran aesthetic effect)., bu_t n-o!Ú_ypu
.-:: -: --, :t. i.lli,c-,;ñrn,to try to clcan rñ t-I.,e ,ñ.. In
---, - .--. ::-.Icrr. treedom, l meaningful lcit-on h¡sed on
,.-r: - ,r.r re¡l need is more likely to be viewed as
-. :;-r-l rr is as art-l¡ecause in the language of
:.:.--::... .rrr h¡s becn dcfined as "meaningless
- .'^ , ¡hc artist \\/elter de Maria published a \
- - :- : , : ,:.: "\f c.rninglcss \X/ork," that is a mtntmant-
--.- - -'-- - : r,,i.rr¡ ¡s meaningless rvork: \

:l .::.1 i,,nh .rnJ \r) on is rr fine erlmplc

:-. .L -.. (l: .lrScrng .r l¡r¡lc. thcn coverinq
- -\:-::. !: ::: :.'::!'ri ln .l hlinq Clhinet
- :--.- --.r- -:.'" .r'':l¡ "-lr il nnc rrerc
 clcs and you know it. ... Mcaninglcss work is potcn-
tially the nrost . . . inrportant art-irctiou expcricncc one
can undertakc today.

ln thc carly l9o0s a rcfusal to capitulrtc to the

valuc placed on skillcd labor and productivity in the exisrirrg
social arrangements of our socicty wirs a popular notion. lt
was the period of Fluxus, an early form of light-hcarted, neo-
Dadaist, ephemeral art in pursuit of the idea of the absurd
and instigated largely through thc cfforts of Gcorgc Macu-
nias, a Lithuanian who studicd art at Cooper Union, in New
York. The movement ncver quite man,rgcd to dcfine itself,
but it cle arly manifested a certain disaffcction rvith the more
aesthetic, didactic, "high" art.
The point was to create work that was deliber-
atcly antiheroic ¡nd-¿ntimonumental, subvcrsive of tech-
nical viituosity, withour s¡yle'-arrdfocqsed o4 simple, even
trivial tasks. Macunias srw Fluxus as an antiart movement,
' diss-olving the distinction berween art and ordinary life. George
Brecht, another Fluxus artist, created a series of "event scores,"
which were printed instructions on small file c,rrds that he
kept in a box callcd "Water Yanr." Mostly, they were point-
lcss exercises that werc never performed, such as the "No
Smoking Evcnt," for which the instructions were:

Arrangc to ubscrve il No sMoKING sign

' Srroking
' No Snroking

Yoko Ono produced a work cntitlcd Apple (1966), in which

an apple was placed on a tablc, and mcrnbers of the audience
were invited to take a bite. John Cage introduced the notion
of music composed by chance methods. Yvonne Reiner cho-
reographed a dancc for the Judson Dancc Theater, called Par¡s
of Sonte Scxtets, in which dancers walked brck and forth
across thc stage lugging mattrcsscs. ln Tl¡rce Scascupcs (1962),
she had a screaming fit with a winter coat and a length of
white gauze. Andy §/arhol 6lmcd Robert ltrdiana eating a

136
 I

'H+Oiltr-_rough. casual and partly improvisational

c. sbch oirr¡ ¡n.{uded acrions bv the audience. Some-
ü.rt r¡s ¡ro audie¡c-e. as rvith a u'ork that was com-
-¡ m l!X5 by Flonda Srare Universiw in Sarasota; it
-r-.r,{
!!qd (i rm¡ng ^¡ .¡' ra-¡rh-i;,rl-i;tfi6¡ñ-ieElg ir ro
t q¡'¡ó. :nd_r-a5_¡:'eformed-onlEonce, rvithout rehearsal
.rl ¡dor qryr¡ror§. Recenrlr', I'srt*liTñonstriiiio-ñ of
--+,? iiii! t'T Laprorv irom rhe same vinrage, in a New
f-d g¡IErr- Cellcd §o:p. it consisted of a bucket of warer
.d e q, lczning againsr the s'all, rvith these instructions:
T'd sdr imp and s'arer. and subsequently dry, a 1 and
I : iE srp runnrng the enrire length of the floor, down
l¡,-'"-¡ ot dr gallen'.- Pinned to the wall were Polaroid
¿d¡'ó oi pcople ¡.eiorming the 'rvork, " which, of course,
rÉ mc rrrsñdad ro clean anvthing.
5o hor¡' did rve ever draw the necessary distinc-
-¡ F¡-trn ¿ilandñhar Arthur Danto'-c-il13*ñ-efe real
-+r- drrt h¿§ rllo.*ü-rt-ro-a-ceprall iheie qüirly riáneu-
ErEffi -Í-niInipio'o."ii"..suf é"ti.J;it.n.rt
E+Gr-cnt- X:prolr- maintains that there have always been
tD r¡fuúrs going on simultaneously within modernism:
'¡É:_¡rr in r¡'hrch rrr is separate from life and every-
ihg c*. ¡nd 'lifehke- an (in s'hich art is connected to life
d durthrrE?F. Il-ñ; been artlike art, according ro
f¡rr- t¡r h¿s predominanrlv occupied the attention of
rus ¡oC fc¡blÉ and rha¡ is seen as the most serious part of
¡fi3 ,*',n*ur-rn §'esrern arr-historical tradition. This art
-r.g.,c n:r dúIogue u-rth orher arr, and is supported by gal-
le-=. :'¡sso¡trs and professional an journals, all of whom,
hr r¡¡r tr¿rj-¡yf¿-<t-. ul:OSe art is a¡like.
ksucs ahout s hether qr no! something is art havq
tru rr¡r: ot drc o"goi@Bui-
á. -cdr- rr¡ócon- rhe merging of art and life, has never
:r¡L¡¡:al r¡ro rhe fremervork of aestherics, and was often
lc=LrnJ t"r rr¡orc -srrious- arrists of, sav, rhe Greenbergian
ñ-:¡s¡orr- §llkm de Xooning. for instance, once told John
C:se
=.:: ¡rt,¡rr¡nlr purring a frame around bread crumbs
o:r .: :.:5le .-¡nnor he considered an artistic act. (The com-

1 .1-
 ment was probably aimed at Danicl Spoerri's tablc tops, on
which were laminated the remains of nreels clten by artists.)
Despitc these alternatives to thet more formal, institutional-
ized art history bascd on norions of cluality and historicel
signi6cance-the "style wars" that Danto declares have come
to an end-they have never been focused in a proper per-
spective. According to Kaprow, no fra¡nework cxistcd wirlr
enough authority to create a truly alternative context to the
hegemony of stylistic aesrhetics, with all of its patriarchal
connotations.
"The philosophical sense of what rvas happening
was unclear to most of us," Kaprow states, "and the impres-
sion left was of'novclty' rxthcr rhan of a shift to a iadicallv
different world-vieillÍi wñiclr reaiity u,as a 'se¿mless fa b'-
ric'":
There wcre writings and manifcstos, of course [by Gcorge
Brecht, John Cage, Robcrt Frliiou, Dick Higgins, Mrchael
Kirby, Clacs Oldenburg, mysclf and othersl, but they
were neithcr colrcsivc n«rr always carricd out in practicc.
It would havc bccn too tall an order. Even if artists
il.ltuited wha¡ had to bc done, the prospcct of a clean
break fronr evcrything in thc high-arr u.orld was not only
frightcning but unclear in rncthod. . . - Wc were so green
then. lWc couldn't bypass the frlming deviccs, percep-
tual clichés, a¡rd values of tradition¿l iVlodern art. . . .
We were always obliged to put on a s/.,olu. {-ll thctra-
drtio its of
usual hour or so of attention aftcr rlinner . . . werc brought
to the ncw situation intact. . . but with one foot in straight
art and one foot in lifc, it was self-canceling.

The qucstion that scems up for tl.r< 1990s, and

wbich the advent of posthistorical art raises, is is whcthcr the
clean iñ-the I 960s is now
either inrminent or evcn possible. Obviously, one does not
set out to construct a new framework out of the bluc, or just
for rnc
ror the saKe of oorng
sake or so. The
doing so. r ne necd ls,g§!!gl!4!l_q[§
ncco is being thrust on us wlrn
with
c<-rmpelling force as a resuli-oiTE-ó wá[ that our cu]t-üñT-
:r,¡qelüi9E1;--g{.r§6 n gly comp I icii wi
l
-'i r.aj -, .l
'fu LO
'5 --¿ litr,firoi r ' l. i l
on {,[
 :r-.-. I :hink rl'her Kaprorv is saying is thar even though
- .' :-: .:. h.rve tricd for a long time to n,ork outside the
- -- ' ' ::.:l " fi¡-m.--.\*iil-.so ni eTülse- rh-iv--iéñ-a ñ-e-d (and still
r

-,- : - ::lillTi<llTre receivecl ideology of eesthetics. Despite

--: ':-: ::.r: ¡hc formalist influence has ebbed, its myths,
':: - :. .r-j ri\ Ir-s continue, at a verv deep level, to perpetu-
:-: -- - ,..:. ..\'c rhink abor¡r art. tiTriting about Tim Rollins
:- : I .. :n rhc S*'iss megazine Parkett, rhe critic Dan
:- -' ' - rrlre nts: "Artis¡s working r¡,ithin muserrm-basecl
..- -__:__t ': trpc'gg_d-to want'iir CfFecC miith social change,
' - .- '- .: .'l\prre¡ions cvcn de metJ- ielevant io ah assess-
e

- :--'--.-'-.=:-.-.-¡l tu r¡fTilrrt-sl"- Flifhlv iucceiiful artists, he

: :.: -'1=r-'Lri, ,lle'cond-hend rclerionship ro socirl issr¡cs
- : - ' -: .,.,,:-k\ ()t ¿rt to special causes.
- :i ::.rr ri r clc¡rlv?<¡ nor liñe, at this poinf, is any
! -'. -:_ '- _ -- .r i,1\_¡._o-n{!y_qfs§gbCsqliy g.ound"á
.-t--.- -- --.:: r\ ¡ccountable to the larger whole, in the
: - j - Jrrc\rulrllv rooted in a Iiving connection with
-: ::.rnrc ticld. And I rvould submit tlrat we can't
r , 'r J!,nr ¡s long es rve remain hooked on the
r ---, ::r-.1ii\ it,\'_¡nd rhe inhcrent purDoselessness of
:- _ - .- . '\.'-\\ lri;h .rcquiesces willingly in rhc vnh¡e
-, - , - '- -: ..-::a¡ :rrr scparate from any social, mOral or
:-- -- - -: '::: : ..1n'r h¡r.e such a concept as long as our
:.: -:: : ::.:r:,,rrc\ "good art" follows the patriarchal
-- ".-----:: :.lkc social t;rsks.
',n
I::- .,,.rr c..pcci:rllv epparcnr at a panel discus-
- . - :.'r:ir.rn.ltctl ilurinq 1939 ar rhe Colleee Art
- ., : - - - ::-::.t. ;rec:inq. u.hich took placc in San Fran-
. - j: .,..r. "Th. \f ,rr.tl lm¡cr.rrlre ur Art," and
.-

-' .-: : -: i i i:. .: ;,,rñ.:ñliil¡r, ,n-itref¡ncli.rs

lmvself
:. '- '. - :.1.:..t.: it.r.l no nror.tl impr.rltive-therc
- - ' - ' : . --:-r :.,r.¡lri¡l c¡i llte ¡rti:r. "l don't believc
--t -,._^',,:.t .1.:. ' .i.trrtl
rhc lirsr speakcr,
: :.._- "-_,..--.. t:. ,t.., mor.rl ¡rti\ts. Wc
ii¡dge
: ' -- - -' ::::.r:: i,,,,¡i. \\'r, rrortlcl be sur-
- - :r-i j.-:.. - : :i. n]or¡l imperntive of
 plurnbing." (§las she cquating art witl.r plumbing?) "For nre,"
she concluded, "morality is a judgment that serves no aes-
thetic purpose.
Arrotlrcr spcakcr ()n thc p¡ncl, rrtist Johr lJilldcs-
sari, said he was getting quite paralyzcd in front of the qucs-
tion of what the "riglrt" ¡rt is thrt onc should bc doing. Art,
he said, is doing what c¡ne docs best, using all the strengths
one has: that is noral purpose. lt is pcrfcctly truc tlt.lt nroral
purpose falls outsidc th" i.op. ;lñ"¡.* ,,¡.tlictii.riusl as
' irréIy m ii falls ou-lsrdc t6ls.ópJof-scrcñnfri,*,Ii"@gy-
, both are mute about responsibility, árirl ¡?tists tod.ry are not
; provided with any sense of the social or moral importance of

\their role. The Polish scierrtist Joseph Rotblat, who was part
o-f-[he Los Alamos Manhattan Project,'which invented the
atom bomb during the 1940s, has described in the English
m-agaa nc Il c s u r I c n cf I c t-r t s c i e n c e
-were a mrnonty-.rn the !gg::' I tt "fr_y¡!-a5o-c Iahe r I

malorlty,
qclentrhc communtty.
-
he states, were quite'coñi6ñi-ió-Mv-E it to others to decide
how their work would be used. lt is also true that moral
motivation is not what underlies activity that is considcred
appropriate in tl.rc art world, such as scnding out slides and
promoting one's work in various ways. Strategic, not moral,
choice governs thcse actions. The problcm is that whencver
this consensually validated, self-interestcd motivation is
actually overriddcn, as in some of the cxanrples I have bcen
discussing, by motivations that are morally rathcr th¿n stra-
tcgically oricnted, thcn thc work's credcntials as ert tend to
be called into question. In 1969, thc sanrc ycirr that he poured
a truckload of asphalt down thc side of a hill, Robert Smith-
son was prevented from dropping broken glass on an island
in Vancouver by environmcntalists feariul that it would harm
ihe birdlife of that area. "The ecology thing," S¡qithsp!-si¡ted
ica I

Hcizer,
-
*hoie s.utpt uie Double wrgo-r,* i,, tñ;Ñcvada descrt con-
/ sists of two enormous cuts in the dcsert floor that displaced
| 249,000 tons of eerth, once said, "l don't care about land-
\ scape. I'm a sculptor. l{eal estate is dirt, and dirt is matcrial."
\'
li
I.
; t" t' )i+o'- \
$t-,1t
I ri '. '
----. B<rng an -earth" artist does not automatically imply ecolog-/'
x:¡l cons<'iousness.
-J
.\fuch of our present practice is blind or counter-
¡rodu.-dve becausé it rests on assumptions that make us
¡ülosophical and ethical cripples. The dominant modes of
+-rtng condirion us ro think of art as specialized obiects,
sred nor ior moral or practical reasons, but to be contem-
@si[E ofTornial pieisure. Auton-
q. bor eseffiiál impbtence. The
F;-t of l hether or not art will ever change the world is
u ¡ rdcr-¡n¡ question anymore: the world is changing
*c¡dr- m rnescapable rvays. rüe can no longer deny the evi-
t¡r- ¡¡ h¡nd. The need to transform the esocentric vision
¡- r crx:-oried in our entire world vieÍ-ili-h? crucál task ''"
k ¡¡s ¡}r:d for our culture. The issue is whether art will
ü¡ óe c-.asron and make itself useful to all that is going
f
To i'ecomejrrsef¡/lagain: the very word indicates
. cF¡t¡? rn'ersal otTEliong process by which aesthetics
&dql.d en oh¡e,.-nvin of its orvn, became formalized and
mclf from basic moral and practical considerations.
-Edry
fh ren oí -me3ningless rvork" is a slap in the face
J&la ku- §e rma¡une thet to play a useful role would
' -t ¡ rrxrl. no longer a valuable end in itself. "ln
¡L -úc --'ttiT
&¡nrr ot'an for an's sakel did indeed perform
rh¡da- sncs Fl¡¡¡s Ha¡cke. in his essay "Museum,
th¡rsc r-cs.ursss-
EE üér. ac .mes-- !n counmes g'here artists are
:"i-ñi[cij :o st-- c ;:c.s--:rboJ p'olicies, it still has
' ad! :rg- T':< Go.:.ei of ¡n for arr's sake
- -ñE'¡:r¡
E: z{ 3¡rq-;13¡¿5 ::: tli-:u iliciencr', as if art
-¿t<
bd or trT.:.¡t j :-:lcs ri:--i :rr rmpen ious to the social
ErEÍmF-.- l. iic:r'ls o::he ,.]o.-trine belieye thar art
üs:rt ¡:ui ¡.1,r -: J n,.'t :eflec¡ rhe squahhles of the day.
Ch¡ccl¡ :-:¡<-. ::¿:ntst:ken in rheir assumption that
Et§ú= r-rr .-ocsirousñess can be created in isolation.
For: Xonq rime \r'e have assumed that the truth
¡- sÉ:&s :-1 --on¡ er rr ould be compromised by any pragmaric

1,41
 end. As it has turned out, thc very opposite is the case: i¡.r the
name of radical ¡utonomy, it is the pure and disintcrestcd art
work that can be most readily harncssed into the social pro-
ccss, and lends itsclf to easy coopt:rtion by thc cconomic
apparatus, Wc could even say th¡t thc nrore the concept of
aesthetics becomes emasculated (disenfranchiscd from any
social rolc), the more it is opcn to just such idcological
manipulation and repackaging-whereas art that is ,ro¡
autonornous, not cut off or "uncouplcd" frorn life-world
contexts, actually presents structural characteristics that are
rcsistant to capitalist imperarives.
kind of art.

h
e,..-w
awav from the creatiorl
the
aoncrete socialLrq-,t§, that
tasks rn3r-!g§g oqrng-rnart rs
is ro §ay, rowaro
to say. toward
ping of culture itself. And although Kaprow's
ithinking is along sirnilar lincs, it needs to bc siid that this
action of "caring for thc whole and taking it to lreart" is
more purposeful, and goes beyond the earlier cfforts of " pro-
.€s'.'l j_ry-!.g jjr.iLlgrsg.lh:d-g.,:tyl.*r,tpcr¡dig,,I,.by:le.jDsiLe
life.
Seveñltiñ¿aduring 1986 and 1987, the Brazil-
ian artist, musician and poet Bené Fontcles did a pcrfor-
mance work in the main square of Cuiabá, the capital of the
wcstern Brazilian state of Mato Crosso on the border of Bolivia
and the Amazon. Hc returned to the pcoplc of Cuiabá the
garbage and litter they had lcft bchind in the forest, creeks
and waterfalls during thcir wcckcnd picnics. Together with
other artist friends, Fontelcs is the foundcr of the Mato Grosso
Ecological Socicty, whose primary goal is to transform the
wilderness area just outside of Cui¡bá into a nature preserve.
As previous chapters havc mainteined, art that deals with life
is hardly new, but what is at stake fo-r qrtists like Dornrniquc
.--Mazg3t,d an-d Bené Fonteles is to aeai *iili tife l. aleram.
iAl_fray, with a sense of purpose that lives'in the larger pic-
aTEfi áifdr-¡, r i rc s- I iiñ qññ-rñp1yv ch-rñlf ñi
na I yst
Itwrites Ju-ntirn

r42
1:mes HiIJman, "do"t t',p-t-¡sl.for- belief..It asks for noticing,
.r::entiqn. rrppreciaiion, "nd care." What makes Mazeaud's
'.rork difierent from, say, Friencls of the Eerth organizing col-
:::ron points for rvaste paper, according to the London art-,
1i: l.rnres \lrrrrott, is the fact that her action has-a--spiritu al I
:: ,\'r-ll ils a utilitarian function, and the comt¡ination is cru- I .
::.: . R.risrrlEáGf[TIiE6ñ-to the level of the spiritual (thus \
-:i.rl: rr resonant and catalytic) is precisely what is so dif-
i: - :. \1.rzc¡ud, for instance, is perfectly awa(e that she can't
- --:- .:r :he rivcr by herself, brtt since her main motive is
-: -:-.:. .:nd not narrorvly utilitarian, her ectivity is also
- - - ::-ri h.ich.is.lvhat.keeps. it in the realm of-a-rt. Uncel
-- ..::: ,.r!,,." she states, "l re-did a section in a very fre-
--:--- j :.r:: oí a park, and there was as much garbage as ]

r -: :.. So it's more the rittralistic aspect of doing

-- - ,::.lilt, 5
-:
lL::hin the frameu'ork of art as it is currently
. - : .- -' ,: .: rJ pncticecl, the pedigree of work that is ori-
.::.i :onrpassionate action is always somewhat sus-
'i.',.: heceuse its potcntial for yielding an income is
: ::-i.r:!-s fcs' opportunities for the prevailing busi-
-. .r'¡.1 ¡¡¡,1r', in ¡ cultural climate whe re radical
- :. i-ren rhe huilt-in assr.lmption of artistic prac-
-:. :o Fropose a shift in the artist's role from
.- :-i :r;rerl. .rch ieve men t-orie nted professional to
. '-.1¡ oi ..r cultural arvakener or healer is to
' : : ::( .riiu.IiIlñ6Jñ'iiñIin]TñloiT'iñEd-
--. ::--':11 :-.:ni ¡o save \\'estern culttrre from itself.
- .: -*. :::r.irkr. "l strppose that the process of
- .', j : :,i\ c .r he¡ling or transformative effect
i .- .i::ri:. r::::brs notion thxt art can somehow
- - -' . ¡,.:r-itn ro rhis particular time in

:-r::..¡,en¡ rrrristic strnce is one of

--:-. :: - -,-: ::<il\r' :ctlectlon."
'-":-' .:: - i:.. oi.rrr in tcrms thet \\'ould
-: : - -:: ¡< ron-.ik-¡itron ir-ou ld-be to
:l-J-:.:::;i' au.ittrc rr. il.tvc heen
- -. :.,, .,,.-.rñIf... ,*:h"iiir""-
-: -- . =i ::e .oci.ll bond-our
¡" i' - ¿¡tt'
 ,)l '- ! Ar .'
'll:1t(,
¡ ::
relation with the other-the choice to set ourselves apert has
E ]iññ;equenGs of the utmost importance. It is not a
minor choice. I have been suggesting that modern aesthetics
belongs to the Cartesian mind-body dichotomy, whose bias
toward separation has been conspicuous in the patriarchal,
industrial age.
As scientists shatter atomisric and mcchanistic
world views with empirical evidence that nothing is sclf-sus-
taining or sovcreign, perhaps the time has corne, as Levin
suggests in Tbe Opening of V ision,_!9]esagnize-t-ht-xrc§-
sllrn_!!_¡llgdelryly. Perhaps the heroic ego of modernity needs
-to bc reconceptualized, within a total-systenls contcxt, as an
interactive process based on the interconnectedness of self
and world, rather than on the solitary monad. "ln tlre rvreck-
age of its aftermath," Levin states, "a world 4r buqUlgr, far
less grand and self-assurcd, begins to cmcrgE" As artists learn
-to intelrateTñ-eii oüññ-e?ds-lñtrtaleñrs with the nectls of
others, the enviroor¡lelt- 4nd the community, a !e-w founda-
tion for a ( 'gefa
ious individualisnr m¿y'émi'rgeland
ave, not n art, pcrhaps, but ut bet
better
values, aims, bcliefs. But the ego must pass rhrough its death
6rst, as Levin points out, before it can be reborn in this other
vision of community and intersubjective coexistencc; and the
"ego" in question is not just the individual ego, it is the social
and historical cgo as wcll, whose thinking is still under the
spell of narcissism as a model for the self 's development.
As we begin to search for thc blueprint thet is
hidden away in our owr.r work, we shall nccd to dccidc whethcr
or not it answers the call. And what is thc call? To quotc rny
friend Caroline Casey, it is that "nothing which is not socially
or ecologically rcsponsible make it out of this dccade alive. "
It would seem that moving away from the cornpctitive modes
of institutionalized aesthetics is one way of not perpetuating
the dominator system: forgoing its rites of production and
consumption as a model for making art, its mythology of
professionalism and its power archctype of success. Only then
can we begin to evolve a new set of ground rules for the
futu re. from a value-free to a value-based

1,44
Kaprow puts it: "Lifelike art irl which nothing is separate is
a training in letting go of the separate self. . . . It is even
oossible ihn, ro..iifilike art could become a dilffine-óf
lt
tionally ( it will),
we may see the overall meaning of art change profoundly-
from being an end to being a means, from holding out a
promlse o on ln some ñalñi-to
lvlng meanlnglully ln

145
 ro
""n&
Tn¡, Drerocrc PensprcrlvE
Dismantling Cartesianism

Wbat strip mining is to ndture the art fiarket

bas become to culture.
Robert Hugbes

Nothing exists oatside tbe nurketplace.

Barbara Kruger

It is' time-indeed ,recessary-to restore tbe

moral dimension of uthat we so coldly d.enote
*the
as eanomy,' atd ?norc to the point, to
ask uhat a truly moral economy is. , . . lf we
rely on self-interest .and economic ?rrotiues to
anke the populat response tbat utill deal with
these ouerarcbing problems, we will be rely-
ing on the uery constellation of psychological
factors that baue so deckiuely antibuted to
their emergence.
Munay Bookcbin

746
 .1 /

R...ntlu I read somewhe rc that 1,27 dollars will

bang one a vear's subscription to the N¿,{., York City Art
Giicn' Price \\'atcb, a journal that informs readers of the
¡rE¡s 5e¡ns esked bv Nerv York galleries, whose work is
rrflme ¡nd s'hose isn't, which artists are getting the best
tÉrn! end s'hich rvorks are likely to increase in value. Last
¡ong I raerr ro the tenth annual Chicago Art Fair, held at
litrr h.r. r¡'hich is certainlv one of those places for testing
rlorc crdenn¡ls are in order by seeing whose achievements
lql drsplaved. Since I n writing this book by pos-
- úÉ of rvhái artlst
-tr:-i,=r.----
m drc r¡ y.,-r _d q9'-d
{l_!99!_e.9-[ e ullh
llpro-
@' ¡ Fp rorrAllrgn a ti á-rbrs¡¡Gi.
f.-----Ecre
r¡rs rhe reign of quantity, hugeness, excess.
flc - i¡¡r rs ¡ rlf-enclosed. self-reflexive totality in which
tr F-ñ. ¡.rdrcu¡ anv need of justification, and without the
a- wons oi values or purpose. Any art there that is,
h ¡ ¡¡r- q.s-ril¡ 6¡ environmentally concerned, is inevita-
atÉd dt ¡r¡d r,-r>ñscÍed ro the ends of economic individ-
üforc has al5'aqbeen to maximize pro6t and
Di nerkets. never to seiie soEial ends. Vith
t-. rtq*: ¿s cenrral shrine and s' óf our culture,
*.-U+¡c lwcr-¡t{¡cr relarionship has reality; there is no
¡¡-'-l milicu. no audience to speak of. It is all
L ró¡r&¡l .¡¡us¡s. rndividual careers and individual
cl**b ¡1 üq,kr-rhc kind of 'pans thinking" thar val-
r * o§.cr; ¡ttiL rgnonng the context, or 6eld, around
b. Tb i¡¡s twr the sociallv conditioned form of
¡G mrr h¡r-C r-¡rh art- El.en rime rve plaCe art
---r¡¡¡
¡¡ ¡L o'¡,''r <i drc rurteq.lace. rr'e give life to that idea
! t l:*ffii pát=rdrr on. Ir represents a cultural impera-
EB ú rird s-§!-cs§ !5 rnc¡su:ed hv income, consumption
-d k ñi :t¡=c!: .on:en: r¡ rrrelevant because the market is
ác mr::e- iinrns rhe purpose and determining the
--*-! =:":--o:::¡ rhet rhings aren'r getting better in the ¡rt
ol r'o:k. The scene could easily cause anyone to
üriaL
¡sid- -.:: r¡:her ¡h¡r thev are getting worse. Perhaps we
ér¡-:li =:rl oi ¡r rn rerms of s'hat cultural historian rVilliam
I:'r¡':: T':o:¡:ron c¡lls the "sunset effeEf=iEáffil-ihe

t47 (t)Ntrl ,|t,1

intcnsification of a phenomenon that does not lead to irs con-
tinuation but to its vanishing. When the pressures for trans-
formation intensify, they can sometimcs propel the systern
into bankruptcy unless the situatio¡r is reconceptualized and
rcn.rappcd.
Persons who grow up in any socicty rre cultur-
ally "hypnotized" to perceive reality rhe way rhe culturc
experiences it. Acculturation, according to soci¡l scientist Willis
Harm¡n in his book G lobal Mind Change, works exactly
like hypnosis. Tl.ris trance of consensus programs much of
our behavior. The challengc of the next few decades rvill be
to awaken from this hypnosis; as Harman states, the real
action today is changing fundantental dssut?xptiotts, so that
we can learn to transccnd our culture. Once we becomc truly
cor.rscious of how we lrave been conditioned to follow i¡ cer-
tain program, we can begin to surrender some of our cul-
ture's distorted images and role nrodcls for success. The
possibility then arises for modifying tl.re framework and not
just being immersed in it.
'We
have been conditioned for a long tirne ro accepr
the idea of art's self-sufficiency and ro see the aesrhetic as a
spccial sphere removed from social use. We could call this
the hyperindividualized arrd depoliticized vicw of arr, whosc
"frcedom," we now know, is esscntially bound up with the
premises of a commodity economy. Whcn Hcrbcrt Marcuse
argucd, in his littlc book The Aesthetic Dinrcnsion, that by
renrovir.rg itself (rom social praxis and assurning a pure sig-
nificance of its own, art could step outside the rrctwork of
exchange relationships and values, he actually believed that
autonomy would keep it from pcrforming the ideological
function of glorifying the existing sysrem's conditions and
goals. The truth slowly being recognized today is rhat we
cannot look at art solely in aesthetic terms. We now know,
thanks to deconstruction, that a work of art ís ncuer pure,
ntxl rutononrous. _lndircctly, e bclic f
Underlying ¡he ethos of redic¡l
autonomy, for instance, is the met:rphor of the market. Aes-
thetic philosophies such as those of Greenberg or Marcuse
only obtain if we ignore the whole question of context. A

148
 ..... 1,: ,l I,
i/
museum wall or'a gallery room is not a neutral zone, a dis-
inrerested container-a relationship is occurring that influ-
ences most strongly how rhe meaning will be received. The
idea of rhe picture, the way it is hung, the gallery space itself
.rre all an inrensi6ed form of coding, constituting what Brian
O'Doherty, in his important group of essays collectively enti-
tled lnside the White Cube, reÍers to xs thg_:'rechnology of
¡ e irh eti-cs " : á:ñlii té, él éa n, iit i fi cta l s p a ce rh;t-;;f,rTar-ilii sr
in a kiild of eternity of display, isolated from everything that
sould detract from its own evaluarion of itself as art. The
outside world must not come in. More than any single pic-
ture, according to O'Doherty, the gallery as "frame" may be
rhe archetypal image of twentieth-century art. O'Doherty
rvrites:

During modernism, the gallery space was not perceived

as much of a problem. . . . The artist was not aware he
rvas accepting anything except a relationship with a
dealer. . . . IBut] the wall is our assumprions. It is imper-
arive for every artisl to know this content and what it
does to his / her work. . . . For better or worse it is the
single major convention through which art is passed-
What keeps it s¡able is the lack óf altern atives. éenuine )
ntt!!.!g!yg rtlrllll-Spltq fro» tl¡is st¡acc.lmy itelicsl )

There is no question but that the achievements of

3n aesthetic, decontextualized approach to art in the twen-
rierh century have been profound, and it would be foolish to
presume that everyone will want to abandon "pure" aesthet-
i cs in lavor-ofu-¡swr_more p a rricipxroly_p a ra d i gm that i nre-

qrares responsive dr a l_ogurend-com pa ssiona te action. But ir p ü'

l/,
is also iñirée§lnglfbbvious that whar wes once a liberering
no¡ion for the artist-art for art's sake-has become a self-
J.-lq"q@e¡¡i-es !,qf q ¡1
rs; rs a guiding myth, it cannot sr¡ggesr terms for an alter-
:r.r¡ive, and possibly transformative, practice. lWithin the aes-
:ienc mode, the ertisr has no sociel role or politicnl function.
'-1=---------=:
t:e ts\L¡e nos ls wtref tlcr modernrst eesthettcs needs to be I

:¡=rlemented by a new aesthetics of participation that is i

I

149
 Icss spccialized, irncl that dcals more adet¡uatcly with issucs
of contcxt; and w\:thcr a ficw .l¿frttiti(»t of art's cultural
purposc yggrslrE!_llclg ogrlelyes) up to rDore g.1e¿qjve
in tcr,rct io@th¡rthsr¡,EJ¡lrrir-rhcuod,l..
Norrrrally. in rhc acsthctic nrotlc, our irnlgcs lor
boundary arc static: a wall or a fr¡me doesn't rllow ior sir-
uationally flexible i¡rterfaccs with thc audiencc. lndeed, rhe
whole function of the gallery, as has already been discussed,
is to isolate the work by "framing" it so that r.rothing fron.r
the outside world will intrude. "Artlikc art," Allan Kiproru
states in "The Rcal Experiment," "sends its nlessage on a
one-way street, from the artist to us. . . . You can't'talk back'
to, and thus change, an art¡ike artwork, but 'conversation' is
the very mcans of lifelike art, which is always changiñg. "-TIie
r.r.ronologic perspcctive, as wc havc seen, is individualistic, eli-
tist and entisocial-the vcry anrirhesis of social or political
pr.rctice. In a scnsc, the cssence «rI nrodcrrr aestlletics can bc
surnmed up in this singlc, primary fearure of rejecting tlia-
logue and interdction. "Virh the obiecrs of modcrn pictures
no intercourse is possiblc, " Ortega y Gasser wrr¡tc in "The
Dchumanization of Art." "By divcsting thern of their aspcct
of 'live' realiry, thc artist has blown up the bridges ar.rd burncd
the ships that could have taken us back to our daily world.
... This new way of life which presupposes rhc:rnnul¡nent
of spontaneous lifc is precisely wher we call undcrstan«ling
and enioyrncnt of art."
tverybody secms ro accept rhis, evcn rhough ir is
old physics. Now, ncarly seventy-five years after the wriring
of Ortega's essay, perhaps we can dare to consider what thc
characteristics of a participatory ¡rrrist using a parricipatory
approach might be. In a relational, or rotal-field model, all
pieccs of the picture are includcd; integrity is not just the
integrity of self, but its crnbeddcdness in rhc lrrger whole.
'Whcreas
the strugglc of nlodernis¡n wa; to dclirrcate self fronr
othcr, in the emárging reelm of qr"ñfi;il;;-p;;bility, the
world beconres a place of interaction and connection, and
things derivc their being b¡ nru¡ull dcpcndL.nc_e. \)Uhen every-
thing is perceived as dynamically irerconnectc,l, art nceds
to collaborate with the environmcnt and a new sense of rcla-

t. ,\-.
I \', ilq¡;ilt'lÜ" \:i. 150.r,: \
l,,r;\,
I
)
 Donship causes rhe old polarity between art and audience tol
.'t'sprrear. The essence of nonduality is what Vietnamese Zenl
m¿s¡er Thich Nhat Hanh calls "rerlizing the nature ofl
mrrbiing. - The perception of ourselves as isolated individ-l
"-1.. fifr¡¡¿¡6d by an economic ideal, meeting not in com-
osr¡l relanonships but in competitive struggles for personal
grrn'¡l and success, conducting our business in art fairs, leaves
ur ü-prepared tor realizing the nature of interbeing.
-The monologic view," writes Nancy Fraser in
Cryzi¡ Prsaices, 'is the Romantic individualist view in which
- - - ¡ soi¡¡¡n' voice [is] crying out into th'e night against an
':nifierentieted background." Certainly this sense of
brng
-l¡ rsor:red and alone with one's creations-that there's
D (r o<:i ¡here and one's work isn't receiving the attention
- &<:-¡ c!-{s ¡ common experience for many artists in our
rdtr á:n essenrial and constitutive. "The only conceivable
r¡Fos. :o ;hrs voice," Fraser continues, "is uncomprehend-
i rgooo or rdenri6catorv imitation. There is no room for
e ryfo *ut could qualifv as a different voice. There is no
E ir ¡n¡cr¡cnon. -
I¡ scems clear that art oriented toward dynamic
FDoFect r¡¡her than toward passive, anonymous spec-
¡ .<ff ¡:11 lrave to deal rvith living contexts; and that once
of the ¡1round, or setting, is actively cultivated,
-.ErEEe
t -*-- rs no longer separate. Then meaning is no longer
i lc otrc=r <r. nor in the observed, but in the relationship,
b ác tro. Inreracdon is the key that moves art beyoñdl
ft '.+-{ rnorJe: lening the audience intersect with, andl
a ir¡ part or. dr process, recognizing that when observerl
rl &t:rcl =rrg:e. the vision of static autonomy is under-\I
-c¿ Ii tiu;
m¡e. rvhet. rhen, can rve say about paint-
rs
¡í ¡nr. does it hold in the context of a new
-EfD+eI
--$¡.¡iuurr-¡.aredrerni ls rr a hopelesslv Cartesian- con-
ErEúD- e rrep rher rs urgentls out-of-daie, because it is
crcrmrncd srrh the conditions of individualism
¡od oass--s¡¡ i Or. ro pur r¡ another rvav, horv is the
si:t J.(x=i ¡r:¡.s r¡ho ,lesires ro function effecdvely

t-íl
 and rcsponsibly irs p:rrt of irn integratcd whole to do so, givcn
the intense pressures of the art world for competitivc
achievement, salable obiects ind matcrial success? "Most
artists have political and social convictions," states H¡¡rs
Haacke in an intcrview with Catherine Lord, "but thcse ofrcu
do not transpirc in their work. Thc more you become aware
of this almost schizophrenic separetion, which is rrormally
not perccivcd as such, thc morc you havc to dc¿l with rl¡is
problem."
Bcfore I knew hcr, my teaching collcague from
Santa Barbara, Ciel Bcrgrnan (also know¡r as Cheryl Borv-
ers), painted voids. Her paintings consisted oI cmpty lields of
ochre, which she thought of as descrts, arid places. At a cer-
tain point it occurred to l.rer that thcy were images of spiri-
tual deprivation, of the inebility to manifest a fully crcarive
response to bcing alive. After a visit she madc to thc South-
west, waterholes began to appear in thcse ochre ficlds. L.vcn-
tually, glinrpses of occan and sky appcarcd.
Slowly, as awareness of crur culture's self-
dcstructive course began to dewn on her, Bcrgnran rcalized
that a change of attitude "so rcvoluti<¡nlry'being and uncornpro-
inising that
[nrslng it may be bcyond us" was berng dcmanded-
thri rt dcmanded.
iQuestions bcgan to forrn ir.r her mind as to how tlre vicious
fcircle of our destructive patterns could be broken. "ln a time
lwhen science is not providing the answers we had hoped it
) lw99ld, what c-r-n art do?_{!_qt ggn-artists clc¡?- she asked.
."What is my róló-a5'an :rr¡il;alrlier-or-illfñáÍE-eto do
with painting? "---=---.--
------* -{hc vcry posing of thcsc qucstions significd to
Bergman her owr.r radical shift, as an artist, away from thc
phenorncnon of "psychological distancing" and into the par-
ad ig m of te co n nil-tcün¡E s s'.-Sht-b c g r n o e x p e r c n cc
u It in ra r i

thc need to move beyond painting Js r or)e-wily, passir e

mcdium, and to investigatc possible situations in which artisr
and audience would be equally involvcd in investigating the
'problems
of the world together. "Years ago," she states, "l
could not have told you why, but now I can say I paint thc
ocean bccause I feel it is sacrcd. k is the source of all life on
the planct, a vital organ of Caia's bcing. J. E. Lovelock, author

t52
of the Gaia hypothesis, has written: 'lndeed, no one knows
n'hat risks we run when we disturb this key area of the bio-
sphere.' For years we have been dumping everything imag-
fonble into the ocean. tüe don't have any idea of the risk we
¡rc Eking. If she dies, we die."
Bergman's more _recent paintings-,jdle-ctively titled
JtU kc¡ed, ñdiafe hopé éven ih-iléihéy_confront the-dxrk-
E rnd her own grief ai the wounding of the earth. Follow-
i3 ryon an earliei series of watercolors on th;iñ'eme of the
c. shich included images of roses with death in their pet-
* iom radiation, she has moved more recently to the sym-
udv charged image of the iris, which exists not only as
¡ b,rr. but also represents, in mythology, a 6gure symbol-
-- dc4 feminine wisdom-the goddess of the rainbow,
- Lid3r
a.f
betrveen heaven and earth. Symbolizing the pres-
üc Black Madonna (the dark feminine), the iris her-
¡ rt+carance of the anirfia tfiundi-the submerged soul
dt ul4Jooming like an avenging angel amid the debris
dr ¡ud¡cd and degraded natural environment. For Berg-
i i ¡ numinous message of life and hope, the move
b-¡pim.
-, balance and the power of the feminine prin-
riL
- -c ÚÉ- an invitation
wrr opposite of apocalyptic vision.
aiiived in 1987 ¡o.r"rt"
úo or some sort at the Contemporary Arts Forum ^i-t in
b f¡üen Bergman decided to use the occasion to clean
{, - Sú Barbara beaches. She and her collaborator,
li¡Er' Iterrill, spent three hours a day for five weeks
-lF
¡l¡- q ¿Il thc nonbiodegradable plastic they could find,
Jb brwEht it into the gallery. Most of the plastic was
l- ¡¡- üc ceiling crearing a contemporary Merzbau of,
Tbc fccling inside the room was that of a temple,
-. nüales and seagulls drifring through
bt
--oatcocr'\ On rhc south wall, Bergman painted a
I¡ú d.-¡qc- ¡ riü snpost of gnef, in which there were
!E qErE om drc sca and skv. Thc trash objects on
ü b Er curd in flour, u'hich created a haunting,
p ndczq{oxn ¡mroephere, and in the center of the
rysa r:!r ¡ Grcfrt of ¡shcs. s-hich funcrioned as a circular

r i.l
 prayer altar, in thc rnanncr of a Native Anrcrican medicine
wheel. Near the altar, fresh flowers wcre placed in vases and
changed daily. Since the room was dirnly lit, it took a while
before people realizcd tl.rat wl.rat thcy wcre looking at was
not art, but garbage.
Visitors to the gallery were invited to u,rirc down
their fears for the rvorld on one of thc remaining walls and
their hopcs on thc orlrer. A collcction of sticks thit had becn
picked up fror.n tl.re beach werc left in a pile, along witl.r othcr
natural materials and sonlc ricc papcr, with a further invira-
tion to the audience ro makc praycr sricks. By the end of the
exhibition, both walls had been covered with writing, and
ncarly four hundrcd pcople had wrimcu ¿ praycr, hop" <.,.
thought and attached it to a stick, which they decoratej and'
placed in a ring around the ashpit. Some people stayed for a
long time, reports Bergman, and a few of the sricks were so
bcautiful that she found it difficult to part with them at thc
end. IJut since they had been inrended as an offering, irll were
linally retumed to the t¡cean in a special ce.erno,ry ¿fter tl.re
exhibition.
Instead of an opening, the artists [¿[rl r "elos-
ing," in the for¡n of rr public dcbitc,rl¡our whrr to .'lo wirh
all the plastic,-which-nbw 6llcd up six dLrrnpstcis. Sonrc of
the suggestions wcre: lreap the plásríc in lrónt of gioccry storcs,
asking that businesses and patrons bcgin to break the plastic
habit; be brave and talk to peoplc in the act of lirtcring; sup-
port an annual beach clean-up day; scnd photos of the exhi-
bition to board members of plastic manufacturing companies;
tell stores you won't buy anything packagcd in plastic; and
take the exhibition elsewhere as a powerful tool to be used
agair.r. So far, Bcrgman has nor done this, bur like thc projccrs
of John Malpede, fim l{ollins and Suzannc Lacy discussed
earlier, she l.ras neverthelcss produced a working nlodel with
Sea Full of Clouds, W hat Can I Doi that offers the possibil-
iry of repeated applications in othcr conrexts, and hai already
had offers to clean up Chicago and Dctroit.
In 1985, the U.S. alone produced over one rril-
lion cubic inches of plastic that docs not easily decompose.
An autopsy on a twelve-pound sca turtle, who crawled onto

154

-J
: -.j:-.-rn l-lonolulLl and died, revealed threc pounds of plas-
: - - ::. inrcstincs that includecl beads, a comb, a golf tee, a
' .,.::el. ..r piccc of rope, x brrlloon, a plastic toothpasre
-r:. r.r::r(. irn(l ¡ plistic florver. Although most of the plas-
- - - ;::-t:].1n s instell¡tion camc from ocean clumping, the
-:: -' : :rc * holc erpcricnce on dre local community rvls
--' :---: :r;vclrng ior certain types of plastic garbage has
- -:-- ::.irtutecl in Sirnt¡ B¡rlrara. (Currentlv in the U.S.,
- ---- ::r-:i:n: of rr¡sh is rccycledi rüTestern Europe recycles
:-i'--i. .1l']el frrpen, fift,v percent.)
-.\i-: nr¡r'not change anything," Bergmen states,'
j:'.. '.\( h.lve .rbout oursclves we projcct into the,
\.:.r:n c imrges have a way of coming alive just
: -::i.-\h.rve. If rve proiectimagesof beauty, hope,
: -:::.. sun ival, cooperation, interrelatedness,
- :: -.r:rorl and harmony, this will have a positive
:: -. .,.::.lr irrtists could do if they became commit-
". -:':-j::r good of the planet. The possibilities are
- : -:: -::: ,r. li ¡ll artists would ever pull together for
: ^::r.rnkind, it rvould be a power such as the
j- :.:,!'.\'n.
- '.1 ::':( I'oint of Balancc, tl.re multisensory
- - - .- ". ,. :< .i..11icatccl to healrng and balancing that
-- :-.: - .w¡¡. lrv Arizona ¡rtist Beth Ames Swartz
.- : - : -: : :r\ (.r\itv of Arizona Muse¡:m of Art in
- -. - :- :
--: \::ile .\rrs Nluseum in Calgary, Canada,
-: :- -.- :-..: \\()rk §itlrin the ¡esthetic mode that
- -: - :
- - . j:, ,:r'r. rhc subject-ohject separation by
- --''- -: --, -: :" jij \ ir'nse of involvemcnt. Here, too,
- -'.'- : ::-::-:r.,i .a.'rc!- Jnd herrs gcntle music, moving
- -- -- .':r .lrífcrc-nt haths of colored light rvhile
-'.-: -- -: -:.-i- .-,-:r ¡.In¡inqs oí rhe seven chakras of
--. -, ,: ::--:: -: -::.::..cn:\.1 dlff.-rcnt ch;rkra, orenergv
, -' - --:- : ..-::..:c.rl .rntl emotion¡l sell-beinc,
- - : - - .- :. H::i-u*r':r. .1n,.1 r'.r.h ch¡kra is svn.r-
:.i :,,: tl-.c irs¡ ch:rkra. at the
-: \i-r.i ,: .::r-. l,,.rl end involtrn-
-- ' - :-: .:- ,:.i ¡i-rkr.l. rn thc placc of
: -. :--:-:: ": -:r-1::,:¡r: r'r'llr¡§ [Of thC
third chakra, at tl)e solar plexus, the source of personal porver;
green for thc fourth chakra in thc place of thc heart; bluc for
the 6fth chakra at the throat, the place of cornmunication
and spccch; indigo at the sixth chekra in thc center of rhc
forchead, thc sourcc of clairvoy'alrt intuitior.r; and violet ¿r
the crown of the head, the place of opening ro the higher
realnrs. The viewcr is cncouraged to pausc at cach meditatiou
station, following a path in a kind of pilgrirnage from onc
painting to the next, An accompanying text suggests what
things to focus on in relation to one's own body while stand-
ing before each painting and absorbing the colored light related
to that chakra.
Swartz fccls that in our culturc we dt¡n't under-
stand thc mysterious quality of the cnergy flow that connccts
mind, body and spirit. Through a spccial conrputcr study done
when the work was shown in San Diego and in Aspen, where
the audicnce was invited to 6ll out response cirrds, Swartz
found that people of all ages and varying cthnic groups clairned
to have felt "cleansed, strengthened, balanccd, encrgized and
exhilarated" by their experience wirh A Mouing Point of
Balance. Many people sat, meditatcd, or even lay down iu
front of thc paintings to receive healing. Although shc has
been a student of both Native American and Far Eastern
hcaling practices, Swartz claims it was after her v-isit-to the
I{othko Chapel in Housto-t_r_ ¡tr4t.üe¡ras i¡spired to creafe a
public nrcditational clrvironnrcnt. But thcrc is errorhcr'lrrtc-
cdent for what Swartz has donc. In certain parts of tgypt,
healing tcmples were constructed to allow the sun's rays to
cntcr so that they would break up into thc seven colors of
the spectrum. Archaeologists have found evidence that peo-
ple were sent to particular roo¡ns to absorb the color they
needed. The assumption was that inrbalances in the color
harmony of the aura-thc encrgy 6eld surrounding the body-
cause illuess.
The paintings thcmselvcs relate more directly to
the metaphysical tradition in carly twentieth-ce ntury art, and
remind one easily of the rhythrnic simultaneity of Orphism.
I am thinking, in particular, of Franti§ck Kupka's series of
works the Disks of Netuton (1912), cosmic color wheels that

1,56

¿
 itii'f r
I

matrix of dynamic movement, where every-

Fpcn¡el cnergetic relationships. In Swartz's case,
r of 6old leaf, microglitter, crushed stones and
o heve healing properties creates a more
sg3csdng meteorites, stained glass win-
I iturs of the Byzantine era.
r. towycr, what makes these pictures not

fr,oo drcir audience. To'make the

qlar e¡d üvisive paradigm to a
ir- úc old schismatic and con-
mst givc way to a unifu-
iJ ¡ra¡ rr sce this coming
r rilhgrc m give up old
rr 4grirsr-in dre tearing
ffi ido imcraction and
- Morc ctrrently, the
h{ r¡irns to actnowledge
i at¡dcpcnden t and aftects
nc vct moved from the
du¡rof -lc úinting m something else.
-t rA bc
!h=zc
in dresc motivational or
rnapping into place, I believe,
k bc fully realized through a mon-
ic¡ -ra
ally come into its own in dialogue, as
in vhicñ one is obliged to listen to other
kña of Balance was recently acquired by
r lE¡thropist, who intends to install it permal
E GEnGr for the creative arts to be establisheá I
*- Sdsra, Arizona, with the proposed mission of i
t3lndiriplinary work "committed to global eco- |
hny ¡nd the spirimal evolution of humankind." I
t-c 6rst study center for environmentally commit-j
J-.
- A trEat deal of modern art was intended to be
¡Éf ic ad;cncc. But, as we have seen, there is another
r-t- Art úrat realizes irs purpose through relation-

157
ship-that collaborates consciously with the audience and is
conccrncd with how wc con¡rect with othcrs-can actuallv
create a sense of cornmunity. The idca of collaborarive
dynamics is very important in dissolving boundary differ-
ences to crcate a more pcrmeable membrane. Acting-on is
one-way; interacting with is two-way. "Art cannor be a
mo4ologue," Albort Camus wrore ir.r Rasistanic-, T-¿Dllliot¡
rrent
liir.rn üEó-has no right to so lt ls thc artlst-
vidualisn.r
is transformed into flcxible interfaces with the audience. One
of the strengths of the work of Beverly Naidus, a New York
artist now living in California, is rhar it succeeds in actually
realizirtg this interrelationship; artist and audience form a
relational dyad, so that the two parts can no longcr be defined
indcpendently. Conversation is embedded in tlre process and
becomes a practical inrperative of the work.
An early installation by Naidus, cnrir.lcd Apply
Within, was lrcr 6rst a udience-participation piece. A simu-
lated employment agency, it was installcd ir.r thc front win-
dow of Franklin Furnacc, an altcrnativc artist's spacc in Ncw
York. In the window werc signs reading: JoBs, Jous, Jons-
W[, HAVE WHAT YOU WANT-PAID VACA'TIONS, FRINGE BEN-
EFITS. People cntercd the storefront gallery, résumós in hand,
thinking it was a real employmenr agency. As thcy sat dorvn
in chairs in the waiting room, an audiotape of voiccs began
to recite clichés and stereotypes embodied irr our attitudes to
work in this society:
'We'rc so glad you came to
Voice A: us. You made
thc right choice. Wc have the pcrfcct job
foryou....
Voicc ll: 'We drcanrt about doing grcar
things.
A: So you're tircd of thc sarnc old routinc. Thc
samc ninc-to-6vc crap. Wcll, don't worry.
We understa¡rd.
'We
B: wanted to do sonrcthing productive.
A: You'rc kroking for sonrc cxcitenrcnt, sorne
fun, somc glamour, rnaybe even sonrething
mcaningful?

158
 : \\'c h¡Ll such high expectations. . . .
:. ) ,,,: .lt:,n't knorv what to do with your life?
. . . '! ou'r'e come to the rrght place. We're
:..:e ro hclp vott.
I 'tr-¡ couldn't rvait to get out of school and
j , i, 'nrethinS lmportanr.
:. \ ,r; rc looking for something creative per-
-::.i .\ iob rvlrere you can use that special
- ::t:hrng onlv you have to offer.
¡ ')i: irJn'r rr'¡nt to be another cog in the
- : -::r c.
r \.:: t,i <¡ur clicnts rre ever disappointed.
'I . :l:ce peoPle almost anvwhere.
I -L: :''r,r.-rqhr \\'e had e right to bc happy. . . .

I :: -: - S io \¡idus, the experience of listening

¡ft:-r: -j: :- :\:::lordinarv effect on people. Many of
b ry: -:- ' .\ook her hend, and began to tell her
t ár: :.--: .:::;h ior e decent job. They were thenk-
3fr i:rre--: --ir'r¡lood their dilemma and could iden-
*ñ---=r :< : i1),.rtion ¡nd humiliation. They seemed
i ¿:- :: --,: ::1r rvas "art," but didn't care. Only
-F §¡¡:r -:---:-:.- xhen she sasn't there, a woman, who
,e--
-. cci¡.:-: :'- : ,5 ¡nd rres told that she was not in
.ra cri¡trle-: :::- --. ¡'.;: in ¡n ert gallery, became angry
db. ür:.-...- : i\ri ::nponlnt for the artist to be there.
t rl-- \¡.¡;. .--:;---<. -ustrallv engages the.audience in
:r 3--:. -r - :. f :rón ro the Piece. ft addresses dif-
t-tr
-lE IE:JB :.§:É< ::-:: r: r::cle¡r r,,'ar or destruction of the
:r-l:--: -'. -:a::. consumerism! et cetera). My
¡¡¡- r .Eine: .." :'-:- ::e'¡r\'. ¡rte in rr hich the piece is exhib-
Ai "Éñrr- :- -.:-i -, -, CommUnifv Center, street Or
-t7¡r
{múúrrrg ¡':"] :-.: -. :-: ji<,lrnl:ion thrr these issues affect
--tt3 r.¡f::¡ - ' -- - r-:1..
-,t . i:= :':::-: :¡::::r:ed rvith \aidus's u'ork in
-:¡l¿- ¡:r: \-É -.-:: :- -.:: :::o:r c¡lled f/ri-. /-. .\o, ¿ T¿sl
:¡. i:¡r: :: -l'¿ i:: -: ::¿ \\'¡:li- erhibirion held et the
'.:u !l:.¡c:- -r -.--::-:*^,:::-. \- :n \e*' \'ork on the
-É-r. -i --.:::- -:- '. . --. ::-.::-::."¡mic ending are not
 time. But such visions are no longer symbolic or renrote; in
our own time, they have .be come a concrete and real possi-
bility. The destructive capability of our present storchouse of
weapons, Carl Sagan observed back in 1982, could create a
World War II cvery second for the length oÍ a lazy aftcrnoon.
One hopes that with the thawing of the Cold War, this thrcat
is now being reduced. Naidus's installation was the one work
in the entire exhibition that stood out for mc above thc oth-
ers, communicating through its very shriveled means the des-
olation of what life might bc like after a nuclerr holocaust.
Created from wood remnants, it consisted of a derclict shel-
ter with a narrow, rumpled cot inside, on which a sequencc
of slide images of beautiful landscapes was continuously pro-
jected, likc the mcnrory of a lost paradise, alternating with
f.lashes of white light. Stcpping inside the shclter, you could
l.rcar the barely audible sound of dazed voiccs (from e six-
minute tape loop) making comnrcrlts like, "But I was busy
working to a dcadline," "We felt that everything was out of
our control," "\üe didn't realize we had a choice."
This particular installation camc to life for me
because it secmed connected with a concrete intent; I had the
distinct sense of sorneone making ar¡, no¡ only for the sake
of making art, but bccausc she wanted people to see some-
thing-not colors or shapes particularly, but something that
normally wc do not see. In trVakiz.q Up irr the Nuclear Age,
psychologist Chellis Clcndinning drscusses how, due to the
secrecy surrou¡rding its developnrent, nuclear technology is
invisiblc to us. "rüc cannot see radioactive matcrials being
- transp_orted d<¡wn our highweys," she s:rys.
"§fe do noi &r¡o¿¿
where the üáste dump sites are. Wc do not see thé'missiles
aimcd at our cities and silos. What's more, radiation is invis-
---ib!e. -,-. . If a cloud of plutonium from a test wafted by, we
would ñót netessarily &zorz it. "
Outside Naidus's hut was a wooden mailbox, with
a notice inviting the audience to write down any thoughts
and feelings provoked by her piecc. Notepads and pencils
were supplied to solicit the audience's participation and
response to such questions as, "rWhat is your nuclear night-
mare?" "What is your fantasy for the future?" A meeting

160
 bd ü.a r.krrbd strn óc donated comments could be
it{t rd &cosscd- -The audience's abiliry to iden-
trl-¡d sh¿t ¡s bcing said," Naidus comments,
q:cs
tt lE¡ ¡ úc of the piece. Thev can read each
&i c¡bmqr ¡nd strrsc that there are many others
ü ¡¡ r-Fnt'r¡ng the rssue in similar rvays." How dods
tbdrd.2r tecJrnolqry affect our sense of ourselves,
ruld ¡¡d our ñ¡rure as a species? The connection
.d- É-¡-gr of despair. confusion. hope and so on) is
ü b tic possrbrlin' oi emporvering the audience and
ót¡ m lc¡r'e the isolariori of o,nicism and hope-
b. Ttc rork provrdes a temporary communiry where
qL
-B cr 'Gnmune- s'ith others about issues not freely
H r d¡¡lu hfe. Telling these stories breaks the silence,
h- úc gdl.t'rnding business of pretending everything's
d. üc¡b drc repression of r¡'hat we know is happening
D- El¿ h Ltccomes a chain reaction as each person who
q- p r bcr parn, iear and despair becomes a catalyst for
¡:qL o ralk about their future, to be with their anx-
-cH J¡ do¡l- r ¡o he1'ond the psvchic numbing that keeps us
'lt r*ould be wonderful if people could see
& rt --- pcaorm such a function iñ thé culture . . . if it
d¡|rtwr ¡s something that breaks down people's isola-
¡.'c-. §¡¡dus. '\f 1' rvork is a conscious reaching out.
Lk rrüodr out there who feels the way I do? Let's talk
¡cL orña. ¿nd rhat way we may have power to do some-
Lg ebo¡.r r--
Tbc hean of the transforming factor here is dia-
-p §¡d¡s bcgan encouraging the audience to participate
l¡ q do-n their responses afterThislsNota Tes, was
fu Á¡.*r¡d at úre Nerv York Coliseum during the Art Expo
d I9|lI- -{¡ dr¡t nme, a ferv people left unsolicited messages
-¡? ó. bcd s'hich rhe artist discovered only when the piece
¡-¡¡ Lug drsmantled. It made her understand what was
,.r!¿.xi: bct s-ork could get people to talk about their feelings
¡¡ ¡ ñod. oi consciousness-raising; connecting through our
i.{-'Er oa dcspair is rhe ñrst step toward social change. "And
dt*¡rtt hol¡' uncool it rvas considered in New York City to
]a ix ¡udrence participate in a piece this way," she com-

161.
ments, "lwas more convinced than ever to work that rvay.
... My students,"she adds, "arc all looking for something
beyond the courses on how to produce slide portfolios and
how to market your work. They're looking for role models
for an art which talks about wl.rat's heppcning in the world
rather than being obsessei with making- innovative creative
statements. "
According to David Bohm, one of today's preem-
inent quantum physicists, when you listen to somebody else,
what they say becomes part of you whether you like it or
not. In an interview with John Briggs in New Age Journal,
Bohm puts forward the startling view that lessons we learn
from subatomic particles can be applied to help solve social
problems. The electron is 6ncly woven, into its surroundingi
and cannot be disentangled from the context in which it
exists-which includes the observer. What you have is a sin-
gle interwoven 6eld, an information field. Bohm proposes
that by creating situations where people can lcarn to dia-
logue with each other, we might succeed in generating a kind
of social "superconductivity, " a higher state of social intelli-
gence. "Just as superconductivity makes possible marvelous
things such as trains that can move without friction," he states,
"or circuits where electricity flows at increcliblc speed, so the
intelligence that comes from dialogue rnay make it possible
for something new to come into human relations. . . . I think
that dialogue will liberate a more subtle kind of intelligencc
than that used in making tools. The intelligence that creates
and uses tools is not able to organize society properly so as
to take into account the consequences of these tools." Bohm
believes we now need this higher social intelligence, born of
exploring and talking together, or else we're not going to
survive. Most of our life is social, he claims, and if we don't
begin to manage things socially, if we don't find a way to be
related to each other at a deep level, then individual intelli-
gence or the achievements of scicnce are not going to make
much difference.
In art, as I have tried to argue, we have an aes-
thetic framework for those who believe the world is com-
posed of discrete objects, and who are fascinated with the

t62
)
 " ¡''t-\i¡l'¡ r'lI¡' 'r t'tlJl'\ ''l
r'rr

::irrriu¡l¡zed self, but *. ao not have a process-o.i*r'.4

for those for rvhom the world consists of dynemic
=¿-:r',r'o:k
rrela tio n a I pr_o,c-e__sses. It is obvious that I
=:.:3.-¡ons ¡n d inre ¡¡el!!lgg1]
,-= rc'",iri ro histoiiil Eaniiórmation of n
d 1.,¡r:¡ ¡n " and
axr-. :nro arrisric practices based instead on the interre-
';m"¡.- e;oloqical and process character of the world, and
.¡ ñ ir- of permeabilitv with the audience. \lhere the
&ñ¡¡:o: '. ¡lue svstem created and
:.end-oTpa an contact
-¡-?l-
rd-"::.<^sllb-iñ=-rneraohóiical lnte-
fibed in these chapters may not be appli-
4 r : -r:: :n¡lorin rrin' of people vet. but the many
neoole yer, manv examples
examoles
rL !r¡:,r r:<gesr ir is not unrealistic to imagine that peo-
Ita i:-.::'. rieJ to conceive of art in a way that radically
L- r:c ::¡'¿ 'l.r e.rrlier tradirions. Certainly the new world
G. -ó..tj :: nvenrieth-century physics, ecology and
d Fs:i :i:o¡n. s ith its call for integrative and holistic
* < ir:i:::. r. no longer based on discrete objects;
t r ¡rc<==s 3 ;o!:rnu_oultlulolP_plg§§-Ud lbe-dynamics
dtrry-',=,,l:-!le¡ rc.. fi el d s. A d rom a postpa tri rch al,
e n f a

É¡;¿- --¡-;ire. our nfevious iña iiiiluálisil?litl§t

.f-.:ia== ¿..-":n:rons ilo not seem compaiiblé with
Lrr- ¡a¡:¡. irre.:ron. .\t this point it would seem to
h &É'n.§ ::j rjeologies of rhe aesthetic proiect itself,
J - f-res-:: .r.¡ :ir¡¡ is assumed bv the narratives of
-¡:,: lT;aiidAife?-that are in need
-É-¡ñ-..---ri-
J- TE._-:r:*-.¡¡ ofTEf,tir\=-rffim anifests itself in
I,'- óa:r¡ s -: :ce. ;hange in the structure of modern
l- r¡ s :w¡¿ ':.cd :o reframe our cate¡¡ories of thought
h f *!rEs. i. ii ::/r'¡ ¡¡omistic. mechanistic models to
cL g5g¡i9¡<irrns prioritv. Fritiof Capra has
b . ¡::¡-Ililñr' paradiqm is arising in sci-
-r-.t =r
t'-¡ - ¿:.i ::":: the oi,J mechanistic and competi-
¡¡l
r d ¡a :§ !-.-: ',r -:', :o .r''rnelhine much more orgrnic,
-!-c. car:gl{: - i-:1rn¡ne :nd spirirual. '[ think it is
-i*--r- E( ..::--. s.r::i o: p:rr,Jiem.- he states in the
=rk ¡r:r ln-¡,¡:u ln¡rn::e. -:irat something is given
r ñr r¡¡ fr:( -- --:e-.:.r:ri -:.,:e- not elen recognized
 -ll :1

as part of thc framewlrk. And in this ccntury, it is the grving

up of structure, moving to process, the giving up of founda-
tions and moving to the network."
This lnsistence on rhé.ictatiotral pature of reality
is precisely wher s,r»issrrrg, !!h!._ei rtcs.ia¡ j¡1!!gl. ¡rrcl ir
r

wouldTcetn-fhat whar wc arc bcginrring to expericncc, at rhc

leading edges o[ our culrure, i1 r\ d i¡n¡g¡r_tl1¡go f C-.rrtesian-
isnr-rhc ¡rrradignr t¡f rlre I',il'olir suLrjccr arrJ objcei. lr is rr.r
nlere acade,mic-eiéicisc cither, as Morris lJcrm¿n makcs very
cxplicit in his ground-brcaking book, 'l'hc llaL,tcluttt,ncú ;l
th¿ WorlJ:

rdless of its duration as a political cntity, cvery civ-

ilization, like every pcrson, is a message-rrakcs a single
statemcnt to the rest of the world. Western industrial
socicty will probably bc remembered for the power, and
the failure, of the Cartesian paradigm. . . . Cartesian
,.iualisrn, and ¡hc scicnce erectcd orr i1s felsc" prenrisrs,
are by and la[álhe-Agliiire
'_foundly biopsychic disrurb¡ncc.
cxprctsion"ái ., p-
j C.:riied toiheii lo[rc:l
conclusion, thcy have finally comc to rcprcsent the most
unecological and self-dcstructive culture and personality

a more holistic outlook that is very much "in the air," but
breaking the spell of dualism is no easy matter. "This notion
) that subiect ¿n sclf .rnd othcr. man ancl envirou-
meni, are qltimately idéiiñlf,li-TñlE6 view, "
states Berman. Even though we are dy changing the idióm
of our culture away from thc linear and the mechanistic and
toward the ecological and the compassionate, dualistic ways
of thinking continue to dominate all our discourscs, myrhs
and ideologies, so that it is not particularly easy to see rhe
beginning of something that is being shaped by a truly differ-
ent awareness.
"How we gor ranglcd into-the _dogn¡¡ nf .ciencc
- xs ertists is a resulióT domination by drepatr¡gc_[q!._rurjo-
-nilisi -oaet," Ciel Bergman wrore ro me in a ieié.,r lett"r.

164
 -l have, for the 25 years I have been painting, felt continu-
ouslv that I »ntst, if to be seen and respected, repress much
oí rÉe love ai,d poetf-lGélS{iETñii l§ *.ongt §le must
rrci use th-e-fñme oT scierrce we must reinvent what art is for
qI D!re.- Although these idea§ have stait&Iióñ67d-tñi6[§ñ-
ñiilñiñ, re verv quickly, the challenge remains for all of irs
o tr¡nsl¡te them into our own activities and practices.
Obviouslv, the kind of change I have been sig-
ralig here is so major that we will encounter much resis-
Erc m eren recognizing it. For one thing, it calls for the
fu¡¡bn of identiries_¡o longer restricted to the struc re
d rfrlcL:r and ofiéct-?n?fre po§§ibility of a new identity
Fúl-u hich Levin describes as being grounded "in the
r-rr¡i-r¡l's realization of our intersubjectivity. " "The
& in dre suhject-object structure is not an immutable
'' orc,l and transcendental reality," he writes in Táe
t tu-tg 9/f. 'lt is a product of our socialization in the
*¡ rodd- Thus, i¡ is not our fate. Quite the contrary."
The nerv ecological, non-Cartesian consciousness
ü. ¡rtl-ulated ven Cle7ily, foTli i§bóih lhe rnodél for
-
d
- r¡nsíormarion and-the analytical framéüóikJor -tocris
a¡i¡',¡n end change in the ecological age-the
-dcar.rrrd insight thar rvill help us to break out-of our
-l q-ri- .rddi.donr. Before we tah-süóCCsfülfweeve
- 3r ¡drix¡¡l r¡'orld vierv into our lives, however, through
5r
- Lfi-t ¡nd neu' assumptions, we will need to recog-
b nrrJr our present mental habits, which are used
--
rhrr-: o drm-es mrher than processes, obstruct our ability
¡fud ¡nd ect from a perspecrive of relationship. (Even
-.-¡R L¡rc rrct )-er caught up rvith the deeper implications
J&cr.:Lscorcq rh¡t relationship is the fundamental
i J ¡fryss: drct'-snll,th in k in terms of isolated pro_blg¡ns
aÉrúdmg- sol,rioni.one--uJi6áiáñiuÍñ6fábe
-
-d¡!-Fffi¡-nilm- óne is rejecting. As Morris Ber-
E F G 'Oaa musr t'e quite clear about . . . accepting
t ñ't.É".< ü¡t s¡¡ch e rejecrion entails. More signifi-
d¡- c bc rrlhng ro l¡ve those consequences; and
r ¡ C-r:,r- drc. dr¡r is not an e¡sv task.- Integrating
t r- m¡':! rto 6¡r's ftfe disruprs one's rot¡l realir-v. As

l6-i
 another ¡rtist wrote in a letter, aftcr hcirring me lecturc ¡bout
Mazeaud's river project at a confercnce: "Many of us are
trying to ligure out ... how to work 'outside' tl.rc insritu-
tional frame of capitalism and tlre old art world sysrcm and
still make a living and share our wc¡rk. On all fronts I see
that dramatic change is necessary, and that it is happening,
lut.not withoulp-ain. Your ideas challcnged some of the peo-
ple at the conference to the poinr of sranding neck veins and
skin blotches. "
Discordant beliefs upset rnarry people, but neck
veins and skin blotches notwithstanding, I am still convinced
that the aesthetic framework, b_qsed as it is on Crrtesien
-dua-hpr;randrhq¡94q{.lp.[;uncteciltEls.¡i],Il$§@
longer the_id_eq-l-¡n_o-{-q.|f-o-r-qrt, qrld- has-.run-jts c_ouise as'the
asccnda_nt vision for. many artists,.¡rho. are nrigratii§-towiid
- ofhgldqr-af ryrsalilSJh a t nr 4 n y_ o rh cri¡g
_g n [CLb au c
failed to consider alternatives to the donrinant mode of aes-
thetics is a testament to the effectiveness of our training and
our socializatit.rn. If wc arc askcd about it, we unthinkingly
rcpeat what we have learned about thc prevailing dcfinitions
of art. Dcspite thc pervasivencss of these prevailing defini-
tions, nothing is more powerful rhan an idea whose rime has
come. A sense of all that is at stake hcrc also suggcsts, at leasr
to me, that although the ability to think systenrically is likely
to arise slowly, and in only a few places at 6rst, the culrural
framework for the future belongs to a ucw vision-

166
i
)
 f:fffi3
."i;É[. ,,
THc Re¡NcHANTMENT or Anr

furctbing escdpes us; ue escdpe ourselues in

tt Txess of no return, we haue missed a cer-
te, oornt for turning back . . . and haue
at+¿/ ¿ uniuerse of ..,
irreuersible pro-
c¿sss that netertheless baue no direction at
.d.
Jean Baudrillard

Eé o; us rs not being drawn, in one way or

&r. tot¿.ird a great tision. lt is more than
¡ :lrs r:- It ts an emerging force. lt is the next
4 - .a.r aolutiontry ioume,-.
Ga, ,^ Zukau

,Eir¡gr ¿ *re gc¡cution-we shall see the

ñ.4*. or r z.u .ne oi human being, and
¡irr *-:rr gtpb aou aln,e may be the first
i....t .-; r-s:J,:-<i t h s b r e.z k t h r o u g h -

Colin Wilson

t67
 1,. t. rti ,- .
,,- :,',:: (
I he pursuit of certain kinds of problcms cl.rar-
acterizes a given par:rdigm. I am proposing that, in thc eco-
logical future, art will come to signify a very different set of
behaviors and attitudes from its modernist aesthetic assump-
tions. .l[odernism wás the art of the industlial age. The_prob-
lems that fascinatedhr<¡r.leItfÑLr al siil,e,.qr1g$a]j-ty-a¡d
. aesthetics, wslg-Ilthglt an)' qr"ttio.t linked'tó-á-certain view
of the world and concern about what was important, which
I believe is now changing. lvlany people seem to have reached
a critical threshold, at which the option of coutinuing on as
they have before is no longer viablc. How, thcn, does a cul-
ture redefine itself ? The critic Arthur Danto refers to the end
of art history as a ti¡ne whcn art di¡cs not cnd, but continues
in a nerv rcalm that is characterized by, nonpatriarclral, non-
Eurocentric ideals. A ¡lew narr¡tivc is bcing crcated, in which
the old guidelines, based on the notion of masterpieces and
the styles of the masters, are no longer uscful. One could find
devastation in the phrase "art history is dead," but as a stu-
dent of mine pointed out, the repercussions are far from dev-
astáting. Although the end to art history is threatcning ro
some, to others it is a step in the redefining of our values that
will further assist the move into a new paradigm.
To speak of the end of a certain infrastructure of
autonomous individualis¡1-or what we lrave been calling
*Caitésian
sélfh-ood]ñJo-thr.rt.., the historical end psychol
logical foundations of modern aesthetic practicc and modern
art history, which have bcen based on an ideal of competitive
sclf-determining personalitics. But increasingly there is an
emptiness at the core of this ego-centered desire for auton-
omy, thc cost of which has been a dirninished sense of corn-
r-nunity, a loss of social comlnitmcnts and a truncated ability
to care about others. "-Our .presenLide!-efÍqe-dom," Wen-
dell Berry writcs in Tbe Hidden Wound, "is only the freedom
to do as we please: to sell ourselves for a high salary, a home
in the suburbs, and idle weekends. But that is a frecdom
dependent upon affluencc, which is in turn dcpendent upon
the rapid consumption of exhaustible supplies. The other kind
of freedom is the freedom to take care of ourselves and each
other." lt is the practice of this "other kind of freedom" that

I 168 t'
tlrl(\)]l I ,'
r 1 ¡ 1 ,r/ I
¡;1,¡¡., ';
11 i,,l ii, ,r,
. -. . ¿ :rictl ro cx¡mine hcre, *,hich encorlreges thc artist to
-i- .!,. 1)nd socinl passivitv, culturally conditioned mocles of
- -:i:.rlrg ¡nd thc clcnial of rcsponsihility, in ordcr to ect as
: : .'. j:i.rl iorcc in trrnsforminq tl.re paradigm of elienarion
- - i : hc.rling ancl conrect. My approach all along has not
- - i- :- .ir,luntent tvitltin orthodox aestltetics [rut a critiquc
' . . i-::i( .rcsthetrcs-of the ground on w.hich it rests, its
- - - . ' :.r lrh ¡ncl its commonly acccpted assumptions.
\,\'irhin nrodcrn culture, society has becn charac-
' - . : '. - :',r.,tilc rirtlre r tlrxn a rcsonrnt environment for
-- : .. -- ,-' .:rng of thc incliviclual; especielly within the avant-
----:. '- : -::::.rl .rrtist $'as :rlrv.rys "aqlinst" socictl'. I havc
'- .:' :::.::ir.rt tiñántrc,' 6fr conrcrru¡TTfd connec-
- . . " - -.:. \!-rv diffcrent-a cleparture from thc con-
'- - - r - - :: ,irrionírl mind of moclernism. A deep duelism
- - - r'r.l ¡rivatc cristcd within modernism, which
- r '. .1 "lrivarc" affair. Certainly the presrige of
-- . . ,;r:h in our culturc ihit even_for an artist
- ..'rnvironmcntal_.I:)rojects such as the R¡ln -
-
- .. . :-: :hr' n¡rricipation and cooper-ation of
' :, : :. :he iceling of liéing independent and
- r:c. :hc psvche.\ln a recent interview in
.' .-r:rr1: "Thc u'ork is irrationnl ancl per-
- \,^oJ', nccds it. The rvork is a hugc
'--:.::::r)'t\ r',i moclcrn art is tlre notion of
-- -^ .:.tl
:- ':^. th rrtist can do anl'thing he
::r.lI the
- - , . i ,'.,,1:lcl nevcr ¡cccpt e comnrission.
- - '' '- - - - - -- ':': ,::..r:.ri ¡o me . The §'ork of art is e
, - - lr''j .J::irü itn¡cture of thinking and
- -.- . - ' - - - r\ ¡!(:r \h.tf'e(l l.'r'this ¡ssumption
- --. .- .::.i !,,u:r(1.rtion on §hich §'c live
-. '- :-: .'.::l: .r:: noli¡ics. sertt¡l ccnsor-
-.::: ,:I for ¡r^L ¡rts. Christo's
-: - -':. : , :''J :n!- tln\\,lvef lnq. Cver-
-- : . : .,..r'.. ::.rnir.hcc'l prrlrticellv
 i\
\:1 .///'., r
iil ,.,l.,.1,r,, t:rq
'))¡rirl .

Fron.r thc urnr"f" point of individualisrn-the

vision of a self in ultimate control, whose innermost impulse
is to self-assertion-it is virrually impossiblc to imaginc thc
rcl¿¡tio¡ral pattcrn [rcnvccr.r individulls and socicty changing
to a complerlcntarl partncrship that is symnretrical and thar
forges mutually enhancing connections, or to imagine the roles
of artist and audience changing to more cqual kinds of rela-
I tionslrip. Individuel freedom and individu_al-uniquencss *...
I cultural itleils-s-urnñ-e? ubnñd-cmbodicd rn thc nrorifs of
IRir-¡-nt'i.i-*l;-today,ho;e-vcr.-,w--fi -n¿f r6at;i1he-curring
I e?ges of our society a differcn¡ cultural iu.rperative is being
I' argued and fought. "Today," states ecofeminist rvriter Char-
lene Spretnak in an essay in'Reweauing th, V-ul¿, "weTóJk
usttce. ecoeconornlcs^
-.. cation, elgphilosj)
ca_t-19!:-§s9plúls»pphy".qqadr"ee-logy, a-nd. fo-r tlre evolution of
O ) ecofenlinis-.r-n . . . to refuse to let thc dominant culture pavc
,"\ rfe,n o-. any longe r with a valuc systcrn of dcnial, disirnc-
-1 ling, fear and ignorence."
>.1 At the 1989 Mountain Lakc Synrposiunr lrcltl in
'.-, iVirginia, one of the spcakers, thc ertist Sidncy Tillim, asked:
w 'Do intentions matter? Docs art, or do intentions, really n.ratter
/
.1if you can't make a living from them?" In a free society, he
,1f,)a.lded, one has almost to irnprovise c<¡nvictions. I should like
\/ to try to enswer these qucsrions rhrough the description. of a
young artist whosc work radically tcsts the meaningfulness
of art bcyond the disintcrestcd, disernbodied, frec play of rhe
mind.
I first met Bradley McCallum rvhcn hc was in rhe
undergraduatc sculpture departmcnt at Virginia Comnron-
wcalth University in Richrnond, wherc hc was nraking Iargc,
rather distinctive objects in weldcd stecl. Sornewhere along
the way, hts consciousness changcd, ¡s dld his basic commit-
ments. He begrn thinking about how an audience would view
and expcrience his work and realized that a lot of the expc-
rience was missing. He fclt a need to engage thc audicncc
more directly and bccame interested in collaboration, feeling
drawn at the seme time to work with thc honreless commu-
nity in Richmond. Brad wenred to do this as.¡¿
italizins on the

170
)
 '': t r) ll
t ' : ri .¡ lia, nttull§ .

" : lot
fle was not searching for independence, autonomy or free-
&¡ so much as for the social need he t art was
Em ¡o fulfll. His aii-sooñ pragmahc,
ive and chareed with ethical that
I GÍI¡NBT tO autonomy. He
¡p qc lcss for originality than for results.
"
i In Richmond, his studio was in an old carriage
rrr some alleys where the homeless hang out and
i¡h their carts. In time, Brad was able to make friends
of them. His future art emerged from these rela-
B¡ad observed that, at least in Richmond, ordinary
- qrs do not roll well on the bumpy cobblestone streets.
r¡rcof the protorype designs for shopping carts,
k Vchicles, piioneered by Krzysztof §flodiczko,
t point still exist primarily in the realm of art,
0E) bccn manufactured or provided in any num-
].od€ss. Brad decided on a different path, since
ooncern was with how to translate helping
-o a living artistic practice, an actual modus
uld go beyond a merely symbolic potential.
¡ oo, started off by building a prototype cart,
rirc mcsh than is found in commercial carts,
Gddy by hand to make a deeper, more pliant
úc -'otcnds he was able to obtain free, from
and hospitals, whom he approached
TGd¿lly sized wheels, removed from bro-
-d o.t rodis¡¡sed medical equipment, that
make it over the cobblestones.
t-fñpmypc cert for a week to one of his
c o a trid bas§ inviting suggestions
fr,om cach potential user. This
ffic coll¡bo¡ations. One man, for
rcqccd a litde awning over
lc o froo his fae while he
i ¿-< f6 13 ¡blc to take in
k d h.d to fuclop a
D ¡Epcntrration and
tlr¡Iatcr¡t ¡¡¡d pgrmg-
brtqri¡c o rfiis i¡¡srrwi¡-

tn
 ing of self and otlrcr. Then hc would create anothcr cart,
incorporating thc new features, and give it to the person.
_

Before Brad left Richmond for graduate ichool in New'Haven,

he had constructed and given away a total of eleven carts.
For him, thc finishcd carrs are sculptures, arrd fbr his senior
".thésií éxhibition in downtown Richmond, he
invited his
¡pme¡¡s- iliénds-t-ó bring¡lsL.,caús-atq¡g iái'th.;p-ening i f
thgy wanted to. Some of them also agreád to parri¡iprre"in
video interviews. A couple of years ago, Brad cieated a non-
profit organization called Collaborativé Urban Sculpture, with
the intention of opening a mobile fabrication srudio contain-
ing all the tools needed to fabricate carts and other tenrpo-'
rary shelters, which would be able to operate in differint
communities, and where the homeless can learn fabric¿tion
skills and participare in building rhc carrs.
During his first rerrn at Yale in 1989, Brad intro-
duced himself to Jackie, a middle-aged black woma¡r who
had bcen living in a small, abandonéd ciry park, uscd rem-
porarily to store nraterials for street rcpairs. Brad rold Jackie
that he was a sculptor and showed her photographr óf rh.
work he'd done with the homeless in Virginia. lnitiilly, Jackie
explained that she had no need for the mobilc carts he;d made;
later, in other conversations, she expressed a wish rhat the
city would make park benches with awnings. This sparked
an idea that they begarr to work on togethcr. An aluminurn
structure with a backrest that juttcd over at the top like a
shelf was built and bolred to the park bench. Jackie was
unhappy with certain features of the construction, but other
homeless pcople liked ir and said that they would happily use
it in her place. They wondered why Brad felt thc neeá io ieep
changing it, continuing to work with Jackie until both of
them were satisfied with rhe result. Ilrird explained ro then.r
what he fe lt was important to collaboration-and the fre e-
dom that comes from being unattaclred to the outcome.
"Simply put," he said, "if I were ro ignore Jackie and leave
the awning as it was, I would violate a trust that is essential
to the collaborerion: rhc poicntial for leerriirrg from onc
another is realizeil by honoring rhis trust-and tilienine. \Virh
Jacki¿, iaa¡éanr rñorking rhe-au, nin g_to -ratisf y both our

1,72
intenrions." The essence of ecological thinking is not linear,
bur finds irs identity in a continuous flow of mutually deter-
mined interactions: the self-in-relationship. In contrast with
R.khard Serra, who is not interested in the public's response
ro his u'ork, having no stake in it and no loyalties, Brad's
aproach is more caring and compassionate. It is a break
ril¡ dominator patterns of perception, thinking and feeling.
Crig" here, is a quality of attention-a total commitment
r boÚng and listening. The healing power of what he does
tGE ffi so much in the obiect exchanged, but in the path of
and understanding that is cieated.
-¡¡tis §'lrat 6nally emerged was far more functional, in
bf¡ rics', and an even more powerful solution than the
fu --rp¿ The rigid back panel was removed, and a tar-
lÉ res ¿ttached to the remaining roof panel in such a
q ü- i could be rolled up and down on pulleys like a
r--r @Erin to create a tent around the bench that was
¡¡¡lrt¡c rc ¿ll n'eathers. Ten days after the tarpaulin was
*l. óG §ss Haven Recreation and Parks Department
ud óc s'l¡ole structure and moved Jackie's belongings
u ¡rrthg hr across the street, their iustification being that
¡e r ¡[or.ed to make a permanent shelter in a city park.
Oe la'd, Bred r¡'as pleased that the structure had stayed
qr-oL*d es long as it did; on another, he was worried
úiü Jackie had brought unnecessary attention
-Errt
rblücof Efuge.
Th¡ s.me rveek, Brad was asked to participate
-ek¡rodtnts'shorv at the Yale Universiry School of
LJ .llrthuurc- .\s a r*'ay of documenting his collab-
F*L, he got permission to do a performance
r t iL ol üc opening. Jackie had many plastic bags
3-ár*..
-t- ü¡t shc and Brad decided to wash and use
- t -üir rüiclr rurned out to be ten washloads at
t bl-, h úc crhihirion sPace at school, slides of
&aüirry tlr narure of the collaboration
- ftd üc
-d pirf r-ran_to_s'hich artists should involve
a-.,¡E ¡ üf-furrr- Thc performancé took place
i ¡ ru ¡&c¡ o drc ruin g¡llcn'. r¡'here Brad strung up

I --i
 a scricsof temporary wash lines and hung Jackie 's clothes up
to dry. During the opening, hc staycd ín the roon.r, ironing
and then folding the clothes into neat piles. The piece was
over when he had placed all thc clothcs into plastic bags and
returncd them to Jackie (which was long after the opening
had 6nished). The intcntion was to demonsrrate through a
com¡nonplace ritual that his- int-cr¡ction with Jackie contin-
ullbeyorrd the 4qking of functional sculpture; but also to
provide a wey for rhe ¡udience to relate to Jackie's home-
-aspect
lessnes-s-il-i ver[ 6u man of hér striving for idenrity-
through collecting ctgthés, which she disrributes ro other
honreless people.
The students at Yale wcrc critical of lJratl's work.
They wondcred, for instance, if by bccoming involved in thesc
people's lives, Brad n.rigl.rt not bc creating falsc hog.rcs for thenr,
and evcn subtly exploiting their plight for his owr.r good. Sonre
fclt that if what he really wantcd to do was to help rhe home-
lcss, then he ought to put his energy toward rvorking in soup
kitchens, or other institutions already addressing thcse prob-
lems. Also, wouldn't politrcs be a rnore cffective medium to
work in than sculpture? And couldn't tlrcrr proble rns bc solved
just as well by buying the¡n tents and camping gear, if indced
temporary shelters were the answcr?
My own students last sunrnrer in l3ouldcr, Colo-
rado, were more sympatlretic. Onc of thcm, Jennifer Rochlin,
commented thus: "Art that falls into tlrc con.rmodity routc is
considered art, but art that is for social clrenge or for a social
purpose is not accepted, because it scems to threatcn the hold
of patriarchal society. Art that is not 'useful' perpetuates the
idea of commodities and wastefulness, which our socicry
embodies. So what if we need to change our view of eesthct-
ics to 6t into a mode where process art cirn bc accepted? Our
minds need to correlate aesthetics with social good. The idce
of cleaning a river and writing your thoughts about it
_lg4¡1rfu[;ftfpfng is
thi homeless is beautiful. These ¿r¿ the
ne¡1 rgs¡hsrics. Art as a process which helps people is far
nróie aesthetically beeutiful to me than a painting or a sculp-
ture which is only pleasing to the eye."
Brad was able to retricve the awning from tl.re

tl '..-
\l'( tJ..lJ I'rl,{ I ú4
ory rvrrhout any trouble. But he still sought a way for the
:rrting to be used without its breaking the law or causing
Jackie anv more hardship, so he constructed a mobile bench
for the arvning, rvhich might be placed, for instance, in front
o[ ¿n erea shelrer, for use at dmes when the shelters are closed,
a iull. -\fostlv. he is concerned that the work itself serve as
¡ c¡lelssr for dialogue and critical contemplation, and per-
lryr elso as a bridge to link the homeless with sources of
it
§hv do I like this work so much? First of all, it
& n ¿cs¡he¡iqt¿ilbe_h-o_A-gless. Rather, it breaks the trance
d coñ; rh-kng l-e.gitimates another kind of moti-
""dtó buy, sell, display or promote. It
.-*'- Trrre rs nofhing
j+ñ'-@-lo.lssr-dülgtr n r!-!In f t h a t i s n o t b a sed
a ge of I
-itse
¡ lt srscrcuous consumptiónl,of valuable goods or the
-----_---.-:..--.--.
.E¡ccr ol s€lt-¡nrelest. I he quallty ot tne response rs
¡t ?.irom alienition, and from the mode
==ñ.es
Jt ¡+¡.sú. rol¡red individual who is submissive to things
rlq lt- rircir rend to shape all our interactions. An intense
¡*¡-xr rrrh things, rvith consumption and one's own
oi imng s€ems to go hand-in-hand with a lack of
di-¡r
-H m socr¡l problems and relationships. "The
Éoi ór¡sron benveen self and world," writes Wendell
b¡ ':rires ¡n emodonal dynamics that has disordered
ftb¡ o, bori rhe socieq' as a rvhole and of every person
atct--
[a ;.:rddrng conventional notions of self and self-
ÉEc a oJd skrn or a confining shell, we engage more
4 r!fi Eir< forccs and pathologies that imperil plan-
qr fri2l rs dr ecologrst and Buddhist scholar Joanna
&.' 6 t mVotd as Lot'e¡, \\torld as Sef. For Macy,
¡L- d:rs. drc ssú rh¡t úrreatens our planet, whether
r - ao¡ogrc¡l or socia I espects, derives from a
aÉ*f -ry- rd Frdrogsor norion of the selÉ, twalléning
D-' Lr!F- F Joñ--¡ sclf srll Elye us ne\f,' porvers, accord-
4r .lFllxr. rrltacd ot ¡n our squrrrel cage of the sepa-
E- h- dr ¡dds. bcc¿usc these ne*' po§'ers are
ú i.-i,É dro m¡nlfes¡ themselves only to the
r-
--.<-? rL- ¡r -e¡Grra ¡yrj a.-: upon our inrerexistence.

r:
 Through the power of his caring, l3racllcy McCallum has
extcndcd his sense of self to also enconrpass the self ofJackie;
it is a genuine shift in identity that extends the sclf beyond
the narrow ego and into thc largcr whr>lc.
The possibility of constclleting a sclf beyontl the
egocentric one that has riscn to powcr in the n.rodcrn world
and is nraintained by our social consensus has also been com-
pcllingly raiscd by Davitl Michecl Lcvin irr all of his books,
each oI which argucs in turn for "practiccs of the self" that
do not separate the sclf fronr society e¡rd withdraw it frr¡nr
'
social rcsponsibility. Ma[y-ploplc ñ-nd it difficult to imagine
a sclf that.is not shapád by thc cónccpi óf ¡n isolatcd individ-
ual fending for hcrsclf in the marketplirce. In our sbciéty, it
is taken for granted that economic sclf-intercst is ir basic given
of l¡unran naturc. Survival-oricntcd bchavior gives us a kind
of rationalc for why it is accepteble not to feel rclated or
compassionate toward others, and lcads us to falscly regard
society and the environment as objects for rnanipulation and
exploitation. These ideas are pumped into us from every
direction. If a historically new kind of self-the ecological
self-docs truly emcrge in our culturc, it will challcngc the
assumption that human beings are basically sclfish and moti-
vatcd cntircly by econonrics. Obviously, what is being sug-
gested here involves a rcvolutior.r in cor.rsciousncss as far-
reaching es the enrergencc of individualisnr itself was during
the Renaissance.
' To sce our intcrdcpendcncc and interconnectcd-
ness is tl.re femiuine pcrspective that has been rnissing, not
only in our scientific thinking and policy-making, but in our
J aesthetic philqqShy q¡-well.ly{ recognition of kinship and
' solidarity bctwcen the individual and thc world-a cultural
- contcxt of empathy-cannot arisc, howevcr, until therc ha!
becn an intcgration of nrrsculine and fcminine energies into
a more creative partnership as the very ground of our lvhole
culture; that synthesis is what can changc the power and
quality of human consciousucss at tlris tinlc. The ncxt cvo-
lutionary stage in consciousness-a move from psychic
defcnsiveness to psychic opcn ness-rcq u ires a morc inte-
grated rclationship betwcen tl.re masculine and fcmininc
.l
,'.',
176
crxnponents in the psyche, the model of inclusiveness and
rüoleness replacing the one-sided rule of the masculine as
¡Lc domrnent human consciousness. This is the inner basis
h thc e,-=ological self, which is able to transcend the Carte--..2-
¡r i.lf of the patriarchal tradition. As Levin puts it in Táá l[
Qaarg oi l,sioz: 'Archetypes which for too long have been I
ñúu¡se onlv of femininity must be seen and valued as
ior rhe fulfillment of masculinity ... (and) be
¡nto irs nenvork of practices and institutions,
-3r&d
-'-l
#rrrun3 ¡trem accordingly." In the post-Cartesian, post-
Fi¡ú¡l i&nnn, the so-called feminine values of caring
d qr¡ssrcn \r'ill plav leading roles.
ln drscussing individualism as the hidden ideal of
GE oi rhe founders of modern sociology, Georg
c-{ T.q¡l¡rcd more than eight decades ago that the free
-cúG.
J é¡riiwr¡ individual might well emerge at some point
:rr of hisrorical configuration. l¡ On lndiuidu-
- -.¡- §or"¡
á.rJ Forrzs. Simmel stated:

I r¡g *rr¡t to he Iieve that the idea of free personality

- -+ EJ drc rdea of unique personality as such are
ic b* rords oi individualism-that, rather, the
-
*-'¡.¡c ¡ork of m:nkind will produce ever more
.¿:l s¡ned forms sith u'hich the human per-
d¡ ¡f, ¡rirm rtself and prove the worth of its exis-
-Er
ET

}l #g ü. edf es relarional rather rhan as self-con-

¡rrr rgrc drat r¡'e could amrally bring about a
EG!, r c ¡c¡¡l ¡nd r.-ulrural evolution. The restruc-
-, lc C¡si¡n rlf. and its rebirth as an ecological
dfr.&
-3d c rcltalus-environment, not only thoroughly
Eld rrcr and self-vier*') but, as I have
lo q- - i r ¿lso üe basis for the reenchantment
ú¡t- -r:I.
To : [=¡md drc ¡ndrvidual's perspecive is to
É!:T- úrh t rúId frorn e pamcipadng consciousness
rds':*'- ¡a otrt'rrm¿ crx- Tix mo.le of distanced, objec-
:r.tbÉn=g- r?"'io'td rom_rno r¡ Jnd soci alrespolpl-bility,
f

1--
 Ir.¡l
l)91¿r tttt'- I'l !,)i, .ftrl:'
tj
has bcen tlLq qf_bp1hqc-iencc and arr in the
nrodcrn world. "!--o¡arrrlg-¡qs!f
As a fonn of thinking, it is nr¡w proving to
be ibrnÉiih-ing of an evolutionary dead-end. Indeéd, Morris
Bcrmarr gocs so far as to clitirn th:¡t thc rccnchlntrtrcnt t¡f thc
world rnay necessitate the end of egoccntric consciousness
altogethcr, for the reason that it may not be viablc for our
continuation on this planet.
Oncc we have changed the mode of our thinking
to the methodology of participarion, we are nor so dctached.
For the participating consciousness, things are no Ionger
rcmoved, separatc, "out there. " .Ob jcctivity strips away cmt-r-
tion, wants only thc facts and is detached from feeling.
Obiectivity scrves as a distimcing device, offering thc illusion
of impregnable strength, certainty and control. Knowledge
can then be used as an instrumcnt of powcr and domination.
If we strive for rather than give up on it, says Levin, thcre is
at least a possibility that we may move bcyond the prevailing
historical conditions, beyond thc socializcd ego, and ()pcn up
to our radrcal rclatedness. Thcn, becomirr¡i unic¡ucly our-
selves need not be framed through tl.rc ¡nodel of thc scparate,
Cartcsian ego.
H e4 rjg_, ggrlus§_b.r,,n gi¡glo¡rh-prccr sllylhose
capacities o-f-u¡rdc.{§t:rr1ding,.trust, rcspe-cr -4¡d lI h¡ngfhgf C
_

be.en s u p p ressed-choos i ng-to fe_e-|_gg1l-pqssion i nstead o f

detachment. Care and qr,mpassion do not bclong to the false
, "ob jectivism "- <¡T-alstheticism, nor to thc_v¿lr¡c-{re-e art that
f is devoid of practical aims and goals. Caic and .onrpmr-.r-,
{ arc the tools of the soul, but they are oftcn rirliculcd by our
lsociety, which has been weak in the empathic mode. L,mpa-
] thy welcomes back the full range of femininc values-fecling,
relatedness and soul-consciousness-that have bcen virtually
.-driven out of our culture by our patriarchal mcntality. Gary
Zukav puts it very well when lre stares, in Tba Seat of tbe
Sozi, that there is currently no place for spirituality, or the
concerns of the heart, within science, politics, business or
academia. Zukav doesn't nrention art, but therc is no partic-
ular hospitablcness there either.
"lf you're out, you're out-you simply don't
count," the Neo-Expressionist artis¡ Sandro Chia dcclarcd

''ni,r.
/rorr¡n1tr:o 178
 -:::-: - :: :1:::'\ i.\\' s ith Lillv \Vei in Arr in America.
-:.- -- -::-:: ¡..r:te:rs must happen ivithin this system. . . .
: ':.¡, - ':r:r.. rhcn I go to e gallery and show the
:É-.,.-- - .. :. . I:; ,,r ¡rk is ¡ccepted! the de¡ler makes a
<.:: -'. '-:- :- ::<:: .i:ion. People come and say you're
g'.:.: -- -" : -- t-. :. ::rr :hev ¡ev for these paintings and

¿l s- -- -:-:: -:-:-:. :- j'-.:i::rrl\. I think this is tl¡e wcirdest

i--É - -¿ r -- j
-
'.1 -- : -. .r :.-
..,.::l:n ¡ s\.s¡em of categories
*
-..r--r¡.: --r:É=. l::-.:-:-: i::-j !-aJ res are especially strong
r :-:-:-jÉ-:l=-:=-:'' 13;': !99m1ü:hqv ensl ave
t
!' :-,: _I.- --- -.-:-: :-::. Ce. So far,
¡ --:- -:- r-1 :-:- :, --i - -: - -:':: :-...-,,ij'tg ,l Sttstdinable
;'.--r- :-' ru¿-:-,:-- -:- : --'i:<: l:::r¡rilv Io \\'omen!
;:'ü -r-'u -c::\ -: i;-::: - -:- ).i::. :::: rvrll he recep-
:-''- -r :t:':- : - --:-. :<:i3:. a ::.'l: .1 a:l.lnqe ln
.r-:(-r . -:.---
:. \:--:-: - - .: -: _- :i--ii:.t:. -::ú iocter\., \\'e
:::' 'r: _:-: -, .¡ :- . :-:: ::a: ',r 1.. ieel threat-
. : -:. ::i ',r i.i r rgorouslv
-r:'lr'"\: __::
--.: - :: . -:: j:.: j--'!inntron of pro-
-: :r',,r i-r:rrll-1r. bLlt it iS a

'. -- -- .:'. - -- :- : :-:-.:':(rPr¡se Jnd xre llkely to bt

...--.--.-_-
:---:E5:. -- ' - -:'-: .-r:::i\rng rhat more encl rnore art-
.- :-: -:: -: '- -: :::. :.iriit.tting irleologt'. Along n,ith
::. - :-.:. .r:. l.1c!'d §'ith a choice: rvhether to
- j - -j.. contlitioned bv our culture, or to
.:-. jr::r:cna colrsciorrsness of the ecological
; .r . rr r.-r. ;.rn ri r' shift our lrsual way of think-
-'.. .::. :':', ¡r( ion)Jrírs\ionate structures in our
j .\ ( -r;.:1.\ e the "rvorld view of attachment"
'-.:: :.rlki lbout, rttachment to the world,
- ::c,,r'r¡rldi .{t this point we lack any practi-
..:r:::rr ior ¡ctio11, unlcss we are willing to act
-'.: j rrginc'c'r a new conceptual framework for

'.,,1,'r , ,, lr-i(-
179) t

t'
 .'.,rl,i/ )l i'' l ' '¡'t
I', I : l

our lives. The compessionate, ecological sclf will necd to bc

cultivated with as much thoroughness as we have cultivatcd,
in long years of abstract thinking, rhe mind gcared to scien-
tiñc and acsthetic objcctivity: distant, cold, ncutral, valuc-
free. " V/hen you are conrpassit¡nare wi1h19q1¡s9lf an_d oth-
els,-ly,Ües-,4-l!@p¿s^sion!r te. Yo u
draw to yourself other sr.¡uls of like frcquency, and with them
you create, through your intentions and your actions and
your interactions, a conrpassionatc world. . . . What you intend
is what you becomc."
Evcn tht-rugh dominátor structures arc still tlrc
most prevalent structures rn our socicty, which of course
includes the art world, a¡rd show grcat strcngth and st:rving
power, the dominator n¡odel is no! lhq e!Lly_!]_ode!!t§_pes:
sible to have intirnatious t¡f what it nrcrns to bc an artist
beyond do m inator accu I tu ra tio n rnd-tti. [-ofóli on a I I dco l -
'
--ogy- of brisk sales and good reviovs.¡ ln Hii"- lvloidirlis»t
Failed?,1 wrote th¡t "gcnerally speaking, the dynamics of
professionalization do not disposc artists to acccpt their moral
role; professionals are conditioned to avoid thinking about
problems that do not bcar dircctly on their work. "
Since writing this nearly :r decade ago, it seems as
if the picture has been changing. The politics of reconcep-
tualization lras already begun, and thc sc¿rch for a new agcndir
for art has beco¡ne a conscious search. Chicago artist Othello
Anderson, for instance, wlro collabor¿tcs with Fern Shaffer
in photographing her rituals, moved away some years ago
f ro m wo rk i n g i n -a M iliu¡.I r t-.nodq 1¡1 _old q-r !-o_p a r]lt- p a n -
.

oramic irnlgcs of the worlcl's forcsts [rtrnting ¿nd rhc effccts

of deforestation from eci,.l rain. Hc conlnrcnts thus on his
-É+-+-.-,--,
own transformation o( conscious¡¡css: "Carbon and other
pollutants are enritted into tl.re air in such tnassivc quantities
that largc arcas of iorcst Iandsc:rpes are dying frorn the effects
of acid rain. Millioní of tons of toxic \\'este are be ing poured
into our lakes, rivers and occxns, contáminating drinking watcr
and killing off aquatic life. Slash-and-burn forest clearing and
forest 6res are deplcting tl.re forests rvorld wide. Recognizing
this crisis, as an artist I c¿n no longcr cor1sidcr rnekirrg art
that is void o t cetflcs no

t-Iiból
\cr br n',
"iji:1I
 .' | ; :¿'t't'tu'{-
'"-'-'l-"'a1'
' I"
.r¡
rt5aw:s::.::::.. rn \\'ithour spiriruel contenr, rrt thet phces- - ,

fo ru ¡t¡yr ¿ .o n ren r. b-r aJaiha r Eñó;A th e s !S !q-Af üslrysrl d

! siÉ;=s¡s:s. - -[ hase ro sa]'," Marcia Tucker, the direc-
od á. \<r¡ \luse um oi Contemporary Art in New York,
-
d ! ¡ !b.cn: rnlen'ie* sith Roslyn Bernstein in Con-
E GrÉ.a -d:¡: I Lrlieve arr cannor exist separate from
a ptacri- ¡n:l .-ulrural concerns. I-ihink rhat rhose who
d ER D tq ¡ñ rn Jn lvon ros'er áré-uroik¡ñg fióm an
Á@ dr r-orld ¡h¡r is, ro me, very unrealistic." -
úc zt o rr¡nsrnon¡l rimes. an unde6ned period
-F
b&'-+r¡' úErEtJ;n¿;;;hmenr ¡o rh; new.
l-:¡rt rE-:ú E ¡i:.¡i to the delineation of goals, as

oL
-J:
pallFü fi|Ü r¡:!!gn€ that our present system
rffuqc ! rod"rrg i.et:er: closeness, instead of 0'
i *.-s' oi e^n-enrric ifl-ues: s'hole-sys-
g r qrt= r:r oi c¡nng: rn rndividu-
a úáñl:uJ-' '¡u: rs qrounded in social
- rd!
-- -rú ir¡.T-r-.,:r ;c.rn'.r n rñ' and rhe *.elfare
J¡*. r tqrrni: ¡l;¡:. c': 3n ¡s r socrar nracnce
.r:
---¡
-F r.¡::::o ¡ s¡lue-tased art.ind
LI I tL'
-dkrffi,--*- llc J'ut:¡z ::, ;:; ::r::-i::nrment. The sÍlcred-
EdLi ir aj: j:<: :"t: :le !o mean something
¡¡'r¡ivq¡;"+_r-:: ¿a::¿aia.s cul:e n¡tur¡llv rvhen we
¡§.-!¡¡sor.-¿ :¡l]l::i:r e modes of relating to the
d "d ¡ r-i ,a(i'€:-':.:O: .-otrse ¡he exasperation over
E ber l.:: ¡i the phorographer Annie
(Et o¡:E =:gg.r:rg
r- -ar. :::::..¡..rlh pure vision ects as some
¡ia-q ,i:r:¡E::-r.:l rn rts direction,"
.tl ¡c =s i;:r.': io sav that the social change
d ¡c=: r:-l i¡tr¡<n qur.klv. The sratus quo is deeply
rÉ -o rr*. pJr.tdigm l.ill suddenly eliminate
t tpr ,r, jr. EcsrJe--. g:r'en the differences emong us,
lrc.-
-.i-!r rEr ii¡.l'" :,: ¡ gr.r ¡hJr .rn ecocentric, compassionate
d ¡r*a:rer-r-. ::¡nesork is a good thing for all art.
'-f+a- ¡- ¡:.. :onnnue ro exist alongside that of the
n.-¡a1.qg í.-.. .:ier ¡hr l.rrrer has more fullv em_e¡ge¡l--
iu ¡:c ::--: . -,..¡:,,rnr.¡erhlps, in its domf nance and
.

rác¡zre- )_l-j-:E1¡i!pgt,_h owever, defi n itely entails

l .l 'l
'' ll,-' ,,',' ':./
l8l I
another se nsibility. My students are oftcn incredibly respon-
sive to this sensibility when it is opened up for them. Dorie
Klein, who lives in Denver, wrote recently: "l consummated
nry affair with the ecological paradigm lest night. I am now
committed to the relationship. lt took a long time to realize
and ur.rderstand why my relationship with modernism had to
end. I had been at odds with modernism's alienating attitude
for a long time. . . . Since putting these feelings (about art)
on a par with feelings of the heart and compassion, it became
clear why I can't continue my relationslrip with modernism
any more, I've lost a lot of respect. Modernism was primarily
scl f -serv i n g. l--rppreciate--rr+uch -thaú¡-had - to- o fle r, b u r i rs
values ygg sgqs!¡ouic-a-id-differer.J'om-+hose-L-arlie to.
. ---Tf! divorce fronr modernism will not occur overnightl it

will take time to heal the wountls of scparation. There will

with feelings
of affection. However, once I became familiar with, and began
to ur.rderstand, the ecological paradigm, I knew I could never
go back to modernism. The nurturing and healing process of
the ecological paradigm is just what I need." Such insights
are not gained without a-p¡rinful strugslq, as indicated by
these comments of Kathy ltitchie's, another srudenr: "ls it
the responsibility of artists to lind solutionsl I think that I
must finally come to the conclusion that, yes, it is their
responsibility. I do not mean to say that it is solely their
responsibility. . . . I struggle with rhis ro some extent, because
I believe there is still a place for other types of art in our
modern world, but I guess I would have ro say thar art must
take an increasingly responsible role in pointing ro a new
direction for our culture."
My sense is that the artists in ¡his book who have
moved beyond protest and oppositional mind to embrace
reconciliation and positive social alternatives do not repre-
sent merely the response of isolated individuals to the dead-
endedness of our present situation. They are not a movement
in a vacuum. Tlrey are prototypcs who embody the next his-
torical and evolutionary stage of consciousness, in which the
capacity to be compassionate will be central not only to our
ideals of success, but also to the recovery of both a n.reaning-
ful society and a meaningful ert.

il^arut
wrrf15 1r ^ ¡,'"11'r'"'1i[
 I: :s ::ue thar the value-based art they are trying
;:-.. ¿r:s:s onlr.at the margins of social change, bui
r =r::.
= rú- -':::. .3 ¡i¡ical ¡hreshold is reached when enough
lEEi. =:::i3 :ie:r self-images and beliefs to begin tÉe
:erügm: o: ¡: en:ire socien.. (lr has been ,ugg.rtid thrt
t - - -:---: ai ¡ eroup'of people need tlchange in
GD =E¡= *--::ii :n :he s.hole.: .{nd, as social ecologist
IEry !rrú::: :r,":. ou¡ in Tl:e llodern Crsri, it is pre-
9-r--=:- - ¡nd the 'margins" that we must
-*j9
E-a!f,e¡r::: --ffial to
E-iñf,iJhev rvill
h-q-
\j'

. .- .",.. ..-,

183
 Brrrr§-tffinrHv
tld#ffi

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-tG- Tqu¡¡o, 1990.

)¿ValdTmed
ts rr-

r9l
 . $15.95

Suzi Gablik's lasr book, Has Modernism Failed?, won an astounding

number of readers with its passionate yer mercilcss description of an
enervated contemporary art scene that seemed to be without purposd ¿;
or moral aurhoriry. ln The Reencbantnrcnt of Art, Gabtik confronts
again the effects of modernism on our sociery, and proposcs a rcmedy
based on a redefinition of our art and culturc,
As Gablik describes ir: "The psychic and soci;¡l srructures, in
which we live have become roo profoundly anti-ecological, unhealthy
and destructive" to indulge the modernist sense <¡f alienarion and social
andpathy. Gablik's solution for transforming personal vision inro social
responsibiliry involves new cultural imperatives, that include a rencwcd
sense of community, an enlarged ecological perspective, and greater access
to the mythic and archerypal underpinnings of spiritual renewal.
The Reenchantment of Art introduces a number of exciting
new artists offering fresh approaches ro making mcaningful arr. It is a
book that will challenge and inspire any reader who cares about the
future of art.
Suzi Gablik is an artist, writer and teacher. She has lectured and
written extensively in the areas of philosophy of art, cultural criticism
and cultural polidcs, Her previous books include H¿s Modernism Failed?,
/
Magritte, and Progress in Art.

t\P
Thi f".f. is so well-informed, so crisp in its attack, so deeply felt in
its recommendations for how to get out of the art dilcmmas of this
century and to move with heart and soul, even with communal caring,
into the next that it is a must for all of us.

Hillman, aurhor of
-James
Re-Visioning Psychology md A Blue
Fire: Selected V/ ritings by James Hilhnan.

Thames and Hudson

500 Fifth Avenue t58N 0-500-27ó89-7
New York, New York 10110

Cov.¡: Fcrn Shií.r, \vinrcr Solsrice, 1985

Phoio by Olhcllo Andcrson
lüjffi[Jilflü[lilll ntfrfitfifll
Printeii u. rh. Unncd St¿r.sof America