Bernadette Lynch
23 Nov, 14:44
To whom: Dmitry Vilensky, Pablo Helguera, Suzana Milevska
Dear friends
What struck me upon reading your three very good and reflective letters was first, that despite the gloomy forecast of the lockdowns, the pandemic cannot be an excuse for inaction. Secondly, that you are already indirectly suggesting, in your letters, ways to avoid inaction. And thirdly, in answer to the original questions on participation, what we may be witnessing here, in these letters, is when participation is transcended and solidarity begins.
Your letters speak, as Dmitry puts it, of «social disintegration, lack of air, cynicism and loss». But this is not only in Russia, Dmitry. Fear, isolation, regret, frustration and powerlessness run through the three letters, as they do throughout virtually all communications right now. One could call this a worldwide existential despair. As Dmitry points out, «Chto Delat have been countering these tendencies for 17 years. And every time you feel like starting from scratch».
I say, no need to start from scratch. We are always learning and building upon previous struggles in the democratization of our practices, and our societies.
There are also some profoundly positive aspects to your letters. Your communications reveal the close interpersonal connection of a global experience that we all now share — one that is a great leveler. One feels oneself to be in the room with all three of you, writing, as Suzana so nicely puts it, like «pen-pals». You are paying attention to yourselves and to others—in this case, your far-flung colleagues. We are all here bearing witness to each other's intimate feelings of being caught in this shared moment in the world
Philosopher and political activist, Simone Weil, thought of this notion of attention to one another's experience aslove, «for just as attention acknowledges the existence of another, love requires the recognition of a reality outside of the self» (Weil 1966: 130). For Weil, this loving solidarity is central to social justice.
bel hooks put it this way:
The moment we choose to love we begin to move against domination, against oppression. The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom, to act in ways that liberate ourselves and others. That action is the testimony of love as the practice of freedom.
Here, in these letters, we have three very experienced practitioners from different parts of the world, very well-practiced in the «art of participation», feeling the loss of your practice, your active agency. Yet, I believe you are in fact demonstrating something very important (something essential to our would-be discussion in St Petersburg)—you are demonstrating solidarity as the connective tissue between humans wherever and in whatever difficult circumstances they find themselves (Lynch 2020). This connection between people collaborating is so powerful when it exists in a conscious way, and so limiting when it does not, when it is in fact, «participation-lite».
So, let's look at «participation», that ubiquitous buzzword, central to our discussion.
Much participatory practice has been criticised as essentially flawed, providing an illusion of participation while, in reality, consensual decisions tend to be coerced, or rushed through on the basis of the artist's or the institution's control of creative/knowledge production and its dissemination, or on the basis of a funding agenda, thereby manipulating consensus on what is inevitable, usual or expected (Graham 2013; Lynch and Alberti, 2010; Lynch 2011a; 2011c; Lynch 2019; Lynch 2020; Marstine 2011; Sandell and Nightingale 2012).
Despite good intentions, participation is not always the democratic process it claims to be; rather, it more frequently reflects the agendas of the institution where the processes are in fact tightly controlled (Fouseki 2010; Lynch 2011a).
Too often in our participatory practice we inadvertently avoid the discomfort of actual participation through something else: co-option.It is the very ambiguity of participation, citizenship, and empowerment that have made them vulnerable to appropriation for political agendas; differently positioned users put very different versions of these concepts to use.
When I wrote Whose Cake is it Anyway? (Lynch 2011a),following my UK-wide study on behalf of the Paul Hamlyn Foundation, I had reviewed the effectiveness of public engagement and participation in the UK's museums. The study showed that, despite best intentions, participation in the cultural arts sector frequently runs into direct conflict between funder expectations and participant aspirations.
In the course of my subsequent research, numerous instances could be cited that epitomise the pitfalls within genuine attempts at fostering a collaborative relationship with people in our practice, one that is ethical, democratic, participatory, reciprocal and allows for genuine challenge and debate.
The product (an exhibition or programme) may look good, but the relationship too often does not.
One recurring element of this breakdown of communication is the institutional (and individual) discomfort with, and consequent avoidance of, conflict (Lynch 2017c). A rights-based approach to collaboration must enable those whose lives are affected the most (by oppression or injustice) to articulate their priorities and to make change happen.
The so-called «activist institution» is not the same as a commitment to activism embedded within a rights-based practice that facilitates people's right to express themselves—sometimes angrily—and act towards social change—and therefore hope.
The point here is not that the artist's or arts institutions' role in generating awareness of social and environmental injustice, and human rights abuses, is not important. It is that the artist, project or institution cannot, at the same time, lose sight of the critical importance of people's own active agency—something that is so easily, and inadvertently undone under the name of participation. For example, Pablo, your Instituto de la Telenovela, your first «socially engaged project», which, you say, served as a research project exploring the impact of the Mexican soap opera industry in Eastern Europe. I want to ask if the research was co-produced?
Co-researching is a wide-open field of collaboration and solidarity, one from which participants are too often excluded, finding themselves more frequently, «the researched». It is another element— a lack but also an opportunity—in terms of transforming what we commonly understand as «participation».
So, what is to be done to improve participation, to avoid the participation trap?
I have already mentioned a commitment to people's active agency, and to overcoming the fear of conflict. But there is another stumbling block.
Too often, institutions and collaborative projects continue to be non-reflective, thus in effect exercising a paternalism that undermines people's self-empowerment.
The only way up and out of this rabbit-hole is through a commitment to ongoing collaborative, critical reflective practice (Lynch 2011b). This collaborative reflective practice is central to learning, and absolutely central to breaking through—moving from participation-lite to active solidarity—in which the collaborators develop their voice as «critical friends».
I want to ask you Dmitry how much collaborative, critical reflection may be embedded in the School of Engaged Art? You speak of the seven years running your educational platform at Chto Delat and add that, «I hope that we managed to 'indoctrinate' more than 150 people who now share this feeling of lonely struggle». This sounds less like participation and more like solidarity. Is this a true depiction?
You remark Dmitry, that you see Chto Delat by now as «a community which seriously has shaped the whole alternative local scene», and you add that, «we care about it and somehow it works—at least we got a substantial number of people with whom you could keep a quality and intimate relations—personal and professional». This sounds like you have moved the participatory agenda on, but how exactly do you know how it feels for those involved? How was the process for all engaged?
Critically reflecting together on what happened in a given experience, before, during and after, is how we challenge and ultimately shift the seemingly embedded hierarchical, patronising and disempowering relationship between people and institutions. This is how we collectively build capability while developing an acute consciousness of the complex power dynamics within these relations.
This is how we liberate all involved to develop their potential to become active agents and co-contributors, to become solidarians.
Dear colleagues, the background to your letters is first and foremost, the pandemic, but it is not only that. The present anxieties we all share are to be seen, right there, between the lines of your letters—social, political, economic fears, and the largest threat of all—environmental. Arguably, we have more in common across the world right now, running between, across and throughout all cultures, with people of all backgrounds, than we ever did. I would argue that this is precisely the time of solidarity, as a social, emotional bond to jointly put into action.
It is high time to move beyond the empty words of «participation», towards practicing a politics of solidarity and active, collaborative change. We have no time for anything less, as the forces of prejudice and division rapidly gather and grow all around us in this «troubled world», that conspire to silence and divide.
Solidarity involves the conscious fostering of transformative relationships based on interdependence, as a radical act of resistance and struggle, leading to personal and social emancipation. Solidarity rejects the notions of kindness, empathy, «charity» that run throughout too much participatory practice, that result too often in the shutting down of dignity, of resistance, the shutting down of legitimate anger towards prejudice.
Photographer and theorist Ariella Azoulay, states: «I employ the term «contract» in order to shed terms such as «empathy», «shame», «pity», or «compassion» as organizers of this gaze» (Azoulay 2008). Our work is not done because of the pandemic—it's not even interrupted. It is the time to commit to a «solidarity contract» that is attuned, attentive and in pursuit of social justice and change. We can build up and out of the shared situations in which we find ourselves, locked away as we are in our rooms.
We can be creative in our solidarity, even when limited to, as Dmitry puts it, «"screen participation"… when we cannot see faces and engage in emotional contacts through smiles, touch, smell». But just as you have effectively done here, between the three of you, you can still make contact, still be in solidarity in meaningful ways. There has been an explosion of online debate, discussion and organising (see the U.S. elections and Black Lives Matter). We can still, plan, create, co-research, co-curate, organize. Dmitry says, «I still remember how exciting it was!» Well, it still is! It is essential that we remain active, inventive, engaged and open-hearted.
Meanwhile Dmitry usefully refers to taking a position of participatory educational platforms. It means that the participants of such projects have different possibilities to shape the process of common learning. So here I would emphasize the process of commoning the learning production.
This immediately opens up the possibilities of turning our present physical distancing limitations into possibilities. I would suggest that this could be called a pedagogy of solidarity, as Paulo Freire famously termed it (Freire et al, 2014), or as Dmitry puts it, «a secret mission between accomplices». And what is not exciting about that?!!
Thank you for your thoughtful letters.
In continuing solidarity,
Bernadette
Dr Bernadette Lynch
*Bernadette Lynch's writing is freely available online: https://ucl.academia.edu/BernadetteLynch
What struck me upon reading your three very good and reflective letters was first, that despite the gloomy forecast of the lockdowns, the pandemic cannot be an excuse for inaction. Secondly, that you are already indirectly suggesting, in your letters, ways to avoid inaction. And thirdly, in answer to the original questions on participation, what we may be witnessing here, in these letters, is when participation is transcended and solidarity begins.
Your letters speak, as Dmitry puts it, of «social disintegration, lack of air, cynicism and loss». But this is not only in Russia, Dmitry. Fear, isolation, regret, frustration and powerlessness run through the three letters, as they do throughout virtually all communications right now. One could call this a worldwide existential despair. As Dmitry points out, «Chto Delat have been countering these tendencies for 17 years. And every time you feel like starting from scratch».
I say, no need to start from scratch. We are always learning and building upon previous struggles in the democratization of our practices, and our societies.
There are also some profoundly positive aspects to your letters. Your communications reveal the close interpersonal connection of a global experience that we all now share — one that is a great leveler. One feels oneself to be in the room with all three of you, writing, as Suzana so nicely puts it, like «pen-pals». You are paying attention to yourselves and to others—in this case, your far-flung colleagues. We are all here bearing witness to each other's intimate feelings of being caught in this shared moment in the world
Philosopher and political activist, Simone Weil, thought of this notion of attention to one another's experience aslove, «for just as attention acknowledges the existence of another, love requires the recognition of a reality outside of the self» (Weil 1966: 130). For Weil, this loving solidarity is central to social justice.
bel hooks put it this way:
The moment we choose to love we begin to move against domination, against oppression. The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom, to act in ways that liberate ourselves and others. That action is the testimony of love as the practice of freedom.
Here, in these letters, we have three very experienced practitioners from different parts of the world, very well-practiced in the «art of participation», feeling the loss of your practice, your active agency. Yet, I believe you are in fact demonstrating something very important (something essential to our would-be discussion in St Petersburg)—you are demonstrating solidarity as the connective tissue between humans wherever and in whatever difficult circumstances they find themselves (Lynch 2020). This connection between people collaborating is so powerful when it exists in a conscious way, and so limiting when it does not, when it is in fact, «participation-lite».
So, let's look at «participation», that ubiquitous buzzword, central to our discussion.
Much participatory practice has been criticised as essentially flawed, providing an illusion of participation while, in reality, consensual decisions tend to be coerced, or rushed through on the basis of the artist's or the institution's control of creative/knowledge production and its dissemination, or on the basis of a funding agenda, thereby manipulating consensus on what is inevitable, usual or expected (Graham 2013; Lynch and Alberti, 2010; Lynch 2011a; 2011c; Lynch 2019; Lynch 2020; Marstine 2011; Sandell and Nightingale 2012).
Despite good intentions, participation is not always the democratic process it claims to be; rather, it more frequently reflects the agendas of the institution where the processes are in fact tightly controlled (Fouseki 2010; Lynch 2011a).
Too often in our participatory practice we inadvertently avoid the discomfort of actual participation through something else: co-option.It is the very ambiguity of participation, citizenship, and empowerment that have made them vulnerable to appropriation for political agendas; differently positioned users put very different versions of these concepts to use.
When I wrote Whose Cake is it Anyway? (Lynch 2011a),following my UK-wide study on behalf of the Paul Hamlyn Foundation, I had reviewed the effectiveness of public engagement and participation in the UK's museums. The study showed that, despite best intentions, participation in the cultural arts sector frequently runs into direct conflict between funder expectations and participant aspirations.
In the course of my subsequent research, numerous instances could be cited that epitomise the pitfalls within genuine attempts at fostering a collaborative relationship with people in our practice, one that is ethical, democratic, participatory, reciprocal and allows for genuine challenge and debate.
The product (an exhibition or programme) may look good, but the relationship too often does not.
One recurring element of this breakdown of communication is the institutional (and individual) discomfort with, and consequent avoidance of, conflict (Lynch 2017c). A rights-based approach to collaboration must enable those whose lives are affected the most (by oppression or injustice) to articulate their priorities and to make change happen.
The so-called «activist institution» is not the same as a commitment to activism embedded within a rights-based practice that facilitates people's right to express themselves—sometimes angrily—and act towards social change—and therefore hope.
The point here is not that the artist's or arts institutions' role in generating awareness of social and environmental injustice, and human rights abuses, is not important. It is that the artist, project or institution cannot, at the same time, lose sight of the critical importance of people's own active agency—something that is so easily, and inadvertently undone under the name of participation. For example, Pablo, your Instituto de la Telenovela, your first «socially engaged project», which, you say, served as a research project exploring the impact of the Mexican soap opera industry in Eastern Europe. I want to ask if the research was co-produced?
Co-researching is a wide-open field of collaboration and solidarity, one from which participants are too often excluded, finding themselves more frequently, «the researched». It is another element— a lack but also an opportunity—in terms of transforming what we commonly understand as «participation».
So, what is to be done to improve participation, to avoid the participation trap?
I have already mentioned a commitment to people's active agency, and to overcoming the fear of conflict. But there is another stumbling block.
Too often, institutions and collaborative projects continue to be non-reflective, thus in effect exercising a paternalism that undermines people's self-empowerment.
The only way up and out of this rabbit-hole is through a commitment to ongoing collaborative, critical reflective practice (Lynch 2011b). This collaborative reflective practice is central to learning, and absolutely central to breaking through—moving from participation-lite to active solidarity—in which the collaborators develop their voice as «critical friends».
I want to ask you Dmitry how much collaborative, critical reflection may be embedded in the School of Engaged Art? You speak of the seven years running your educational platform at Chto Delat and add that, «I hope that we managed to 'indoctrinate' more than 150 people who now share this feeling of lonely struggle». This sounds less like participation and more like solidarity. Is this a true depiction?
You remark Dmitry, that you see Chto Delat by now as «a community which seriously has shaped the whole alternative local scene», and you add that, «we care about it and somehow it works—at least we got a substantial number of people with whom you could keep a quality and intimate relations—personal and professional». This sounds like you have moved the participatory agenda on, but how exactly do you know how it feels for those involved? How was the process for all engaged?
Critically reflecting together on what happened in a given experience, before, during and after, is how we challenge and ultimately shift the seemingly embedded hierarchical, patronising and disempowering relationship between people and institutions. This is how we collectively build capability while developing an acute consciousness of the complex power dynamics within these relations.
This is how we liberate all involved to develop their potential to become active agents and co-contributors, to become solidarians.
Dear colleagues, the background to your letters is first and foremost, the pandemic, but it is not only that. The present anxieties we all share are to be seen, right there, between the lines of your letters—social, political, economic fears, and the largest threat of all—environmental. Arguably, we have more in common across the world right now, running between, across and throughout all cultures, with people of all backgrounds, than we ever did. I would argue that this is precisely the time of solidarity, as a social, emotional bond to jointly put into action.
It is high time to move beyond the empty words of «participation», towards practicing a politics of solidarity and active, collaborative change. We have no time for anything less, as the forces of prejudice and division rapidly gather and grow all around us in this «troubled world», that conspire to silence and divide.
Solidarity involves the conscious fostering of transformative relationships based on interdependence, as a radical act of resistance and struggle, leading to personal and social emancipation. Solidarity rejects the notions of kindness, empathy, «charity» that run throughout too much participatory practice, that result too often in the shutting down of dignity, of resistance, the shutting down of legitimate anger towards prejudice.
Photographer and theorist Ariella Azoulay, states: «I employ the term «contract» in order to shed terms such as «empathy», «shame», «pity», or «compassion» as organizers of this gaze» (Azoulay 2008). Our work is not done because of the pandemic—it's not even interrupted. It is the time to commit to a «solidarity contract» that is attuned, attentive and in pursuit of social justice and change. We can build up and out of the shared situations in which we find ourselves, locked away as we are in our rooms.
We can be creative in our solidarity, even when limited to, as Dmitry puts it, «"screen participation"… when we cannot see faces and engage in emotional contacts through smiles, touch, smell». But just as you have effectively done here, between the three of you, you can still make contact, still be in solidarity in meaningful ways. There has been an explosion of online debate, discussion and organising (see the U.S. elections and Black Lives Matter). We can still, plan, create, co-research, co-curate, organize. Dmitry says, «I still remember how exciting it was!» Well, it still is! It is essential that we remain active, inventive, engaged and open-hearted.
Meanwhile Dmitry usefully refers to taking a position of participatory educational platforms. It means that the participants of such projects have different possibilities to shape the process of common learning. So here I would emphasize the process of commoning the learning production.
This immediately opens up the possibilities of turning our present physical distancing limitations into possibilities. I would suggest that this could be called a pedagogy of solidarity, as Paulo Freire famously termed it (Freire et al, 2014), or as Dmitry puts it, «a secret mission between accomplices». And what is not exciting about that?!!
Thank you for your thoughtful letters.
In continuing solidarity,
Bernadette
Dr Bernadette Lynch
*Bernadette Lynch's writing is freely available online: https://ucl.academia.edu/BernadetteLynch
Suzana Milevska
Dear pen-pal, I hail from North Macedonia. I am writing on my laptop ...
18 Nov
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. Azoulay, A. (2008), The Civil Contract of Photography, New York: Zone Books Fouseki, K. (2010), 'Community voices, curatorial choices: community consultation for the1807 exhibitions', Museum and Society, 8 (3), 1 Walter 80−92
2. Freire, P., Freire, A. M. A., and de Oliveira, W.F., (2014), California, Left Coast Press,
Graham, H., Mason, R., and Nayling, N. (2013), 'The Personal is Still Political: Museums, Participation and Copyright', Museum and Society, 11 (2), 105−121, viewed 10 January 2019, htpps://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/18 492 997.pdf
3. hooks, b. (1994), Outlaw Culture: Resisting Representations, London and New York: Routledge Classics, Vol.83
4. Lynch, B.,(2020) ' Neither helpful nor unhelpful — a clear way forward for the useful museum' in Museums and Social Change: Challenging the Unhelpful Museum, London and New York: Routledge, 1−31
5. Lynch, B. (2019), 'I'm gonna do something': Moving beyond talk in the museum', in R. R. Janes and R. Sandell (eds) (2019), Museum Activism, London and New York: Routledge, 115−126.
6. Lynch, B. (2017a), 'Migrants, Museums and tackling the legacies of prejudice', in Museums in a time of Migration: Re-thinking museums' roles, representations, collections, and collaborations, C. Johnson and P. Bevlander, (eds), Lund: Nordic Academic Press, 225−242.
7. Lynch, B, (2017b), 'The Gate in the Wall: Beyond Happiness-making in Museums', in B. Onciul, M.L. Stefano., and S. Hawke, Engaging Heritage, Engaging Communities, Suffolk: Boydell Press, 11−29.
8. Lynch, B. (2017c), ' Disturbing the Peace: Museums, Democracy and Conflict Avoidance, in D. Walters, D. Leven, and P. Davis (eds), Heritage and Peacebuilding, Suffolk: Boydell Press, 109−126,
9. Lynch B. (2014a), 'Whose cake is it anyway?': museums, civil society and the changing reality of public engagement' in Museums and Migration, London and New York: Routledge, 67−80.
10. Lynch, B., (2014b), 'Challenging Ourselves: Uncomfortable Histories and Current Museum Practices' in J. Kidd, S. Cairns, A. Drago, A. Ryall, and M. Stearn, (eds), Challenging History in the Museum: International Perspectives, London: Ashgate, 87−99.
11. Lynch, B., (2014c), Our Museum: A Five-Year Perspective from a Critical Friend, viewed 20April 2019, .London, Paul Hamlyn Foundation, http://api.ning.com/files/....
12. Lynch B. (2011a), Whose Cake is it Anyway? A collaborative investigation into engagement and participation in twelve museums and galleries in the UK, London: The Paul Hamlyn Foundation, viewed 20 April 2019, http://www.phf.org.uk/publications/whose-cake-anyw…
13. Lynch, B, (2011b), 'Custom-made reflective practice: can museums realise their capabilities in helping others realise theirs?' in Museum Management and Curatorship, 26 (5) London and New York: Routledge, 441−58.
14. Lynch, B. T. and Alberti S. J. M. M. (2010), 'Legacies of prejudice: racism, co-production and radical trust in the museum', Museum Management and Curatorship, 25: 1, London and New York, Routledge, 13−35.
15. Marstine, Janet (ed) (2011), The Routledge Companion to Museum Ethics: Redefining Ethics for the twenty-first century, London and New York: Routledge.
16. Sandell, R, 2002 Museums and the combating of social inequality: roles, responsibilities, resistance, in Museums, society, inequality (ed R Sandell), Routledge, London, 3−23
17. Sandell, R, 2003 Social inclusion, the museum and the dynamics of sectoral change, Museum & Society 191, 45−62
18. Sandell, R, and Dodd, J, 2010 Activist practice, in Re-presenting Disability: Activism and Agency in the Museum (eds R Sandell, J Dodd, and R Garland-Thomson), Routledge, London, 3−22 Sandell, R, and Nightingale, E, 2012 Museums, Equality and Social Justice, Routledge, London and New York
19.Weil, S. 1966 [2009], Waiting for God, Emma Craufurd (trans.), New York: HarperCollins; Attente de Dieu, Paris: Éditions Fayard.
1. Azoulay, A. (2008), The Civil Contract of Photography, New York: Zone Books Fouseki, K. (2010), 'Community voices, curatorial choices: community consultation for the1807 exhibitions', Museum and Society, 8 (3), 1 Walter 80−92
2. Freire, P., Freire, A. M. A., and de Oliveira, W.F., (2014), California, Left Coast Press,
Graham, H., Mason, R., and Nayling, N. (2013), 'The Personal is Still Political: Museums, Participation and Copyright', Museum and Society, 11 (2), 105−121, viewed 10 January 2019, htpps://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/18 492 997.pdf
3. hooks, b. (1994), Outlaw Culture: Resisting Representations, London and New York: Routledge Classics, Vol.83
4. Lynch, B.,(2020) ' Neither helpful nor unhelpful — a clear way forward for the useful museum' in Museums and Social Change: Challenging the Unhelpful Museum, London and New York: Routledge, 1−31
5. Lynch, B. (2019), 'I'm gonna do something': Moving beyond talk in the museum', in R. R. Janes and R. Sandell (eds) (2019), Museum Activism, London and New York: Routledge, 115−126.
6. Lynch, B. (2017a), 'Migrants, Museums and tackling the legacies of prejudice', in Museums in a time of Migration: Re-thinking museums' roles, representations, collections, and collaborations, C. Johnson and P. Bevlander, (eds), Lund: Nordic Academic Press, 225−242.
7. Lynch, B, (2017b), 'The Gate in the Wall: Beyond Happiness-making in Museums', in B. Onciul, M.L. Stefano., and S. Hawke, Engaging Heritage, Engaging Communities, Suffolk: Boydell Press, 11−29.
8. Lynch, B. (2017c), ' Disturbing the Peace: Museums, Democracy and Conflict Avoidance, in D. Walters, D. Leven, and P. Davis (eds), Heritage and Peacebuilding, Suffolk: Boydell Press, 109−126,
9. Lynch B. (2014a), 'Whose cake is it anyway?': museums, civil society and the changing reality of public engagement' in Museums and Migration, London and New York: Routledge, 67−80.
10. Lynch, B., (2014b), 'Challenging Ourselves: Uncomfortable Histories and Current Museum Practices' in J. Kidd, S. Cairns, A. Drago, A. Ryall, and M. Stearn, (eds), Challenging History in the Museum: International Perspectives, London: Ashgate, 87−99.
11. Lynch, B., (2014c), Our Museum: A Five-Year Perspective from a Critical Friend, viewed 20April 2019, .London, Paul Hamlyn Foundation, http://api.ning.com/files/....
12. Lynch B. (2011a), Whose Cake is it Anyway? A collaborative investigation into engagement and participation in twelve museums and galleries in the UK, London: The Paul Hamlyn Foundation, viewed 20 April 2019, http://www.phf.org.uk/publications/whose-cake-anyw…
13. Lynch, B, (2011b), 'Custom-made reflective practice: can museums realise their capabilities in helping others realise theirs?' in Museum Management and Curatorship, 26 (5) London and New York: Routledge, 441−58.
14. Lynch, B. T. and Alberti S. J. M. M. (2010), 'Legacies of prejudice: racism, co-production and radical trust in the museum', Museum Management and Curatorship, 25: 1, London and New York, Routledge, 13−35.
15. Marstine, Janet (ed) (2011), The Routledge Companion to Museum Ethics: Redefining Ethics for the twenty-first century, London and New York: Routledge.
16. Sandell, R, 2002 Museums and the combating of social inequality: roles, responsibilities, resistance, in Museums, society, inequality (ed R Sandell), Routledge, London, 3−23
17. Sandell, R, 2003 Social inclusion, the museum and the dynamics of sectoral change, Museum & Society 191, 45−62
18. Sandell, R, and Dodd, J, 2010 Activist practice, in Re-presenting Disability: Activism and Agency in the Museum (eds R Sandell, J Dodd, and R Garland-Thomson), Routledge, London, 3−22 Sandell, R, and Nightingale, E, 2012 Museums, Equality and Social Justice, Routledge, London and New York
19.Weil, S. 1966 [2009], Waiting for God, Emma Craufurd (trans.), New York: HarperCollins; Attente de Dieu, Paris: Éditions Fayard.
Sharing agency. what's wrong with participation?
curatorial forum
/
CORRESPONDENCE
ABOUT CORRESPONDENCE
Symposium* discussions have been transformed into an exchange of emails between russian and foreign researchers, curators, educators and artists. In their personal correspondence, the participants reflect on questions proposed by curators of the symposium* and talk about issues that they find important at this critical time.
Power relations in cultural institutions ...
The participants of the correspondence were invited to reflect on the problems of participatory projects. These projects are conceived by artists, curators and educators with good intentions to include participants from a non-artistic environment in the cultural process.
Sharing agency ...
Carolina Rito, Laurence Rassel, Felicity Allen and Françoise Vergès have been invited to start a written correspondence on the crucial topic of power relations in cultural institutions and their consequences on processes of institutional archiving.
rus
rus
ГМИИ им. А.С. Пушкина и ГЦСИ в Санкт-Петербурге при поддержке «Фонда поддержки инноваций и молодежных инициатив Санкт-Петербурга» в рамках 2-го Кураторского форума ©
Санкт-Петербург 2020
Content Oriented Web
Make great presentations, longreads, and landing pages, as well as photo stories, blogs, lookbooks, and all other kinds of content oriented projects.
The participants of the correspondence were invited to reflect on the problems of participatory projects. These projects are conceived by artists, curators and educators with good intentions to include participants from a non-artistic environment in the cultural process. But what do these projects actually mean for the participants as well as for the initiators of the projects themselves? What forms of commitment and responsibility do they take towards the collaborators? In their correspondence, Dmitry Vilensky, Pablo Helguera, Susana Milevska and Bernadette Lynch approached these issues from different positions, but being (like all of us) in a similar situation of global political crisis, distancing, «radical domesticity» and the impossibility of participation.
Sharing agency. What's wrong with participation?
Content Oriented Web
Make great presentations, longreads, and landing pages, as well as photo stories, blogs, lookbooks, and all other kinds of content oriented projects.
Carolina Rito, Laurence Rassel, Felicity Allen and Françoise Vergès have been invited to start a written correspondence on the crucial topic of power relations in cultural institutions and their consequences on processes of institutional archiving. In their letters, the authors reflect upon the potentiality of enacted-research, the necessity of acting from within the institution, and how to include cure and care in the functioning of institutions. Proposing a False Poem, Felicity Allen asks whether gossip could be a feminist strategy, while Francoise Vergès underlines the racial dimension of cultural workers' vulnerability.
The correspondence questions the way institutions are built, by whom and for whom and how their archives are produced, and proposes a feminist pedagogy, a pedagogy from below, as an approach to rethink what is considered as «natural truths».
The correspondence questions the way institutions are built, by whom and for whom and how their archives are produced, and proposes a feminist pedagogy, a pedagogy from below, as an approach to rethink what is considered as «natural truths».
Power relations in cultural institutions and what cannot be found in their archives?
Content Oriented Web
Make great presentations, longreads, and landing pages, as well as photo stories, blogs, lookbooks, and all other kinds of content oriented projects.