Practice in critical times: a conversation with Gregory Sholette, Stephanie Smith, Temporary Services, and Jacqueline Terrassa

Dan S. Wang

Inclusive of activist and socially engaged approaches, the term "critical" signifies a broad range of art making. Sometimes object- or display-oriented, sometimes interactive or performative, sometimes consisting of curatorial work, a critical practice may draw from multiple formal and technical traditions, even within the confines of a single work or project. The linking of representational value to a given project's social impact (either opposed or in addition to its visual impact) has led critics and artists to reach for new descriptive terms for these ways of working: relational aesthetics and service art. (1) What critical practices share is a fundamental aspiration: to present questions and challenges about the way the world is, the ways we perceive it, and the ways in which we can act in it. These questions or challenges might be presented in general terms or with respect to a particular social detail or situation. This aspiration can be described as inherently critical, because the inescapable implica tion is that a world with different social arrangements, behaviors, or both is possible. Thus, critical practices are always in a basic sense politicized, irrespective of topical specificity.

The present is a meaningful moment for the examination of critical art practice for at least two reasons. First, the rise of critical art practice in its service-oriented form mirrors the growth in the overall economy of service industries. Just as the deregulated economy has necessitated a disloyalty to corporations on the part of workers of all skill levels, the narrowing of avenues for arts funding and dissemination has forced cultural producers into a more independent mode. At the level of the job market, service art in fact could be considered a consequence of the same economy responsible for the swelling ranks of food service workers, domestics, and information technology consultants. In that sense, practitioners of critical art are contributing models for sustainable, independent practice that may become increasingly useful as the general economy further marginalizes certain broad sectors of workers. Second, the generalized social critique implicit in critical art practice regroups a range of specific or localized issues once the exclusive domain of feminists, environmentalists, people of color, or some other "special interest group." This, too, reflects the larger currents in radical and progressive political action, which, especially since the Seattle anti--World Trade Organization demonstrations of 1999, have visibly and intentionally blended any number of formerly fractured causes. Practitioners of critical art are among those most attuned to the developing possibilities for political solidarities almost unthinkable even ten years ago.

Stephanie Smith, associate curator at the David and Alfred Smart Museum of Art on the campus of the University of Chicago, organized the show Critical Mass to highlight the importance of this moment. Seeking to clarify the meanings and potentials of current critical art practices, Smith used this show to move the Smart away from museum and toward laboratory. Realizing that a strict survey approach would not be possible without paralyzing the perpetual fluidity of such practice, Smith and the Smart's education director, Jacqueline Terrassa, designed the show as a study in the cross-fertilizations and parallels that emerge when separate critical practices evolve in close proximity over time. Limited to works by Chicago-based practitioners, the show consisted of interactive projects, off-site displays, public events, material giveaways, instant access to artists and curators, and a gallery exhibition. Together, Smith and Terrassa programmed an accompanying free-form "anti-symposium" to encourage contact and disc ussion among viewers, participating artists, and a number of invited critics. Critical Mass embraced the tensions between institutional and public space, museum convention and audience participation, didacticism and playfulness. The awareness and productive exploitation of these tensions is central to the practices of the exhibition's participants. They are Wendy Jacob, Laurie Palmer, Robert Peters, Gregory Sholette, and the group Temporary Services.

Shortly before installation of the show began in earnest, Sholette and the three members of Temporary Services--Brett Bloom, Salem Collo-Julin, and Marc Fischer--joined Smith and Terrassa for a wide-ranging discussion held over two sessions in which I--an interested observer and colleague who has maintained ongoing conversations with a number of the participants-moderated and asked leading questions.

Sholette is best known for his work as a cofounder of RBPOhistory, an artist and activist collective whose public sign projects dot the street posts of New York, marking places of significance in the histories of marginalized peoples. Temporary Services presents the work of others, disseminates ideas in written form, and executes projects of its own. All three elements were combined in the group's Library Project from 2001, in which the group inserted into Chicago's Harold Washington Library an unauthorized gift of a hundred curated "necessary" volumes--artists' books, 'zines, and manuals, some unique, others massproduced, some purely textual, others wholly composed of illustrations. The same spirit of play, critique, and social action is evident in the group's Public Sculpture Opinion Poll from 2000, in which an abstract sculpture owned by the city of Chicago was subjected to the intelligent or profane (and sometimes both) interpretations of anonymous passersby, solicited through unmanned clipboards placed near the sculpture.

Dan S. Wang: I have a question about the exhibition. It's not meant aggressively but just seems like it's begging to be asked. If Critical Mass is a show about critical or activist or socially engaged art practices, then why don't any of these projects address what seems to be a really obvious issue that the host institution (the University of Chicago) has been struggling with for over four decades? I'm thinking about the local history of this institution and the role it's played in negotiating the neighborhood's racial divide--often enforcing it, but occasionally trying to bridge it and, either way, acting only to serve its interests. To put it more positively, if the show's component projects do not directly address issues of race relations, then aren't you missing a unique opportunity to make an impact?

Stephanie Smith: It's not so much about a missed opportunity but rather about establishing a continuing process, a history of projects. At some point that might include exhibitions that could get at those issues about the way the university relates to its community. Also, the initial premise wasn't put forward as inviting a group of artists to come do explicit institutional critique; the show and the artists take other approaches.

Gregory Sholette: It's a reasonable question, but there's a history of site-specific practice which is, I think, the subtext of the question. The question focuses on a certain kind of engaged work--using site-specific practice to do things which might include simply talking about the physical space of a museum or moving all the way toward a practice that could pull in this question about racial inequities in the area. One wants to move toward those things in a cautious way. The underlying question is whether site-specificity is the default idea for what an art activism practice would be. Jumping too quickly into a situation that's so loaded...can be real counterproductive, especially for someone relatively new to Chicago such as myself. With time that becomes a possibility.

Marc Fischer: But there are little things that, when taken together, result in a host of institutional practices being taken to task. Or can be interpreted as having created new tools that can be used by activists around a certain issue. For example, one thing that everyone in the show is excited about is the idea of having a hotline with instant access to one of the artists or Stephanie or Jackie. And for the duration of the show, some artist will always be on call [via cell phone] as a respondent, to answer questions, give information....

Brett Bloom: We're insisting on a kind of accountability that you don't get with other kinds of exhibitions. There's very little dialogue around more traditional exhibitions. This is a way of trying to give people immediate access to ask questions or to challenge the artists. Harass us. Hopefully we'll get some nice crank calls. Some of the work is about inserting democracy where it doesn't exist. We have certain projects that look like activism, and you could call it that, but it seems more complex.

Wang: But that isn't activist in the strict sense of actually exercising political pressure. I understand the symbolic significance of having an artist-on-call hotline during the show as an effort to undo the customary remoteness of the artist. But is the hope here to raise the expectations of audiences, so that they'll go to other museums of contemporary art and demand a live, on-call channel for feedback?

[laughter]

Fischer: Oh, that'd be nice!

Smith: It may be a terrible idea. Laurie Palmer was not as excited by the idea because she hates the constant accessibility represented by cell phones--the fact that you can be reached all the time.

Salem Collo-Julin: To me it's a big deal to ask anybody to see something in a museum when they're neither an artist nor directly connected to the museum or the university. I see a lot of it as coming down to class. The stuff that you're talking about in race terms--for me, really it's more important to talk about class with the same questions. A common frustration happens when artists and curators assume that their personal experience is the experience of all who will view the work they are promoting. This attitude comes mostly from the idea that American middle-class values are the touchstone from which all else should be judged. This is a false assumption that excludes those who don't share the experiences of the middle class. I wouldn't say that we're always consciously raising the issue, but in little things that work to increase accessibility, like the cell phones, that comes across.

Jacqueline Terrassa: My ideas about issues of race, class, and experience with art institutions are implemented at the level of the museum's educational program for primary- and secondary-school children. What is the philosophy driving the school program? How am I addressing these kids--many of whom are neither white nor middle-class--and these teachers? How can it be equitable and meaningful, and what does it mean for them to come in the museum? I ask these questions of myself and my staff all the time, though just asking the questions is not enough. The one thorn of the process from my point of view actually has been the issue of race and diversity. In programming the symposium accompanying the Critical Mass show, we easily identified potential participants who were primarily male and white, and perhaps from different classes. But the nagging question is why, why is this happening, even in the context of an exhibition about critical art practice? Is there a self-replicating problem going on here?

Smith: And not just race and class, but also age, or insider versus outsider status within the institution and the community Some of these different kinds of relationships--not all, but some--get explored in this show. But I don't think any of us can claim that our practices will definitely shape the life of an institution after we're there.

Bloom: That's a nice thing about this exhibition. We have multiple generations represented, which is really fucking great. So many exhibitions are fiat in terms of the age group.

Wang: And with the two of you, Stephanie and Jackie, holding these institutional positions, and yet all of the participants feeling like you're colleagues ... within the context of art world activity, you're breaking down these older distinctions between roles.

Smith: Trying to. Those class distinctions are ridiculous and they're changing, but traditionally, within art museums, walls have existed between efforts that are classified as curatorial versus those that are labeled educational. Jackie and I work together closely. Our day-to-day efforts and our friendship make it possible for us to tackle messy projects like this one that don't fit into expected categories. When we do it well, we can open things up a bit for the museum, the artists, the audience.

Wang: It seems that you, Stephanie, have walked a really careful and productive line in this case: you've presented your authority as a curator--as the one who selects--to those who need it (e.g., explaining the show to the museum's governing board) while reserving or relinquishing your authority in other ways, which resulted in an easily evident level of trust and camaraderie shared with the show's participants. In organizing this show, you, Jackie, and the participants met together regularly for months to discuss the possibilities. That is clearly very unusual.

Smith: There's a pretty intense process of negotiation that happens. It's not about having my fully formed idea that I'm presenting to you, take it or leave it. You know, there's this messy process of having a starting point, and over the course of many conversations and working together, getting someplace over here. The trajectory isn't clear or driven by a desire to impose my institutional position on a group of works or practices.

Fischer: Creating exhibitions should be this place of enormous freedom, and I think that what we see in other exhibits usually doesn't reflect that. It reflects things being done in a similar way over and over again out of habit, out of custom, out of fear that if you do it differently maybe people won't show up or it won't get critically recognized. I think once you get past these initial challenges, and this exhibit becomes part of the museum's history, it seems like it would leave an opening. The feeling I get working with everyone on this exhibit is that there's an active desire to expand the possibilities of what the Smart can allow as an exhibit. There's a strong sense of us working together to really stretch what this place can hold. Then the Smart could eventually do something like what Temporary Services is extremely passionate about--including people who have nothing to do with the arts in an exhibit structure, Vital experimentation exists in all fields, but most exhibits maintain a separate space f or art rather than allowing art to intersect with creativity in other areas of life.

Wang: Brett and Salem went to New York to demonstrate at the World Economic Forum gathering. In previous conversations Brett has mentioned having an interest in some kind of semi--self-sufficient living. I wanted to expand the discussion to include those kinds of goals that will never fit in a museum because they're just about life. What kinds of power do you need in order to realize your goals? We all have educations. We also have a strong and growing international network of like-minded people and groups. What else?

Fischer: I don't think we need to have much of any power at all. We find strategies for working that are within our means and that we can accomplish.

Bloom: We don't defer to power structures and we don't acknowledge them. If we're not given opportunities by institutions, we're still producing our own work. In terms of what we do, it was just this realization that you can take action, and you don't need permission. A lot of work in museums appears natural, as a consequence of an art-world system that's accepted without challenge. Temporary Services posits a challenge to the way artists are articulated within the museum and within the art world. We operate from a conscious sense of the power structures at work within the art world specifically, but also generally within our culture, and we're constantly interrogating those. That's in sync with challenging things as vast as the World Economic Forum. They're two nodes of a single strategy.

Terrassa: I wonder, how or when does somebody arrive at the point where you don't have to ask for permission?

Bloom: It's a basic pedagogical thing and something that I try to give to my students. I tell them, you have these famous arts heroes who are lauded, but you can tell them you think their art is crap, you can say it right to their faces. You can challenge people who have negative things to say about your own work. You can create opportunities for yourself. You can write about your own work, You can curate. It's a way of mirroring the art world and creating a structure you think is different and better.

Fischer: We find that often the process of getting permission to do things results in such a slowdown, so much compromise, so much needless debate. You could either spend two years working on something and go through official channels and maybe get proper funding and proper permission or figure out a clever, inexpensive, direct way of just doing the damn thing and turning to other things after six months, We work at a fast clip, and it's because there's this feeling of urgency. If we want to work with somebody on a project, then fuck all that, we want to work with this person now!

[laughter]

Wang: Could I extend what you're saying and describe your working philosophy as a rejection, of reformist strategies? That you are not asking somebody else to do something for you, you re not asking somebody else to accommodate you--you're just creating the necessary space yourself

Sholette: What you may be pointing to is this notion of "autonomy." Not in a modernist sense, where an object is self-contained, and self-referencing, and so forth. But in the sense that one exercises agency and valorizes one's own activity. It doesn't require an outside legitimating force to give you power to do that, such as a museum, a university corporation, or a state. From the point of view of pedagogy, a lot of the work in this show produces if not actual, interactive engagement then at least a model of what it might be. Having been a curator of education at the New Museum in New York, my practice has consistently involved issues of pedagogy, and I guess I've always seen art as very intertwined with that--even to the point where I don't have a problem with work that's didactic, which is a term that people often find, you know, sort of repulsive!

[laughter]

Collo-Julin: Coming more recently to issues of visual culture than the others in Temporary Services, I see parallels between the way that we work and the way that some activist groups I've been involved in work, in terms of how you make these decisions. There are lots of different ways of being an activist, different ways of accomplishing the same goal, and I see Temporary Services as basically doing the same thing: figuring out the best way to do something. For every project that we've done, we've had this discussion about, you know, is this person a person we want to work with, and do we need their expertise? And also, do we accept funding from organizations whose policies conflict with our personal ethics, like, say, Philip Morris funding the Museum of Contemporary Art's performance series?

Wang: It sounds like Temporary Services doesn't have a governing ideology, that you re cautious about representing a specific political program or analysis.

Bloom: I think doing so is totally antithetical to our needs. Ideologies, including anarchism, are always limits to a more robust understanding of the world. Ideologies get in the way of freedom and direct communication. People square off and defend their turf We want to open up the possibilities of human social organizing. Aesthetic practice is a radical tool in this regard. We are not interested in replicating the power structures we find within the art world and throughout our lives. We don't want to replicate the hierarchical abuses of, for instance, museums which are based on corporate models--the type of structure most antithetical to radical democracy We know that art doesn't have to be experienced under these conditions and don't want to repeat this model.

Sholette: In a larger framework, it's interesting to consider the notion of collaborative authorship having a single ideological perspective versus a multiple, pragmatic perspective. It's a shift that you can see between early-twentieth-century practices, such as Constructivism and Futurism, compared to those from more recent times (say from the postwar period onward) . . . that you go from a unifying idea within the politicized avant-garde model to one where there's a multiplicity of ideas that occur within a given group. And there's not the policing of perspectives within a group or against differences or ideologies. As far as I'm concerned, I'm constantly trying to define and redefine for myself what it means to be an artist, and I've arrived at a place where I live between writing and doing theory, and making things, teaching, and sometimes organizing. It's not a classic model of what an artist does, I think. Some people call this "poststudio" practice. Am I ideologically driven? I probably am more so tha n Temporary Services. I don't think I'm orthodox or dogmatic, but I do look at things in terms of economics and class--a Marxist-inspired class analysis of how things work... with a little bit of deconstruction thrown in!

Fischer: I get the feeling that there's this perception about our work, that it's seen as hyperaggressive just because we present the art and ideas of others without reverting to commercial gallery structures and traditions.

Wang: And you don't feel like you are?

Fischer: Well ... well...! [laughter]

Fischer: Well, yeah! In talking about most of the work out there, yeah, we're ridiculously critical and despise everything! But in terms of actually doing the projects and working with people, it's more like just trying to figure out what feels right, or what's the best way to help someone present their ideas.

Smith: One of the invisible links among our practices is something Jackie was talking about at the beginning and that I try to hold onto as much as possible, which is to have some self-reflective and ethical consideration of how the small actions that make up the ways we lead our professional lives can resonate both in the end product and in relation to other social situations. That's an ideal, it's not always possible to live up to that, but it's important at least occasionally to catch yourself and go back to that point.

Wang: But capitalism does not allow much space for ethically determined practices. It's a complex system which, simply put, tends to commodify everything. It's a challenge to pursue life according to other values. It seems like the two of you, Jackie and Stephanie, have decided that basing your professional activity in an institution allows for some of this insertion of ethically determined decisions.

Terrassa: Having a steady job within an institution allows Anthony (Elms, my husband--he's an independent curator and the editor of the artists' publication WhiteWalls) and Ito do projects we would not be able to afford if both of us had unstable incomes. On a very practical level, that's definitely why I'm there. But I have also found that working within an institutional structure offers certain human, intellectual, and financial resources, including an established audience.

Bloom: I would say that Temporary Services is institutionalized in a certain way. That's something we're conscious of to some extent. We're not totally devoid of similar pressures.

Terrassa: There is a pressure. The more shows you get invited to, all of a sudden you are part of a global marketplace of that kind of collaborative, activist, tactical work. And what do you do about that?

Fischer: Maybe not a marketplace, but...

Bloom: An international art circuit or whatever...

Smith: In conversations about the artist Dan Peterman's practice, Greg has raised this idea of parasitical practices and the possibilities inherent in moving at the edges of given systems. That's a useful model. It's key for all of us to be savvy about the ways that institutional power can absorb energies that are put into it with very good intent and to see the ways our projects also serve institutional needs. Over the past twenty years, for instance, there have been certain moments when it's been trendy for museums to acknowledge activist practices.

Sholette: Artists who work in what they perceive to be a space outside institutional structures often think that institutions, such as museums or universities, are already structured, and there's a clear agenda. When you work inside an institution, however, you usually discover that in fact agendas are often multiple and even contradictory. Power is often diffused in all kinds of ways, from simple wasting of money to redundancy to someone's whim for creating some program. So there's this idea that the institution operates with a military precision that moves in a very negative way toward the opposition--me and you--and that's not the case. Yes, dearly, there is institutional power. But it just isn't always focused in an easily identifiable way, which opens up spaces for potential, limited opposition.

Wang: A final question. I agree with the social theorist Immanuel Wallerstein, who argues that we're entering an extended period of global instability. Many contradictions are becoming increasingly acute.... That means there will be more and more crises. In times of crises, the impact of any kind of social action gets amplified. Depending on what they do, small numbers of people can tip the balance, and I think that's going to become increasingly clear. Temporary Services is a good example of a small group of people who started doing some things and created their own way of working . . . and that is becoming more influential in ways that you maybe never expected. So I feel that it's an important time to think about how critical practices impact the way things will go. Given your experiences and the state of this country and the world, what is your prognosis?

Sholette: I think there are some really good things happening. Temporary Services is one of a number of groups around the world showing a wonderful energy, good ethics, and a strong idea of where they want to go and who are not burdened by a lot of ideological checklists inherited from other times. That's a really useful thing, and there seems to be space for that to happen. For example, when you see these anti--WTO demonstrations and find that art groups like these are participating in this opposition in a direct way. Particularly since May '68, culture has moved to the center of a certain kind of leftist political engagement, even within most political parties. Having said all this, however, I feel that we tend to overestimate what art can do in any given situation. Ah at the same time, I think we're in a very dangerous moment. Especially with only one superpower in the world, the situation is as dangerous as it s been since the height of the Cold War. If ever artists were called upon to pull their collecti ve heads out of the art-world desert, this is that moment.

Fischer: I think things always generally look grim and one way to respond to that is to work much harder finding people you can communicate with, have exchanges with, and work with all over the place--these dialogues make things seem less miserable. It allows you to have a richer life, to help others assert their own ideas, and to create this independent but global system of support which is based on some shared values. Too often people are encouraged to compete. We want to work with the people whose ideas we admire. We want to contribute to our culture in that active way. What else can you do?

Terrassa: Probably the thing that concerns me the most is the notion that people are not critical. Like the response to September 11 th. The visible response was flag-waving, but I don't know how many people quietly questioned what was going on. But there wasn't any voice for that questioning. That troubles me.

Bloom: In this culture there's enormous apathy because people are relatively comfortable and don't have to question their leaders. They have a comfortable-enough life that they're not going to go out and directly challenge these power structures. Coupled with what Jackie said, this apathy, and then since September 11th the attempt to criminalize dissent... the power of the Right is immense right now.

Smith: But to pull a couple of threads together and also get back to this permission thing--one thing that seems heartening is the possibility of taking the energies that come out of your networks, the debate and discussion, and the possibility of collaboration on a more personal level out into the public arena.

Collo-Julin: Just look at the way the Indymedia phenomenon exploded. .. . Not just websites but storefronts and publications is are happening in cities all over the world. The challenge is for people within all different realms--within arts, within sciences--to work on these matters and make it their responsibility to find like-minded people. It's an outstanding time to be thinking about these issues. It is a different movement than that of the Sixties. I mean, there's documentation about people basically going to antiwar protests and love-ins just to get laid, [laughter]

Wang: Activism is perhaps no longer as universally linked to an image alternately dowdy and transgressive as it once was, maybe a generation ago, and this delinking is a positive development.

Fischer: Right. Differences between subcultures were more immediately apparent in the past. It was easier to locate people with similar values. Now it requires more research and dialogue. The network is less obvious.

Wang: That's plenty of discussion. Thanks for doing this.

Fischer: It's sad--once you're done working on a show you have to figure out a new way to get the dialogue going again.

Smith: I'm going to go into withdrawal, We can have reunion meetings just to talk.

Fischer: No reunions! We're going to ask you to do projects and force you to take part. That's the way to perpetuate this stuff.

(1.) Nato Thompson. "Until It's Gone: Taking Stock of Chicago's Multi-use Centers," New Art Examiner 29, no. 4 (March-April 2002): 47-53, and Andrea Fraser, What's Intangible, Transitory, Mediating, Participatory, and Rendered in the Public Sphere?" October 80 (spring 1997): 111-16.

Gregory Sholette is an artist and writer, and the chair of the Masters in Arts Administration Program at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, as well as cofounder of the artists' groups REPOhistory and PAD/D: Political Art Documentation and Distribution.

Stephanie Smith is associate curator at the David and Alfred Smart Museum of Art at the University of Chicago.

Temporary Services is a group currently consisting of three individuals. They are Brett Bloom, Salem Collo-julin. and Marc Fischer. Their projects and texts are on the Web at temporaryservices.org

Jacqueline Terrassa is the education director at the David and Alfred Smart Museum of Art. She has an M.F.A. from the University of Chicago.

Dan S. Wang is an artist and writer who lives and works in Chicago. His writings have appeared in New Art Examiner, ARTasiapacific. and the journal of the Mid-America Print Council.

COPYRIGHT 2003 College Art Association
COPYRIGHT 2003 Gale Group