Published essays & interviews
Temporary Peace Zone - an interview with Carey Young
by Inka Gressel, Badischer Kunstverein, Karlsruhe, 2006
First published in 'Critical Societies: a Reader', Badischer
Kunstverein & Verlag fur Moderne Kunst Nurnberg, 2006
Inka Gressel: Your piece 'Colour Guide',
shown at the Badischer Kunstverein, refers to visual codes and raises the question
- how and by whom is the visual field structured? And what
is the role of the aesthetic in your work?
Carey Young: This piece centres on some private communication
between Corbis, one of the largest stock photography image
banks in the world, and Immo Klink, a photographer who freelances
for them. Corbis has over 70 million stock photographs which
can be licensed for use in design and publishing, so it's a
major source of images within wider visual culture, and they
commission a lot of new photography. Immo sent me a jpeg of
a grid of 36 colours - their 'colour guide', and an email from
them which said words to the effect that 'these are the colours
that will be popular within the marketplace, so please use
them when you are creating new photographs for us.' When I
looked at the colour guide it suggested to me a future bias
which could eventually spread across the whole of visual culture.
By recreating the colour guide at a much larger scale in coloured,
opaque vinyl film and placing it on to the only light source
in the gallery, it looks like a lightbox covered in giant,
brightly coloured pixels. I wanted to suggest a window to the
outside world that referenced but also denied the visual, and
which greatly reduced the complexity of the view outside from
millions of colours down to 36. At the same time that grid
of colours is undeniably beautiful. It has a hypnotic quality,
like the windows in a cathedral. There is a seductive aspect
to the colours - the viewer might be seduced by this kind of
corporate aesthetic just as we as subjects might be seduced
by the power of corporate marketing.
My work as a whole seems to oscillate between projects which
are relatively unaesthetic, which take on the visual quality
of readymades taken from the fields of business or law and
reference conceptual art, to more 'retinal' works which are
carefully structured in formal terms. With recent works such
as 'Colour Guide' or 'Terms and Conditions' I've been interested
in taking on a more painterly language. This is partly to vary
my work, I want to keep things diverging and I have always
had a 'photographic' and somewhat formal eye, which is nice
to come back to. It's like using humour, it's a strategy to
give something enjoyable to the viewer which helps them engage
with the work, which is in itself often about notions of complicity.
IG:
Your video piece 'Terms and Conditions' also allows a reference
to beauty, this time of a landscape. But in the actress's
script we hear a composite of disclaimers from corporate
websites. You have discussed this previously in terms of
the notion of a 'negative space' where the possibility of
action is negated. How does digital space affect real life?
CY: This piece used a natural agricultural landscape, a 'pastoral
idyll', as quite a painterly backdrop. In the foreground you
see a woman in a suit who looks like a newsreader standing
in a field. Her script was created by collaging together a
series of disclaimers from corporate websites in which there
are clear rules set out for what is possible and what is restricted
on their 'site'. For example, she says that all the material
that you see in front of you is copyrighted, for example. As
the woman performs the script, her words seem to be a reference
to the landscape but in English the word 'site' has a double
meaning and can also refer to websites. And by equating this
with the idea of site, in the Robert Smithson, Land Art sense,
this abstracted it further. The script at first seems out of
place in that setting, but I’m also trying to suggest
that there is a logic, that maybe this privatised, digital
and highly corporate language is actually rather relevant to
the landscape when we think of it in terms of genetic modification
and the patenting of lifeforms and the biosphere, or the fact
that the commons is increasingly being privatized.
I like J.G. Ballard’s term communication landscape as
it creates a continuity between digital networks and physical
space, which this piece centres on. So this shifts things away
from the Enlightment view of the Cartesian split between mind
and body which has unfortunately been somewhat central to the
language of the digital. My work is often about physicality
and embodiment, about performativity and conditioning via the
internalisation of ideological information. But it references
the space of the digital and the formal structures of overlapping
networks of communication.
IG:
You use the same tools to analyze the artistic field and
to destabilize the status of the relationship between artwork,
viewer and institution. The 'Disclaimer Series' in this case
protect the artist. What are the different sorts of values
involved?
CY: The 'Disclaimer Series' is a series of three text-based
works which use the schema of the 'disclaimer' - a legal
text which is increasingly found on emails or websites which
allows an author, publisher or (often corporate) organisation
to protect themselves by denying any responsibility for what
they or their employees have said. The three works in
the 'Disclaimer Series' each offer a disclaimer about art,
written in precise and authentic legal language. For example,
one piece, 'Disclaimer: Value', disclaims its economic value
as a work of art, and places all the responsibility for its
value in the hands of others (everyone except the artist).
Another in the series, which is called 'Disclaimer: Access'
describes all the ways in which the hanging and display methods
used to exhibit the work in any circumstances are against the
artist's intentions. The work can never be seen in the way
the artist intended, and thus the viewer feels that perhaps
they can never really see the work, so the work both exists
and seems not to exist. The disclaimer creates a slippage in
the ontological status of the work which is quite playful,
but because the works were created in collaboration with an
intellectual property lawyer (Massimo
Sterpi) the language in the works has the quality of a readymade.
So to answer your question, the pieces do not really protect
the artist, they destabilise our expectations of the reception,
collection and ontological qualities of a work of art. I was
particularly interested in taking the disclaimer as a little-noticed
but widespread phenomena, that is considered so unimportant
it has scarcely been examined in a critical way, and pushing
it into the realm of art. Disclaimers seem really worth examining
because they are symptomatic of a society in which the powerful
seem largely unaccountable.
IG: Your piece 'Conflict
Management' was the only one that left the aesthetic frame
of the exhibition project and was translated into the public
sphere. It was realized in a popular market place, and
was imagined as a zone to settle disputes using professional
mediators. On a conceptual level one was first thinking
of the privatisation of public sphere that corresponds
to a 'becoming-public' of the private. But I was surprised
by the unimagined effects and forms of interaction that
arose. It tells a lot of what conflict-culture could mean
in different contexts. Did
you aim to comment on the corporate absorption of free debate
and the role of branding in the public space - the idea to
bring a product to the marketplace?
CY: The work can raise these associations
but it's important that the tool used in the piece - negotiation
skills - is not necessarily a corporate procedure. In fact
it is often offered by non-profit organisations who offer their
conflict-resolution services to industry, governments and the
professional sphere in general. It's a process that is often
associated with the bitter disputes between unions and industry,
especially in the 1970s and 80s in the UK, something I remember
from my childhood. However the setting of the work within a
marketplace and within sight of the logos of multinational
companies is important. In Budapest, where the work was first
commissioned, I placed the mediator's stall in front of McDonalds
and Nokia logos, and in Karlsruhe the Hypovereinsbank was right
there as a visible element in the background. It's often said
that our lives now play themselves out within a marketplace
- this is of course one of the defining principles of neoliberalism,
that the market provides all the answers to any social, political
or personal need. So the work refers to its setting but is
not necessarily offering a 'corporate' experience. In fact,
the essence of this work, at least to my imagination, is that
it acts as a 'temporary peace zone', it is a kind of utopia,
a very short-lived mirage because the work is there for just
one day. But this is a utopia that is set in an overtly commercial
context, and which also refers very much to the culture of
so-called 'reality TV' and our confessional talk-show culture
where people seem only too happy to air their most intimate
problems in public. So these aspects complicate the utopian
potential of the work.
I was interested to learn that in Eastern Europe there is no
tradition of conflict resolution. If people have a conflict
they only will try to think of the law courts as a way to solve
it. There is no understanding of mediation as an option, as
a way of avoiding the expense of the legal system. Obviously
in Germany people must be more used to this idea. In Karlsruhe
the piece was more heavily used by the public, so the mediator
was almost constantly busy.
IG: Also in Germany mediation
is not yet well known to a broader public. The professionalizing
of mediation in Germany developed from social/ welfare work
whereas in the Anglo-American context it had been the business
world…
CY: Maybe the Anglo-American context comes from the fact that
English and American law is historically linked. The German
legal system is actually far closer to the French legal system,
and they share a tradition and some basic philosophical principles.
But it is important to remember that in terms of my artistic
intention the piece is 'successful' even if nobody uses it,
it is an offering which may be rejected (although both times
the work was presented the mediation service was used by the
public.) The central concept of the work is this idea of the
temporary peace zone, which exists purely on symbolic terms.
If it is ignored by the public that is of as much interest
as its constant use.
IG: Was documentation an integral
part of the process?
CY: Yes and no. Documentation is often vital to my work because
I often work in a performative way, creating participative
works for the viewer. I have become increasingly careful to
compose the work visually by thinking of the final documentation
at the moment of choosing a site. I consider how it will look
photographed, whether the documentation can convey the central
concepts of the work, because the documentation is likely to
carry much of any historical resonance that the piece may gain.
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