Performing the Margins

PERFORMING THE MARGINS
Mariska van den Berg

The importance of artist-in-residence programmes is recognized widely, but many such programmes are under threat, along with other initiatives and institutes in the arts. To discuss the specific quality of art residencies this essay investigates ‘the margin’ as a critical space in an international perspective. Interviews were conducted with artists in residence and individuals running AiR programs.(1) These discussions have been examined in relation to influential lines of thinking within the arts discourse, in order to provide insight into how residency programmes relate to the artistic development of individual artists, as well as the crucial role that residencies play in the development of new artistic and social practices and alternative structures, to ultimately reflect on the nature of hospitality and reciprocity in the specific context of residency programmes.

CATALYSTS
In Brabant and elsewhere, artist-in-residence programmes serve as catalysts for artistic development and production. The number of residencies for artists and curators has increased in recent years: they cannot be ignored in the context of the larger infrastructure of contemporary art. Residencies are seen and supported as crucial nodes in career development and (international) circulation, as invaluable infrastructures for critical reflection and production, because they offer space for research, experiment, dialogue, discourse and site-specific research. In the international context, they facilitate cross-cultural collaboration. It is moreover self-evident that they relate to and are affected by ongoing processes of wider societal change, including the economic and political pressures that affect the arts and professional practices at any given time.

To facilitate space for the arts on their own terms, artist-in-residence programmes often move in and out of institutional frameworks, operating in the margins of art and society. In this text, current identities, as well as the roles and significance of art residencies, are investigated by way of a circulating motion, approached with the margin as the point of focus: what need is there for a practice in and at the margins? What specific qualities and opportunities can this marginal position provide?

THE MARGIN: MOVING IN BETWEEN
The word ‘margin’ has multiple meanings and implications. In a geographic sense, the margin is a location at the periphery, as opposed to the centre. Within the larger infrastructure for contemporary visual art, residencies are often seen as fertile breeding grounds, located at the basis and/or within the margins of the entire art ecology. Seen rather more philosophically, the margin can also be considered as an in-between space. Acting in the margins also means being just outside, or in-between, within a space somewhere in between the fixed outlines of what is generally given or accepted.

A few influential lines of thinking and concepts from the recent arts discourse have been adopted in order to investigate the margins as a critical space. In 2007, art critic Jan Verwoert wrote an essay that is still relevant: ‘Exhaustion and Exuberance: Ways to Defy the Pressure to Perform’. I took what Verwoert describes as pressure on artistic practice as a given, and address the question of whether and how to escape that pressure. ‘Take Care’ is another influential essay, published in 2011 by curator Anthony Huberman, on how small organizations behave differently in relation to their larger institutional counterparts. I have used it as a springboard to talk about the position of residencies within the larger body of art ecology and how residencies facilitate and possibly also create other modes of working, as well as alternative structures. Thirdly, I use the concept of hospitality to develop some thoughts about reciprocity. In the case of residencies, what kind of hospitality are we dealing with? Is there reason to ask something in return for the hospitality received? And if so, what could that be?

In ‘Exhaustion and Exuberance: Ways to Defy the Pressure to Perform’, Jan Verwoert reflects upon our current high-performance consumer culture, ‘a culture where we no longer just work, we perform: we are required to get our act together, to get things done. (...) to prove yourself, do things and go places.’ In a high-performance culture, all parameters for the work are set by outside demand, and the job must be done as fast as possible to meet the deadline. In art, in contrast, work is not defined through outside criteria, but through an immanent demand. Although the ideology of high performance does not match well with the nature of the creative process, it is currently a major influence on art (funding) policies, requiring entrepreneurship, output and visibility, and adopting corresponding ideas about success.

Jan Verwoert addresses the question of whether there is a choice between yes or no. Instead of going along with the pressure to make something happen, to be ever ready to deliver – the ‘I Can’ motto – he asks, Can we embrace the I Can’t without depriving ourselves of our potential to act? Could we unlock the I Can’tas a form of agency? Can we imagine other ways to perform? Can we turn our work from a marginal practice into a practice of performing the margins; a performance of demarcating the limits of the existing society by pointing beyond the given regime of options towards other possibilities, ... by representing the possibility of other possibilities.’

The question – or perhaps I should say the call – of ’Can we embrace the I Can’t without depriving ourselves of our potential to act?’ is relevant and highly motivating. In every interview I conducted, artists and curators alike all strongly emphasized the necessity of developing different modes of working – alternative ways of relating, making, presenting – and the crucial role that residencies play in this development.

HOSPITALFIELD
Amsterdam-based artist Isabel Cordeiro spent four months as an artist in residence at Hospitalfield – a hub for artists in the remote Scottish village of Arbroath, a two-hour drive from Edinburgh. Hospitalfield, a professional organisation with specialized staff and management, offers studios in a secluded, natural environment. The structure provided is mainly social, with two meals a day with other residents, alongside a loosely organized programme of after-dinner talks with invited guests. Cordeiro also initiated a reading group with local Dundee artists as another way to connect.

Isabel Cordeiro described the qualities of this programme as depending on the opportunity to experience the remote setting and being able to stop the pace of our lives to make time to work. ‘Residencies are amazing buffers, as we have all become so effective; everything is planned, needs to be planned.’ A programme such as Hospitalfield’s offers opportunity, indeed, one in which you can be very shaken. ‘Getting out of your comfort zone makes it necessary to refocus, to put things in perspective.’

Hospitalfield, in the words of programme manager Laura Simpson, stands for time and space for development in the right environment. ‘It is important to not expect an outcome and to not impose deadlines, to enable the residents to withdraw from pressure and expectations, at least temporarily.’ Cordeiro adds that, ‘The possibility to create a bubble is priceless.’

TO TAKE CARE
‘Take Care’, by Anthony Huberman, brings us to the position held by AiR programmes within the larger context of overall art ecology and how they relate to the development of different modes of working and alternative structures. Huberman notes the historical role played by alternative spaces, one that has been made redundant now that commercial spaces and large museums are also showing uncommercial work by uncommercial artists. ’While these mainstream or commercial structures might now take risks with what they show, few take risks with how they work. In most cases, they produce exhibitions, one after the other, and strategically compete for larger audiences and for more widespread recognition. The challenge for a contemporary alternative space or curatorial approach is to behave differently.’ Huberman shifts our attention from what to how, as it is primarily small art organizations that experiment with new institutional and curatorial methods, propagating new ethics of behaviour or codes of conduct. The logic and structures are themselves questioned, whereby these small spaces create a meaningful context in which to present an alternative. Although Huberman addresses small art organizations in general, I believe this thinking certainly applies to residencies.

LEO XIII
Leo XIII, in Tilburg, the Netherlands, is a guest studio attached to a larger studio complex. It has existed for 20 years, and has recently adopted a new direction. The programme is run by artists and focuses on ‘young artists who dedicate themselves to a 21^st-century continuation of issues arising from the tradition of 20^th-century avant-garde’. The avant-garde ideal serves as a conceptual framework and is activated through the question, ‘Can we think radically differently?’ The focus on traditional disciplines is related to the conceptual framework, as well as to the classical atelier being offered, and is inspired by questioning the role of canonical art forms today, in a society that is focused on networks and digitization. ‘Autonomous canonical forms of art are not necessarily without commitment, on the contrary, that is the framework that we offer.’ The artist in residence is linked to an external expert (curator, critic or theoretician) in order to engage in a dialogue; the work period is completed with a presentation open to the public and an online publication.

Alongside its conceptual framework, Leo XIII conducts a programme of artist discussions, debates and symposia. In 2017, for example, Apice for Artists invited Stella Lohaus, who had previously run a renowned gallery in Belgium - in a programme called Non-lecture #1 - to debate the conditions for more involved forms of presentation and representation of contemporary artists In 2016, a group visit by curators-in-residence at Schloss Ringenberg examined the development of new exhibition concepts and models focusing on the difference between the curatorial approach and the artist method. Lastly, following the publication of Pascal Gielen’s The Murmuring of the Artistic Multitude, the symposium A Guest Studio As a Sanctuary in a Neoliberal World in 2014  reflected on ‘ingredients that the art world needs to preserve its own dynamics and freedom’.

The repetitive reconsideration of the ideas constituting the conceptual framework, as well as the culmination of the outcome of the debates in the program, raises the question of whether the acquired knowledge is made publicly accessible. Leo XIII is located peripherally, in the southern Dutch city of Tilburg, literally ‘at the back’, in an enclosed courtyard. Visibility here is not self-evident, but it is required within the ruling regime of art funding, and consequently, so too is quantifiable output. As Leo XIII receives support from the city of Tilburg and, more recently, also the national Mondrian Fund, they need to be more visible. They are currently developing an appropriate strategy. Nevertheless, Leo XIII’s Bas van den Hurk is stressing something else. Consistent with Jan Verwoert, who also speaks about 'a space of concealment' versus 'a space of appearance', Van den Hurk advocates the value of the realm of the invisible: the space of time and care; exactly those things that are so often lacking, and which are under pressure in the larger societal context. Space, time and concentration precede and are conditional for public showing, he says. ‘Not everything can and should be made visible. Invisibility contributes to focus. (...) This is the value of the kinds of places that we have to stand for.’

Leo XIII provides a guest studio, and it builds a discourse in which the perspective of the artist is central. It also takes a firm stance on the role and value of a small artist-in-residency programme within the larger infrastructure of the art world. Huberman’s How takes a central stance in the reflection on both artistic and curatorial practice and the institutional position. This thinking and testing seems no less important than the provision of an atelier to individual artists and curators, and is more than valuable to share, well beyond documentation on a website.

HOSPITALITY & RECIPROCITY
In order to be able to radically think things differently than they are, everything has to be possible. What is needed is an unconditional moment of freedom. For this reason, within the ongoing reflection on the future course of Leo XIII, the concept of hospitality is central: What kind of hospitality do we want to provide? Are there boundaries to (our) hospitality? What kind of productivity do we favour? In an international context, Finnish curator Taru Elfving recently brought the issue of reciprocity to the fore in ‘Residencies and Future Cosmopolitics’, published in Reframing the International #1 by the Flanders Arts Institute in 2017. She noted that, in relation to residencies today, a certain form of reciprocity is desirable. So what could that entail? And what does it mean for the respective roles of guest and host?

ZIN
Dutch artist Gijs Assmann was recently artist in residence at Zin, a former monastery in Vught, in Brabant, also The Netherlands. Nowadays Zin is a retreat centre for people seeking contemplation. Assmann was invited because of the issues he is currently investigating, working around convictions and addressing such questions as: What convictions are still relevant today? How does one relate tot the big questions of live in a human and practical way, how to testify to them and how to shape this into stories and images? Hospitality at Zin means that the studio and the stay are free of cost. The only requirement is to participate in daily life on site, to connect. The way in which this is done is unrestricted. Assmann gave workshops. ‘I wanted to relate my search to the people who were visiting. In this environment, it could be done in a way more connected to society than solely within the art context. The added value of Zin was a context in which the search for existential meaning was nourished.’ Assmann considers Zin as explicitly reflecting the essence of a residency: enabling a substantive reorientation of yourself, not only questioning yourself, but also your role and contribution. This is not so much in relation to art and the art system, because his main question was, How do I relate, as a human being, to life? Here, art is not a theme, but a way to conduct oneself. Assmann's stay at Zin provides an example of a natural dialectic between hospitality and reciprocity, originating from the – in this case spiritual – framework of the place and the selection based on such criteria as who can and who wants to mean something in this specific context.

In the international context also other considerations are at stake. Now that the self-evidence of international mobility and exchange is under pressure, with Europe becoming more and more inaccessible and the environmentally harmful effects of flying can no longer be ignored, Elfving asked, ‘So if you do, how?’ This raises the question of how to tackle reciprocity within a residency. Interestingly, Elving considers a residency as a place and a time, but also as an act. The act is one of the critical positioning of the artist-in-residence, by asking (and acting upon) such questions as: What do my engagements do? Who and what do they serve? Can they have any local impact beyond artistic value? Can they foster transformative encounters between practices, people and places? She points towards a position that goes beyond the unilateral relations of the tourist or researcher, consuming experiences and excavating sources. But how does one give substance to this without falling into the enforced (mainly social) contributions that already being asked too often of artists?

THE INSTITUTE FOR PROVOCATION
Artist and photographer Lard Buurman spent six months in Beijing, at The Institute for Provocation. Asked about the idea of reciprocity, he elaborates on the very complex societies that one enters as an artist in residence, which are totally different from what you are accustomed to. ‘China is dictatorship. A closed system like that eventually seeps through, into the work, but only later. It also permeates the contacts you make and the collaborations you engage in. The residency provided a safe haven, locally well connected and able to mediate in cultural and language barriers. Cultural differences are interesting, but never fully controllable. I think a residency in its essence is about how to relate to that, and that takes time.’ He considers the assumption that you can give something back and maybe even leave something meaningful behind within a few months as arrogant. For Buurman, the idea of reciprocity is at best manifested in a learning attitude, an attitude stemming from questioning how to approach these unknown places, and if – and how – they can be looked upon, and spoken about, in different ways.

DELTAWORKERS
Deltaworkers is a residency programme in New Orleans, run by curator Maaike Gouwenberg and artist Joris Lindhout, investigating the southern of the United States as one of the last mythical places of the Western world. Deltaworkers invites artists who, in their ongoing practice, show interest in the history, stories and mythical identity of the region. The residency offers communal living spaces, an assistant and an introduction into its extended network – ranging from the University of Houston to Buddhist retreats in the swamps and the local lively grassroots art scenes. Their philosophy is that all live in one big house and no studios are offered; the city itself becomes the resident's studio. The approach is cautious, however: ‘Our residents cannot just start producing right away. That would only bring clichés and superficiality, and the city is far too complex,’ says Gouwenberg. ‘An outsider doesn't get in easily. We took time to develop a network and make introductions. Often, work only arises after the time spend here, and that is fine.’

Where the temporary stay of the artists is concerned, she is critical of the idea of reciprocity. ‘Bringing something, instead of taking, doesn't change the very nature of the unequal – maybe even colonial – relationship.’ Deltaworkers therefore stimulates exchange. Eventual transformative encounters can be fed by being consciously present, by looking very closely and precisely at, for example, the representation of poor people, reflecting on how you are going to conduct that conversation. Deltaworkers creates a framework, weaves connections and most of all fosters an attitude towards the city, which is considered much more than just an object of study or an environment to inhabit. An attitude of sensitivity to local particularities is fostered, as well as an awareness of agency – recalling Elving’s 'the Act' – as part of an ongoing formation that all involved are part of. I consider this a sensible proposal for a situated practice, a precise and sensitive working method carried out in dialogue and reciprocity, one that calls for a shift in understanding the essence of site-specifity.

MARGINAL, CONNECTED AND GROUND-BREAKING
Artist-in-residence programmes provide open, relational, social spaces embedded in the locality of a village or city. They connect artists and create communities of practitioners: to test ideas, take creative risks and explore new directions in their artistic practice.

Hospitalfield encompasses a temporary retreat from Verwoert's 'pressure to perform', it can be seen as marginal in the geographical sense, although it is not positioned in opposition to the centre. On the contrary, it is very connected in its aim to support artists in their professional development, something that cannot be seen separately from the artist's functioning in the larger whole of the art world. The qualitative advantage of the place – and this was mentioned in relation to all other residency programmes as well – is the openness of the place. No predetermined plan is required, no pressure is exerted towards an end product or presentation. This is not to say that there is no need for structure amongst the artists. A framework for connection and exchange is needed. Dialogue and reflection on the content of the body of work and thought is a prerequisite for development. The ideal framework would be without fixed format or procedure, allowing for what best suits the artist and the place.

Investigating art residencies in their relation to the larger infrastructure in terms of the development of new modes of working and new presentation and institutional models - in correspondence with Huberman's How - Leo XIII and Deltaworkers provide convincing and valuable examples that will likely resonate in the larger context. Residencies might therefore best been seen alongside other institutes – or maybe even as the beating heart of the whole art ecology – instead of at the bottom of the hierarchy. It is precisely because these programmes function in relation to the larger whole, in the spaces just outside or in between the already defined contours of other institutes, that they need to be flexible and free to develop from immanent motivations, to achieve their potential for innovation. For the organizations that fund them, making conditions (including visibility and audience reach) more flexible to their own ends could help, emphasizing their specific contribution in terms of the programmes they realize. 

Lastly, the issue of reciprocity is a legitimate one, one that has been raised, but which has not yet crystallized. On the level of the individual artists, it is best manifested as an interested attitude, fostering the open encounter that Lard Buurman and Gijs Assmann refer to. Reciprocity also seems to be in good hands in the programmes of such organizations as Leo XIII and Deltaworkers. I would like to suggest a shift here away from the relationship between the artist and the residency to that between the residency and the wider environment. Actively using artistic practice in order to think along with the youngest generation, Leo XIII contributes convincingly to the art field. In the case of Deltaworkers, the long-term presence of the initiators results in an extensive network of long-term relationships, both in and outside the arts, the gathering of impressive knowledge of the beloved region, and fostering a working method that calls for a shift in understanding the essence of site-specifity.

It is precisely because their concerns are current and poignant, as are the experimental ways of giving them shape, that it is important for these practices to continue to develop according to their own motives and conditions, to execute their potentiality for innovation. This needs to be further appointed and described - also by the organizations themselves - in order to enable resonance of such spaces in the larger whole of art and society.

Verwoert and Huberman suggest, or maybe even call for, a counter-movement - a refusal made productive though immanent motivation. In this light, residencies occupy a unique position. Being an integral part of the larger whole of the art world, they offer open and reflective spaces for the development of other methods of working as well as institutional models. Their position - moving in between, in 'the margin' – seems to be the ideal place for this.

_Notes

_{(1) I have interviewed artists who recently worked in residency contexts, including Isabel Cordeiro (Hospitalfield, Scotland), Lard Buurman (TIP, Beijing) and Gijs Assmann (Zin, the Netherlands); as well as artists running Leo XIII in Tilburg, the Netherlands (Bas van den Hurk), Deltaworkers in New Orleans (Maaike Gouwenberg), and Laura Simpson, programme manager at Hospitalfield.}

_Sources

_{Jan Verwoert
'Exhaustion and Exuberance. Ways to Defy the Pressure to Perform'
Dot Dot Dot 15, p. 89-112, 2007}

_{Anthony Huberman
'Take Care'
Circular Facts, Eds. Mai Abu ElDahab, Binna Choi, Emily Pethic, 2011}

_{Taru Elfving
'Residencies and Future Cosmopolitics'
Reframing the international #1, Flanders Arts Institute, p.19-27, November 2017}

_{Jacques Derrida
'The Principe of Hospitality'
Parallax, Issue 1, 2005 | published online in 2006}

_Websites

_{Hospitalfield, Arbroath, Scotland | hospitalfield.org.uk
Leo XIII, Tilburg, the Netherlands | gastatelierleo13.nl
Zin, Vught, the Netherlands | kloosterhotelzin.nl
The Institute for Provocation, Beijing, China | iprovoke.org
Deltaworkers in New Orleans, USA | deltaworkers.org
AiR Platform NL - DutchCulture-TransArtists | transartists.org
BKKC (Knowledge Centre for Art and Culture in North Brabant) | bkkc.nl}