the anonymity of the character is part (if not the most important part) of the street artist (turned film maker with the screening of his first “pseudo-documentary” at the Sundance festival) Banksy. where does the anonymity end and the branding begin (from street, fugitive art he has been transformed in a gallery sold artist) is another question. Banksy makes art with no official approval, even despite it, and he is sold, and famous for it. I wonder where would Banksy find himself in the planned – by the Romanian Union of Visual Artists – law to create an “official statute” of the artist to be confirmed by a committee or something as such.

I recently saw two great exhibitions at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The first one was the presentation of the work by American photographer, Robert Frank, The Americans, an album in fact dating of 1959. Frank shows America the way he saw it by traveling across the country in 1955-1956. So many opposite images: political men, the desertness of the paysage, the new Hollywood stars, the diners, the poor, the left behind, the blues and the open horizon.

The second exhibition, American Stories looked at American painting of the everyday in the period 1765-1915 and spoke of the American society. The political was present everywhere: be it race discrimination, be it women disenfranchisement etc. What struck me is the way the two exhibitions could have been thought of together. Maybe because it was my first encounter with America, I saw these paintings also as historic snapshots, just as Frank’s photos. They spoke of the construction of a nation, of its different components, faces and perspectives. I particularly loved this one, by Winslow Homer (American, 1836–1910), Dressing for the Carnival (1877).

The third element to my American equation was the Kandinsky superb exhibition at the Guggenheim. I was not a particular fan of K (I loved the painting that opens the exhibition) but the expo greatly recaptures his evolution in parallel to politics. He is the artist that invokes the right to create “art for art”, not tainted or influenced by the politics of the time. In his search for the spiritual in art he leaves aside the political.

Still at the Guggenheim I saw the work of an English artist, Anish Kapoor entitled Memory that seems so right these days when all is talked about is the memory of 1989. His work has to be seen on site to feel its weight, to be confronted to the feeling of asphyxiation. I of course took the literal translation of the work and saw it as the unbearable weight of the past… (a link to a recent show by Kapoor in England)

America la prima noastra intalnire m-a fascinat. s-a prezentat extrem de bine. asteptarile mele erau extrem de mari si nu cred ca a vrut sa ma dezamageasca. am fost, timp de 14 zile aproape, ca turistul cel nesuferit care se entuziasmeaza la orice vede; constant ziceam “wow. wow. wow” cu riscul de a deveni enervanta pentru cei din jur dar nici ca mi-a pasat!
am inceput frumosul periplu la Princeton unde am fost la o conferinta despre insemnatatea anului 1989 din perspectiva globala (desi cu o pronuntata prezenta poloneza, in frunte cu Adam Michnik, extrem de volubil si de..simpatic). Princeton, orasel universitar este fermecator. Acolo toamna parea cea mai dulce, imaginile de mai sus spun totul. Pot sa adaug ca erau veverite peste tot ceea ce facea totul si mai de poveste. Campusul parea locul perfect pentru studiu. Totul iti era asigurat cu singura conditie sa iti vezi de treaba si adevarul este ca nu prea am dificultati in a ma imagina studiind acolo pentru o perioada…
Conferinta a fost extrem de interesanta mai ales ca, persoanele alese pentru a comenta prezentarile au facut la randul lor “lectures” acordand o atentie deosebita lucrarilor (pe care eu n-am mai vazut-o la nicio alta conferinta la care am participat), apoi pentru ca participantii erau printre cei mai cunoscuti istorici ai Europei comuniste si post-comuniste…
In primele dimineti ziua a inceput cu breakfast la un bar/local. Prima experienta a fost dezastruoasa dar eu tot nu mi-am sters zambetul de pe buze. am mancat cele mai horor clatite a l’americaine (motiv pentru care zilele urmatoare nici nu am mai riscat sa comand in alta parte:) si am baut cea mai proasta cafea, motiv pentru care am privilegiat apoi Starbucks ce are statut de quasi-religie (e o cafenea la aproape fiecare colt de strada iar americanul pare sa aiba drept accesorii esentiale: i-Phone intr-o mana si paharul de carton in cealalta). Zilele au continuat cu prezentari presarate de discutii care mai de care mai interesante si s-au sfarsit cu cina tot in colectiv ori la Prospect house, ori la Wilson Center. Am cunoscut acolo si un cercetator roman care preda economie politica si lucreaza pe politicile FMI (si in AL), mi-a dat de altfel si ultima sa carte ce include Ro si e pe birou, ma asteapta.
Am facut de altfel greseala de a intra in libraria din Princeton. Nu e decat una, pe strada principala dar e “maricica” si are cam tot ce ai nevoie/ Regret si acum 3 carti la care am renuntat, preferand vreo alte 6..Am gasit niste carti excelente despre subeictul meu aplicat la Iugoslavia si Argentina, plus o carte despre gestionarea memoriei in Chile. ma asteapta si ele.
Duminica am ramas in Princeton (conferinta luand sfarsit sambata) si am avut ocazia sa vad oraselul prinzand viata. In timpul saptamanii nu prea am iesit ziua in oras, fiind pana seara la conferinta. Duminica parea ca toti cetatenii erau pe strada principala din Princeton, era si un soare genial ce-i drept. M-am plimbat pana am simtit ca ma lasa picioarele si am vazut, trecand de centrul foarte mic cateva strazi cu case frumoase (parca scoase dintr-un film) dar in care nu parea sa fie picior de om. Majoritatea aveau usile la garaj deschise si uneori si usa de la casa. Mi s-a accentuat sentimentul de “loc in care pare ca nu ti se poate intampla nimic”. Pietoni nu prea erau daca paraseai “centrul” dar erau masini destul de multe; distantele chiar sunt altele in America totul fiind cu mult mai mare..si da uneori nu mai era trotuar :))
Luni dimineata am plecat voios spre New York, orasul pe care imi doream de atata timp sa-l vad. Il zarisem deja in drum spre Princeton (ne-au luat de la aeroport si a fost cam lung drumul, in jur de 2 ore). Cu trenul, care m-a lasat la Penn Station am facut mai putin de 2 ore. Ce am vazut pe geam (adica New Jersey) nu prea m-a impresionat..asa ca am sa continui direct cu povestea NY
Prima zi de plimbare m-a dus in Times Square unde am intrebat un politist cum sa ajung in TS la care el mi-a zis “this is it!” tare, dar chiar aveam alta preimagine …am continuat glorios pana am ajuns la Central Park, moment de prelungite wow-wow-wow caci locul este extrem de frumos. CP ocupa cam o patrime din insula Manhattan si adevarul e ca e ca o oaza in nebunia de betonsticlasiotel
Am stat cred ca cel putin o ora pe o banca pe aleea celebrissima pe care o cunosteam deja din atatea filme. Adevarul este ca New Yorkul ti se pare familiar daca ai crescut cu o educatie filmica made in Hollywood

to be continued…

seeing Chavez walking proudly, smilingly on the tapis rouge in Venice cote a cote with Oliver Stone I got struck by the way fiction in a filmed form interferes with the ‘real politics’. How much of the political imaginary is, nowadays at least, made of filmic images about our past, present and future? Oliver Stone with his JFK, W. and now South of the Border (which started as a bio of Chavez and was transformed in a look at the “new left in Latin America) or Michael Moore with his “documentaries” can attest to this fictionalization of our realities.

the first thing I would like to mention is the publication of a book – catalog for an exhibition I couldn’t get to and regret it enormously. It is called “Cel ce se pedepseste singur” (the one that punishes himself) and accompanies the travelling exhibition with the same name that recollects the works of 3 Romanian artists of the 1980s/19990s: Ion Grigorescu, Florin Mitroi and Stefan Bertalan. The first one is in my opinion the most interesting case as he developed an aesthetic of marginality and criticized without saying so the communist power. But most importantly he also engaged in a relationship with the communist power. Analysing his or other important Romanian artist work of those decades (especially the 80s) without taking this into account seems to me a failed attempt at understanding. Placing this artist as well as others in a logic of for or against/ pro or resistance is a false dichotomy for the Romanian case. Comprising the way their relationship with power articulated together with or despite their “private art” is a must. At the launching of the album the terms lacked this coordinate…

the second thing I would like to signal is the exhibition I would love to see and hopefully will! It is held in Stuttgart at the Württembergischer Kunstverein and it is called “Subversive practices” . It encompasses besides works from Romania (including art by Grigorescu), works from other dictatorships: Chile, Argentina and Brazil but also Russia, Spain, Hungary and GDR. It poses the question of artistic subversion by an appeal to artistic means in the sense that “it is only aesthetically that art is political” that is oh so true under dictatorial regimes. Hopefully I shall be going there and will write more after seeing the works.

for some years in Bucharest there has been a night of museums when every citizen can visit the museums of his town for free. I went again this year (after having missed one year) to 3 museums. At the first one, the museum of national art (MNAR) the exposition we wanted to see (photos done by Magritte) was not open for the nocturne public. The second museum, the Museum of Bucharest was impossible to see as a crowd (literally) had entered the premises and suffocated there. Summer has come to stay in our beautiful city and the air was missing in the Sutu Palace. The third and last attempt to see some “free art” was at the oh so controversy ridden Museum of contemporary art hosted by the House of the People. There we stood for almost 1h and a half in a line waiting to get in. Staying in line for an art exhibition beats any line. right? well not in practice. The question that came to my mind after this triple attempt to enjoy a night at the museums and saw so very different people entering these spaces as they enter stadiums with no reverence what so ever was: is democratization of art such a good thing? Knowing how museums were exactly imagined as places meant to open up a closed space to the grand public, to the people, posing this question might appear strange. I wonder if confronting art can have the effects one expects when opening the doors of art to the grand public. My conclusion that hot Saturday night was negative.

I already noticed and I was of course not the first or only how candidate Obama became so rapidly a passionate subject for all sorts of artists. Obama as president and as an art subject or pretext has come to the fore once again with the occasion of his 100 days in office. Michael D’Antuono’s painting The Truth picturing Obama in a Christic position has risen discussions. The cult of the image of a democratic president, his transformation in a symbol or basically an image tout simplement is rare in democracies. This is an interesting future theme to discuss larger I think. I attach the image of D’Antuono’s painting taken from here

“The Truth” by Michael D’Antuono