Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to update the font, size and more. To change and reuse text themes, go to Site Styles.
Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to update the font, size and more. To change and reuse text themes, go to Site Styles.
Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to update the font, size and more. To change and reuse text themes, go to Site Styles.
Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to update the font, size and more. To change and reuse text themes, go to Site Styles.
Futuro Antico. Interview with Alfredo Jaar
20 ott 2022
Marco Bassan
He defines himself as an illusionist; Alfredo Jaar's art is a reflection on the present time and its dynamics. But the future, from his point of view, is anything but magical.
What are your points of reference in art?
I think I became an artist the day I discovered Duchamp, particularly his Bicycle Wheel from 1913. That work, along with Fountain (the urinal from 1917), was the catalyst for the revolutionary progress of art and marked my initiation. We are all descendants of Duchamp. He allowed me to exercise the extraordinary freedom to do what I do—a hybrid of art and architecture, with a touch of utopian poetry. Shortly after that pivotal moment, I encountered the work of Hans Haacke, which quickly became a model for me.
In terms of cinema, my early references were Godard and Antonioni, but Pasolini was another fundamental influence that ignited my political awakening.
However, to be honest, there was also a long list of musicians and poets in my landscape during those early formative years, enlightening me.
Lastly, I must mention that for several years, before starting all this, I was a magician. I think deep down, I am still a magician. Magic has been a persistent source of inspiration and reference for me. I may be an architect who makes art, but I still think like an illusionist.
Which project represents you the most? Can you tell us about its genesis?
It has always been difficult for me—quite impossible, really—to define a single work that could represent my practice. However, if forced to choose, I think A Logo for America is probably the project with which most people identify me. The Ruanda project is perhaps the second closest.
When I moved to New York in 1982, I was shocked to discover that in the everyday language of this country, "America" meant the United States and not the entire continent. When you hear “Welcome to America” or “God Bless America,” they always refer solely to the United States. Coming from Chile, I have always thought of America as a continent and have always felt “American.” That's how Argentinians and Brazilians feel too—we are all “Americans.” I became aware of this semantic issue in early 1982, but it took me five years to finally respond with the creation of A Logo for America in 1987.
Tell us more about it.
This work is a modest and seemingly futile attempt to correct the erasure of the rest of the continent every time the word "America" is spoken. It’s an almost impossible task. Language is not innocent; it perfectly reflects a geopolitical reality. That reality in our continent is that the United States is a dominant force, financially, culturally, and militarily. This dominance, this supremacy, is reflected in their language. When I projected a logo for America in Times Square in New York, I described it as a small crack in the system. That was my ambition. I think it still is. Perhaps a tiny crack, but in the end, it is still a crack.
What is the importance of genius loci for you in your work?
For an architect, context is everything. I constantly react to the context in which I must exhibit. I have never created a work that is purely the result of my imagination; it is always a response to a reality in a specific context. The genius loci is everything.
This line of thought comes from my architectural training. As you can imagine, as an architect, you cannot even begin to think about a project without considering your context. Every context deserves attention and respect. This is my modus operandi: I will not act in the world until I understand the world.
This attitude is fundamental to my practice; I firmly believe that there is no single center of the world, but many centers, and they are all equally important. Once, a poet wrote that “only the mother tongue is spoken everywhere in the world.”
How important is the past for imagining and building the future? Do you believe the future can have an ancient heart?
There is no future without a past. When I seek the context of a place, I always examine the past to understand the present and imagine the future. The past is history, but it is also memory. I cannot imagine that we can invent the future without understanding the past. If the past is the foundation of our present, then the present is the foundation of our future.
What advice would you give to a young person who wants to follow your path?
Stop doing things. Stop doing things. Stop doing things. I have always believed that art is 99% thinking and 1% production. Stop doing things, look around, and understand your context. What is relevant here and now? For whom is it relevant? Who are you talking to? Try to answer these questions. Art is the answer to these questions, anywhere and everywhere.
Artists create models of thought about the world. That’s what we do. What kind of model would you like to create? The spaces of art and culture are the last remaining spaces of freedom. But they are fragile; they need care. It is a privilege to be free, but also a responsibility. Look at the state of the world. Politics has failed miserably. How can we make art when the world is in such a state? Answer this question responsibly, with creativity, imagination, generosity, and love. Teach us, teach me, to overcome our madness.
In an era defined by post-truth, does the concept of the sacred still hold importance and strength?
In the past, a person or an object was considered sacred when it was extraordinary or unique. Today, the meaning of sacred is different; it is usually used to define something worthy of religious veneration. I am not so interested in the sacred. I prefer what I call the sublime. A sublime object is one of exceptional spiritual, intellectual, or moral value. From its Latin origin to sublimate meant to convert something inferior into something superior and of greater value. I think that is exactly what we do as artists: we transform materials of lesser value into art, of greater value. This is what Arte Povera did, in an extraordinary and joyful way.
How do you envision the future? Could you give us three ideas that you think will guide the coming years?
I am simply an illusionist, not a futurist. I can only observe that we are living in very dark times. The war in Ukraine is a tragedy of unimaginable proportions, not just for Ukraine and Russia, but for the world. Only after a hundred days, nearly 10,000 lives have been lost, and more than 12 million people have been displaced. We have reached over 100 million refugees worldwide. Who is winning this war? The arms industry, particularly the military-industrial complex of the United States. After the withdrawal of American forces from Afghanistan, their sales have been slowed down. Now they are making billions. The media’s fixation on the invasion of Ukraine has made virtually invisible other conflicts around the world where a similar situation has been developing for years. I think of Yemen, South Sudan, Myanmar, Iraq, Afghanistan, Ethiopia, Syria, and Palestine. These are current and urgent conflicts. The list is endless if you add old unresolved conflicts. Just one example: the CIA-backed military coup in Chile financed by Nixon and Kissinger: 17 years of brutal military dictatorship, thousands of deaths, hundreds of thousands of exiles, and millions of shattered lives. Kissinger is a war criminal like Putin and many others. But you can still see him celebrating around town. The logic is obscene: when Putin does it, he is a war criminal. When we do it, the party must continue. And the complicity of the media is never lacking; their docility is revolting.
And what can be done?
What can be done? In response to a journalist's question: “What do you think of Western civilization?” Mahatma Gandhi replied, “I think it would be a good idea.” Perhaps it is finally time to create an authentic world civilization for our dying planet, a world civilization based on solidarity and sharing a common destiny. The current social and political order of the world is based on barbarism, greed, hypocrisy, injustice, inequality, intolerance, and violence. Civilization would indeed be a good idea.