It's a shame to be a worker.
I would like to make a project dedicated to such a phenomenon, local in Belarus, as a worker. Actually, in a country where the state system is declared as socialism, there should be a positive image of the working man. But the artist finds himself in a trap when trying to sing about labor: either he becomes a follower of the authorities and an agent of dictatorial propaganda, or he is forced to take a critical look at the situation of hired labor, condemning the direct or subtle and quite sophisticated exploitation. The project will be made in the form of an exhibition with a lot of kraft - manual labor, which also discredits art - talking about the prevalence of craft labor over a sparkling idea or an easy gesture of art. The pictorial format of the "made" paintings, it seems to me, can quite strangely play on the situation in which, under socialism, the worker feels shame, shame for the lowliness of his position. This shame of a strange nature is not quite understandable and not easy to explain. Belarusian workers inherited the visual baggage of Soviet heroism, of labor depicted in factories and plants. Post-industrialism has eaten the factories, turned them into zones of rent and new creative business, and workers have returned in a different context, not as "masters", but in a different role. The shame of presence or the shame of irrelevance and not understanding one's place creates an interesting visual context that I would like to follow. The tracking is certainly in the format of contemplation of a kind of painting, a painting of "transparency," a painting of an absent language. This painting, coming out of institutes and colleges, incapable of an independent life, is in a similar position as the worker. This painting or this pictorial language is also connected to socialism, to social art as such. But this connection is lost and warped, just as the understanding of the worker's place is warped. Without delving into the history of "bad" painting, one can see that its language is related to the subject I chose for the project. Painting from a phone photo is also a format of not being immersed in the material "up to my ears."
A woman taking laundry orders, a worker at the Horizon factory, a worker at the soap factory working at the same factory, people on the bus to and from work, Positive colors on the bus to make it more fun to go to work, whether to the office, or the market, or other soul-searching, bread-making activities. I want to see a person there, I want a portrait, not of a heroic or critical person, but just a contemplative one. I want to be a witness to something that can only be seen at a distance from what is happening.
There is, in my opinion, no need to theorize about this kind of project until the art itself is done. It's just an introduction to the beginning and the possibility of cooperation with a gallery. I don't know if you as gallery owners would be interested in such a project, but I would like to paint about 20 paintings and give a "union of artists" on purpose, to involve into the discussion specialists from our academies, floating in parallel worlds of near-art. An odd suggestion, to be sure. There is also theoretical support for it, which I will send in the future and, at this stage, I will send some sketches.
The Human Condition.
For PARAZIT, the exhibition "The Human Condition" is yet another big project. Big in our terminology means going beyond the traditional corridor exhibitions. Of course, we arrive at this name and title because of Victor Misiano's large-scale project of the same name, which is currently underway. In turn, the project takes its name from Hannah Arendt's book, which also bears the same title. Since all of these titles are translations, we would like to understand the essence of the title itself. "The human condition" can be translated literally, or "the state of humanity". I find the play of corresponding titles or equal names interesting. The duplicates of the title are a reasonable repetition of never-aging meanings. How can you even give a name to an exhibition, the name of the exhibition is only an auxiliary tool with no global role. Naming an exhibition and making it are different things. That is why names play a minor role here, and exact coincidences or repetitive titles seem to actualize those themes which, in fact, always remain eternal and their permanent appearance cannot and should not be a novelty. So why does PARAZIT call its exhibition "The Human Condition"? What is the point of repeating and duplicating the project? It seems to me the point is the same as creating a certain amount of confusion, precisely confusing. Just as brand names are spoofed in hopes of passing on someone else's already passable business card - be it a firm, or a persona, or a group. Counterfeiting just creates that other similar shape in appearance. Our exhibition is in some ways a counterfeit exhibition. We forge the "human condition," but we do not observe those formal signs which could be seen in the Moscow project. It is a forgery in the realm of the information field. And the desire to try on someone else's name is a matter for understanding one's own name. So we take someone else's sound name. It is impossible to get a hold of Hannah Arend's book "The Human Condition" online, it has been completely overridden by information about the upcoming project and there is an interesting phenomenon in this too - how one name overrides and replaces the first. The PARAZIT's "The Human Condition" is the answer to a question that remains unformulated for us, what kind of organization we are, what are the reasons for our collective cooperation, and what are the lines of intersection of our interests. No one chooses us based on the principle of suitable works, there is no curatorial view and no selection. There is no limitation or pressure for participants of PARAZIT, so it is up to the author to choose. But it turns out that there is no escaping from oneself and that it is difficult to remake oneself; the effort to reshape oneself is unsuccessful. This is rather a period of movement before the moment when a person agrees with himself, agrees with his character and his path and role in his life and in the life of society. It is through the example of PARAZIT Collective Activity that I see a model for the coexistence of different people and different authors. And there is not some kind of fatalism and doom here, there is such a reality. In this exhibition, we are trying to understand whether we are hiding behind our works, or whether we are dragging them along with us all our lives. Do we push them like a shield in front of us, or do we drag them behind us like a piece of luggage. Since there will be an artist next to each work, I see a situation where the viewer can determine this state of affairs. Where there is more art, in the work or in the artist himself, and how it is interconnected. Finally, it seems to me that the situation with the human condition is still somewhat biased, since it is the artists, not the humans, who talk about the human condition. The artist is very much concerned with the representation of his idea, with his own activity with which he is intimately connected, not at all like a person who has no such activity or profession, with which he grows up and becomes related. That's why in one way or another the exhibition, any exhibition, this exhibition is a reflection of artists. I would call our exhibition "The human condition of artists". Nothing human is alien to artists, but their way of thinking through art distorts their sense of human drama. It seems to me that there is a distortion on the scales where the artist measures and relates himself to his work, a distortion that makes it impossible to grasp the role and issues of the individual, both private and collective, in the course of history over the course of his life.