Celebrations of national pride usually revolt me with their invention of nationhood as a form of nostalgia and their parading of ersatz symbols of so called collective culture. Worse! They also create a forum for nationalist extremism and the normalisation of bigotry hidden behind a pathetic patriotism.
If the saccharine tabloid sentimentality of the forthcoming royal Swedish marriage has you singing Sex Pistol lyrics or mumbling about Cromwell, Danton and Jefferson. If you feel that the word love has been hijacked by yellow press mock sensationalism and begin to fear that nationalist sentimentality may never end. There is hope. Check out http://www.lovetensta.se/.
Multicultural, a word that should be confined to history. Overused, poorly used and used as gloss, the word is most often applied as an excuse for not wanting to tackle straight on issues of ethnicity and diversity, particularly those including potential conflict.
Estate agents see artists as their best friends, pioneers willing to venture into the danger zones of suburban sprawl bringing class and culture in their wake. The artist as a colonist, a missionary or evangelist, the curator as colonial officer!
1966 was an extraordinary year for culture. Bergman’s Persona, Warhol’s Chelsea Girls, Richard Hamilton at the Tate, Oldenburg’s Soft Bathtub, Primary Structures at the Jewish Museum, the opening of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf and Yvonne Rainer performs Trio A for the first time.
Lina Issa is talking about her work at Iaspis. The audience sipping mint tea listens as she begins to tell about her experiences of taking on other peoples lives. In neat and concise terms she explains that she put out an ad inviting anybody to apply if they would like to swap their lives with hers, at least for a while, and that tonight we could hear her and their stories.
In 1949 with much of the world in ruins, millions dead, and the world still in shock at its own inhumanity the German born sociologist Theodor Adorno wrote that "to write a poem after Auschwitz is barbaric".
I was given a copy of a new book last week called “New Communities” a collection of essays edited by Nina Möntmann, an investigation of the art, artist groups, collectives and practices that resulted from symposia in Toronto and Stockholm. The text intrigued me as it addresses in some ways, issues that are central to our practice at Tensta Konsthall.
February is the cruelest month breeding inanity from the dead waves. Mixing bigotry and desire, stirring dull roots with winter snow. In February the culture pages of the major newspapers in Sweden suddenly succumb to ‘news’ of the Eurovision Song Contest.
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