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Allowed a Space in Russia for Criticism, Artists Have Fun With It Allowed a Space in Russia for Criticism, Artists Have Fun With It
(34 minutes later)
ST. PETERSBURG, Russia — On a hot day in July, a line of shiny black Mercedes pulled into St. Petersburg’s Palace Square. To the delight of onlookers, a security crew unloaded some 600 pounds of artificial snow. ST. PETERSBURG, Russia — On a hot day in July, a line of shiny black Mercedes-Benzes’ pulled into St. Petersburg’s Palace Square. To the delight of onlookers, a security crew unloaded 600 pounds of artificial snow.
As the snow quickly melted, the Moldovan artist Pavel Braila explained to journalists from Russian television that this snow — some of it brought straight from the carefully tended Olympic pistes of Sochi — was a symbol of the money that had evanesced in the hands of the Russian state as it transformed subtropical Sochi into a winter sports arena. The same public money, Mr. Braila added, was probably being used to arm separatists in southeastern Ukraine.As the snow quickly melted, the Moldovan artist Pavel Braila explained to journalists from Russian television that this snow — some of it brought straight from the carefully tended Olympic pistes of Sochi — was a symbol of the money that had evanesced in the hands of the Russian state as it transformed subtropical Sochi into a winter sports arena. The same public money, Mr. Braila added, was probably being used to arm separatists in southeastern Ukraine.
“Now you see,” the artist said as a couple of children started a snowball fight, “we don’t want war, we want fun.”“Now you see,” the artist said as a couple of children started a snowball fight, “we don’t want war, we want fun.”
“Golden Snow of Sochi,” Mr. Braila’s project, is one of a series of playful but politically critical art events that have taken place in St. Petersburg as part of Manifesta, the European contemporary art biennial whose 10th edition opened in June.“Golden Snow of Sochi,” Mr. Braila’s project, is one of a series of playful but politically critical art events that have taken place in St. Petersburg as part of Manifesta, the European contemporary art biennial whose 10th edition opened in June.
Invited by the powerful State Hermitage Museum three years ago — when conditions in Russia were considerably less repressive — this year’s biennial faced a number of existential crises.Invited by the powerful State Hermitage Museum three years ago — when conditions in Russia were considerably less repressive — this year’s biennial faced a number of existential crises.
“We’ve been confronted with an almost Shakespearean dilemma,” said Hedwig Fijen, the founding director of Manifesta, which is based in Amsterdam. “With Crimea, Sochi, the fighting in eastern Ukraine, the crash of Malaysia Airlines Flight 17, every time we were confronted with the dilemma: Should we go or should we stay?”“We’ve been confronted with an almost Shakespearean dilemma,” said Hedwig Fijen, the founding director of Manifesta, which is based in Amsterdam. “With Crimea, Sochi, the fighting in eastern Ukraine, the crash of Malaysia Airlines Flight 17, every time we were confronted with the dilemma: Should we go or should we stay?”
That Manifesta 10, which has drawn about a million visitors and runs through October, decided to stay in St. Petersburg is less surprising, some say, than that they were permitted to. “We are allowed to have a critical voice in Russia, and nobody quite understands why,” Ms. Fijen said.That Manifesta 10, which has drawn about a million visitors and runs through October, decided to stay in St. Petersburg is less surprising, some say, than that they were permitted to. “We are allowed to have a critical voice in Russia, and nobody quite understands why,” Ms. Fijen said.
With exhibits including portraits of famous gay men and radical feminist borscht cook-offs, she said, “no one understands what the borderline is, what you are allowed to do and not.”With exhibits including portraits of famous gay men and radical feminist borscht cook-offs, she said, “no one understands what the borderline is, what you are allowed to do and not.”
So far, though, Ms. Fijen said, no artists have been censored, even when they have taken to the streets as part of Manifesta’s Public Program, which is supposed to bring discussion of contemporary conflicts to the city’s public spaces.So far, though, Ms. Fijen said, no artists have been censored, even when they have taken to the streets as part of Manifesta’s Public Program, which is supposed to bring discussion of contemporary conflicts to the city’s public spaces.
The city agreed, for example, to let the Estonian artist Kristina Norman erect a Christmas tree in Palace Square for two weeks in July — despite the fact that Ms. Norman’s tree was an explicit reference to the Christmas tree that stood for many months during the anti-Russian protests in Kiev’s Independence Square, also known as Maidan.The city agreed, for example, to let the Estonian artist Kristina Norman erect a Christmas tree in Palace Square for two weeks in July — despite the fact that Ms. Norman’s tree was an explicit reference to the Christmas tree that stood for many months during the anti-Russian protests in Kiev’s Independence Square, also known as Maidan.
In St. Petersburg, Ms. Norman’s Christmas tree remained mostly bare. But the morning after the Malaysia Airlines flight was shot down over Ukraine, a white paper airplane appeared hanging from the tree. Just as mysteriously, it disappeared.In St. Petersburg, Ms. Norman’s Christmas tree remained mostly bare. But the morning after the Malaysia Airlines flight was shot down over Ukraine, a white paper airplane appeared hanging from the tree. Just as mysteriously, it disappeared.
“Of course, it was provocative to have a Maidan Christmas tree in front of the Hermitage on Palace Square,” Ms. Norman said of the artwork, which she called “Souvenir.” “It asks the question: Is there a revolutionary potential in Russia, or not?”“Of course, it was provocative to have a Maidan Christmas tree in front of the Hermitage on Palace Square,” Ms. Norman said of the artwork, which she called “Souvenir.” “It asks the question: Is there a revolutionary potential in Russia, or not?”
In another project, Ms. Norman invited the Ukrainian artist and Maidan activist Alevtina Kakhidze to St. Petersburg. In Palace Square, Ms. Norman filmed “Iron Arch,” a video in which Ms. Kakhidze describes everything she sees as if she were still in Kiev, showing someone around the site of the protests.In another project, Ms. Norman invited the Ukrainian artist and Maidan activist Alevtina Kakhidze to St. Petersburg. In Palace Square, Ms. Norman filmed “Iron Arch,” a video in which Ms. Kakhidze describes everything she sees as if she were still in Kiev, showing someone around the site of the protests.
“And the bullet holes are here,” Ms. Kakhidze murmurs at one point in the film. Gesturing to the Hermitage she says, “They were probably shooting from that roof.”“And the bullet holes are here,” Ms. Kakhidze murmurs at one point in the film. Gesturing to the Hermitage she says, “They were probably shooting from that roof.”
In a public statement, Mikhail Piotrovski, director of the Hermitage, interpreted Ms. Norman’s projects as a warning. “You look at this film, and you see how terrible Maidan is,” he said in an interview. “We should do everything we can not to have Maidan in Palace Square.”In a public statement, Mikhail Piotrovski, director of the Hermitage, interpreted Ms. Norman’s projects as a warning. “You look at this film, and you see how terrible Maidan is,” he said in an interview. “We should do everything we can not to have Maidan in Palace Square.”
Organizers and observers attribute Manifesta 10’s ability to function relatively freely to the patronage of the influential Mr. Piotrovski, who said he wanted to bring the biennial to St. Petersburg because his city had fallen behind Moscow in its contemporary art offerings.Organizers and observers attribute Manifesta 10’s ability to function relatively freely to the patronage of the influential Mr. Piotrovski, who said he wanted to bring the biennial to St. Petersburg because his city had fallen behind Moscow in its contemporary art offerings.
“You can’t use art for political purposes,” said Mr. Piotrovski, whose museum celebrates its 250th anniversary this year. “This is a sacred territory. It has its own rules.”“You can’t use art for political purposes,” said Mr. Piotrovski, whose museum celebrates its 250th anniversary this year. “This is a sacred territory. It has its own rules.”
Another exhibit, “Apartment Art as Domestic Resistance,” a series of readings and performances held in a former Soviet-style communal apartment, was less sanguine about the inviolability of art. Olesya Turkina, the Russian curator of the exhibit, said the city’s independent artistic life took place mainly in kitchens after it was driven underground by the Soviet regime.Another exhibit, “Apartment Art as Domestic Resistance,” a series of readings and performances held in a former Soviet-style communal apartment, was less sanguine about the inviolability of art. Olesya Turkina, the Russian curator of the exhibit, said the city’s independent artistic life took place mainly in kitchens after it was driven underground by the Soviet regime.
That Russia could see a return to this kind of cultural repression was one concern of the participants. “Whether Manifesta is here or not, it is really important for us to include our view and our voices in the public space, because this possibility could end,” said Pavel Arsenev, a poet and activist based in St. Petersburg. Mr. Arsenev, 28, came up with the popular antigovernment slogan “You don’t even represent us,” which in Russian also means, “You cannot even imagine us.”That Russia could see a return to this kind of cultural repression was one concern of the participants. “Whether Manifesta is here or not, it is really important for us to include our view and our voices in the public space, because this possibility could end,” said Pavel Arsenev, a poet and activist based in St. Petersburg. Mr. Arsenev, 28, came up with the popular antigovernment slogan “You don’t even represent us,” which in Russian also means, “You cannot even imagine us.”
Last month, as part of Manifesta, Mr. Arsenev organized a day of “poetic actions” in the city. On a Saturday morning, young volunteers wearing sandwich boards handed out poems by Bertolt Brecht at metro stations (“The way things are, won’t stay that way,” read one placard; “Who is responsible for the fact that oppression still exists?” read another). Later, in the shadow of the Peter and Paul Fortress — once home to an infamous political prison — Kirill Medvedev, a poet, singer and literary critic, read aloud from the poetry of political prisoners.Last month, as part of Manifesta, Mr. Arsenev organized a day of “poetic actions” in the city. On a Saturday morning, young volunteers wearing sandwich boards handed out poems by Bertolt Brecht at metro stations (“The way things are, won’t stay that way,” read one placard; “Who is responsible for the fact that oppression still exists?” read another). Later, in the shadow of the Peter and Paul Fortress — once home to an infamous political prison — Kirill Medvedev, a poet, singer and literary critic, read aloud from the poetry of political prisoners.
Waiting out a brief hailstorm on Arts Square, Anton Kuryshev said he had traveled from Moscow to attend the poetic actions. He was looking forward to hearing a speech originally delivered at the first congress of Soviet writers in 1934. “Now the situation is more like the ’30s maybe,” he said.Waiting out a brief hailstorm on Arts Square, Anton Kuryshev said he had traveled from Moscow to attend the poetic actions. He was looking forward to hearing a speech originally delivered at the first congress of Soviet writers in 1934. “Now the situation is more like the ’30s maybe,” he said.
Sergei Medvedev, a professor of political science at the Higher School of Economics in Moscow, said it was only natural that artists were staging performances in response to current events in Russia. “In the conditions of severely limited political freedom, when the opposition and the free press have been almost entirely eliminated, contemporary art has to step in,” Mr. Medvedev wrote in an email.Sergei Medvedev, a professor of political science at the Higher School of Economics in Moscow, said it was only natural that artists were staging performances in response to current events in Russia. “In the conditions of severely limited political freedom, when the opposition and the free press have been almost entirely eliminated, contemporary art has to step in,” Mr. Medvedev wrote in an email.
Of course the audience for contemporary art is small, said Ilya Orlov, a Russian artist who looked at historical memory and the fate of Soviet shrines to Lenin for Manifesta. “What we do is not important to the masses,” he said. “But it is our responsibility to present some opinions.”Of course the audience for contemporary art is small, said Ilya Orlov, a Russian artist who looked at historical memory and the fate of Soviet shrines to Lenin for Manifesta. “What we do is not important to the masses,” he said. “But it is our responsibility to present some opinions.”
Mr. Braila, the Moldovan artist, agreed, though he said he did get quite a bit of attention this summer when he fired an old-fashioned gun in front of several wedding parties on a St. Petersburg bridge as part of an artwork about the politics of time.Mr. Braila, the Moldovan artist, agreed, though he said he did get quite a bit of attention this summer when he fired an old-fashioned gun in front of several wedding parties on a St. Petersburg bridge as part of an artwork about the politics of time.
But in general, he does not expect his projects — in one he asked his mother to cook a traditional Moldovan meal for 70, which she sent by train from the Moldovan capital, Chisinau, to St. Petersburg, to show that human relationships transcend political borders — to attract much attention.But in general, he does not expect his projects — in one he asked his mother to cook a traditional Moldovan meal for 70, which she sent by train from the Moldovan capital, Chisinau, to St. Petersburg, to show that human relationships transcend political borders — to attract much attention.
“Maybe if we had a spot on national television and, like, two hours to explain everything,” Mr. Braila said. “But not so many people are interested in art.”“Maybe if we had a spot on national television and, like, two hours to explain everything,” Mr. Braila said. “But not so many people are interested in art.”