Category: Texts

Contact – Art as the outer limits of the Universe

CONTACT – ART AS THE OUTER LIMITS OF THE UNIVERSE
©Rune Peitersen 2010

The movie ‘Contact’ (1997) explores different aspects of the traditional positions of science and faith; what is faith and how does faith differ from scientific deduction. It cleverly raises a few questions about the validity, or reality, of individual experience versus ‘objective’ experience. The most interesting point, however, is that it (unintentionally?) provides a definition of art, and a way to look at art as playing a fundamental part in the construction of reality.

In the beginning of the movie, young Ellie Arroway is sitting behind a shortwave-radio trying to make contact with other radio enthusiasts. After a brief conversation with a man from Pensacola, Florida (the farthest away from her home so far), she makes a drawing of how she believes it looks like there – a nice beach and some palm trees. According to her caring widower-father it’s ‘a beauty’. Shortly after, her father dies of a heart attack, leaving Ellie calling out for him on her shortwave radio.
Twenty years later, Ellie is a passionate astronomer searching for extraterrestrial life using large radio telescopes. Eventually, she receives a signal, which apparently comes from very far away. Through a series of events, the signal is decoded and a giant ‘machine’ is constructed using the instructions given in the signal. What this machine is supposed to do is unclear, but it is believed that it will create a wormhole allowing ‘the passenger’ to travel to ‘the other end of the universe’. Having been chosen to be the passenger, Ellie takes her place inside the machine and, from her perspective, travels through a series of tunnels of light and eventually awakens on a beach, which closely resembles the drawing of Florida that she made many years earlier. It is there that she meets an entity who looks like her father. Baffled by the scenery and seeing her dead ‘father’, she assumes that her mind ‘has been downloaded’ by the aliens in order to create a non-threatening setting. After a brief talk with the entity she suddenly ‘wakes up’ again in the machine – according to her experience (and the recording equipment she carried) 18 hours later, and according to the onlookers from the machine control centre an instant later.
The final stages of the movie deal with questions concerning the veracity of Ellie’s individual experience (“I cannot explain it, but it was real”) as opposed to the multiple concurring observations made from the control centre (“We didn’t see anything”). Eventually, Ellie gives into the accepted narrative, that “…some things just can’t be explained”. (From a feminist point of view, this is when the strong heroine breaks and becomes vulnerable, and is eventually swept off in a limousine by her male, Christian protector, who only then says, that he “…for one, believes her story.” She’s finally been reigned in.)
At the end of the movie, Ellie tells a group of school kids that nobody knows how big the universe is, but that “…it’s bigger than anything anyone has ever dreamed of.”

This final statement is a typical example of the hierarchical incongruity between our perception of the subjective experience and ‘objective’ reality. Ellie has just travelled to the far ends of the universe and found it to be a real version of a drawing she herself made, and her conclusion is that the universe is somehow “…bigger than anything anyone has ever dreamed of”!?! It seems to me that she sees exactly what she herself had dreamed, regarding the farthest place from her home, would be like and that, by implication, our dreams and visions define our universe. Even though she applies an explanation that makes sense from her technologically based worldview (“downloading my mind”), the fact remains that she walks in a world constructed by her own brain. Now, normally we dismiss that as a hallucination, but what we then overlook is that everything anyone ever experiences is a construction of the brain. It makes no sense to speak of one experience being a construction of the brain and the other not. It is how we choose to incorporate these experiences into our shared construction of reality that matters.

We are used to thinking of the universe as a pretty solid construction where everything is ordered according to certain deducible laws; given enough time, we will find out all there is to know about the workings of the universe, and consequently our position in it. This is a remainder of Cartesian dualistic thought that, although discredited by science, still seems to determine the everyday worldview of our (Western) culture. It proclaims the division between mind and matter, and thereby reinforces the notion of ‘mind over matter’, which in turn is used to justify the proclaimed superiority of Western culture (as the ‘head’ of the world). However, the same science that was fathered by this dualistic worldview has long since found that the universe is not as ordered as it once was thought. It makes no sense to speak of mind and matter as separate phenomena. Our experience of the world is determined by sensory experience and expectations of this experience, which in turn are determined by the structure of our brain and nervous system. The world we experience (and it makes no sense to speak of any other) is a construction of our brain and extended nervous system, which are extensions of cellular structures working to feed themselves. In order for the brain to maintain an ever-growing metabolism, at some point self-consciousness gradually evolved. This caused a growing division between an ‘inner’ and an ‘outer’ world. Some sensory experiences were interpreted to deal with an ‘outside’ world, some with an ‘inside’ world (to the brain there is no difference). Thus, the experience of ‘me’, of a personality linked to ‘my body’, was gradually born. In order for several ‘me’s’ to share and experience the same reality, we need to be able to speak of the same reality and, consequently, the more complex a society becomes the more the need for ‘objectivity’ (a shared communicable reality) arises. Over time, ‘I’ becomes so ingrained in thought, language, and culture that the division between ‘me inside’ and ‘the world outside’ becomes near impossible to bridge. Eventually this leads to the idea of a world disconnected from our experience of it. Descartes distils this idea in his meditations and proclaims that we cannot trust our senses to show us the ‘real’ world and subsequently he places consciousness (‘I’) ‘above’ a mechanical world. However, as Ellie learns on the other side of the universe, the world is an expression of the brain, our consciousness is a consequence of dealing with the world – the brain is simultaneously the creator of and actor in the world.

In the movie, Ellie finds herself at a point, or in a place, outside of the shared reality. She ‘travels’ in a machine, which tests the outer limits of Einstein’s theories, our shared understanding of the universe. It is simple to speak of infinite mass, the speed of light and creating a singularity in mathematics, but imagine a machine that actually does it. What would it look like if you were transported to a place where time, matter, and energy approach infinity? How would the brain help the consciousness make sense of it? In Ellie’s case, it produces a world, based on a familiar image, related to suitable concepts. Had she never made that drawing, never envisioned what ‘the place farthest away from home’ might look like, she would probably have experienced something entirely different – perhaps, scenery from a science fiction movie, an Escher-inspired world, or nothing at all. However, the conceptual link (or neurological link) between the image and the concept makes it the ‘logical’ choice for her brain. It constructs a world, which allows her to deal with the new reality in which she finds herself, without breaking down the conceptual framework of her everyday reality. This way, her ‘self’ can incorporate the new reality alongside the shared reality.

Nobody follows Ellie through the machine, but imagine her experience had been taken seriously (and while doing so, reflect upon why it was not), the next passenger would then expect to arrive at a beach with palm trees. Perhaps he or she would start to explore the beach further, walking beyond the trees. Upon his or her return, he or she would confirm that he or she had travelled to the ‘same’ beach and thereby begin to establish the shared experience of ‘the beach in space’ as a real place you can travel to. In time, more people would go there and a consensus would arise on how to define ‘the beach’. After a while, it might not look anything like the original beach anymore, perhaps someone would cut down the trees or build a house, start measuring distances, defining ‘natural laws’ etc., but the foundation of the beach would always be Ellie’s first experience, based on her drawing.

Much like the Australian Aboriginals who tell of how their forefathers in the Dreamtime sang songs which solidified and became the world, Ellie’s drawing, or rather the neurological processes (her ‘pre-conscious’ ) which ‘inspired’ the drawing, becomes the new world. Although we do not have access to a machine like Ellie’s, the processes described here can be used to describe the origin of the foundations of our world as well. From the caves of Lascaux to the perspectival visions of the Renaissance or the definition of Cyberspace by William Gibson, the foundation of our shared reality is an artistic vision, an artist’s rendering of pre-conscious neurological processes. The scientific goal is the exploration of this rendition – how does it work, how can it best be described, what does it do, and how can we best use it?

Art plays a much more fundamental part in the construction of reality than we usually accredit it with. Art is not something that develops in a society as a means of ‘exploring emotions’, analyzing current political trends, or keeping the masses content. Without art, there is no society. It is neither passive nor descriptive, it is active in its creation, and it is literally creative. Not as an exercise in metaphor or symbolism, but the concrete experience we know as reality. Art enables the construction of a shared reality, which can be used as foundation for the world and eventually, civilization. It is not at odds with science, it is the precursor to science and the scientific worldview – as Ellie stammers when she travels through the wormhole, ‘No, no words can describe this…they should have sent a poet’.

What she does not realize is that they did.



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1. I use the term pre-conscious not in the Freudian sense, but as a term for the neurological fact that e.g. decisions are shown to be already decided upon in the brain before the decision becomes conscious. We may think ‘we’ decide but our consciousness merely acts out decisions taken at a ‘deeper’ level of the brain, the ‘pre-conscious’.

Einstein & Bohr

This text was written for the exhibition “Saccadic Sightings: Einstein & Bohr”. The text is on display in the exhibition between the two works, “Observer Effect – Underpath Sequence” and “Observing Uncertainty – Underpath”.

©Rune Peitersen 2010

In the beginning of the 20th century, The Quantum Revolution changed reality. It is not the most well known revolution, but its implications may be among the most dramatic ever. It is at the base of almost every technological advance of the 20th century, from perms to PCs, and space travel to surfing the Web and still, its implications remain highly controversial and counter- intuitive.

The two people at the heart of The Quantum Revolution were Albert Einstein and Niels Bohr. They are often described as close friends who, in being confronted with the consequences of their research, became adversaries in a debate about the structure of reality.

Both contributed to the overthrow of Newtonian physics as the universal explanation of natural forces. When introducing his theory of special relativity, Einstein dismissed the theory of the Aether (nowadays only used by radio hosts) and thereby broke with the idea of a universal frame of reference. According to the theories of relativity, the observers’ velocity and position relative to another observer can result in different experiences, in turn causing even time and space to bend. Although Einstein’s theories fairly quickly became widely accepted, the upheaval that they caused within physics was far-reaching and controversial. The tidy clockwork universe of Newton had been replaced by a universe in which the relative position of the observer played an important part. Influenced by his research, Bohr developed the model of the atom, and with a group of prominent physicists, he proposed one of the defining and most controversial ideas of quantum mechanics, the Principle of Complementarity. This principle roughly states that matter can behave as a wave or particle, depending on how it is being observed. In combination with Heisenberg’s Principle of Uncertainty, which states that it is not possible to know both the location and the mass of a particle at the same time, Bohr concluded that, at quantum level, it is principally impossible to see exactly what ‘is going on’, and that, as a consequence hereof, we cannot speak of a universe separate from the observation of it.

This was a groundbreaking statement. It instantly shattered the foundations of the traditional Western dualistic world view. It completely defies our daily experience of the world and our common sense. The materialistic heritage from Descartes was proven scientifically wrong, and the relationship between the observer and the observed had to be completely revaluated. ‘We’ were no longer ‘detached’ from a world ‘outside’, as such concepts are meaningless in quantum mechanics – somehow, there is interconnectivity between consciousness and the world. Einstein disproved Newton’s concept of a universal frame of reference and substituted it by the relative position of the observer, but to involve the act of observing into the equation was to break with the perceived objectivity of science itself. In addition, on a deeper level, if an observer influences the outcome of an experiment, then it is impossible to speak of a reality separate from the observer; the search for a Newtonian ‘truth’, any absolute truth, made no sense anymore. These implications led Einstein, during a nightly walk in Copenhagen, to ask a colleague: “…but, do you really believe the moon only exists when you look at it?”.

Einstein was a realist, he believed in a physical universe. His research was aimed at understanding how that physical universe worked, and eventually combine all of nature’s forces into a single theory, which would be able to contain and explain everything. He had proclaimed that two observers standing at different positions could see the universe differently and both would still be right, but he remained confident that somewhere beyond their observations that there still was a universe, indifferent to the individual observers. Bohr simply said that the two observers would see two different realities because they were looking for two different things, and that the two realities they saw were equally valid, even if they were contradictory. According to Bohr, there is no universe beyond the observations and there are no hidden variables.

Einstein could never come to terms with Bohr’s interpretation, known as The Copenhagen Interpretation, of quantum theory. He simply could not let go of his realist views, and consequently spent the rest of his life trying to find a flaw in the Copenhagen Interpretation. He devised brilliant thought experiments to try to prove Bohr wrong. It is in part thanks to Einstein’s intransigence that quantum mechanics became as successful as it did; he tested it to the limits of his genius, and yet, it didn’t budge. Bohr was able to refute all of Einstein’s thought experiments. For all of Einstein’s genius, his ability to relativize and see things from different perspectives, he was unable to let go of the solid world even when experiments proved him wrong. He had toppled the Newtonian universe of classical mechanics as a young man, but he could not bring himself to kill the absolute world that he so strongly believed in – there had to be something beyond the observations.

Bohr may not have been happy with the demise of the physical universe as he knew it, but he was able to accept the uncertainty and complementarity of the Copenhagen interpretation. He accepted that although science may be objective that does not mean its subject shares that objectivity – the truth is not out there.

There are many versions of the story of their friendship and how it gradually deteriorated because they disagreed on how to interpret the results of their research. These stories probably all exaggerate the animosity between the two former friends somewhat, but nevertheless eyewitnesses tell of how in their later years, at parties, they would be standing at opposite sides of a room, each with their own group of followers.


Scanning the brain is like scanning a computer with no screen.

©Rune Peitersen 2010

Although I have the utmost respect for scientific research and am personally fascinated by the field of neurology, recently I find myself questioning the methods used to gather information about brain activity, namely the measuring of electrical fields or electrical activity in the brain. Not the specific methods themselves, whether one uses electrodes or mri scans to determine brain activity is of no interest to me. Rather the thinking behind the research seems odd. What can one really hope to gather from measuring a certain area of activity? If a subject is stimulated in a certain manner e.g. hit on the finger, told to think of something nice or shown evocative imagery, then specific parts of the brain light up and the more the subject’s finger is hit, the more accurately the area in the brain can be pinpointed. But what does that really tell us?

There’s no metaphor I reject more than comparing the human brain to a computer, but in this particular case I think it is a valid metaphor. Scanning the brain and drawing conclusions from these scans about the human mind or the human experience of the world, is like removing the monitor from a pc, putting electrodes on the outside of the tower and hammering away at the keyboard. Indeed, certain key stroke combinations seem to evoke very specific responses from the tower, and with a little patience we might be able to piece together an idea of the anatomy of the inside of the computer i.e. motherboard, cpu, gpu, hard drive etc. We may discover that repeatedly hitting ctrl+alt+del invokes a specific response, there might even be a sound, but without the screen we can never know if we’re playing a game, surfing the web, photoshopping or have crashed.

It is an old dilemma of neurology, that whatever else it is, it is always the brain examining the brain. But this is looking for sparks and trying to guess their meaning, this is the brain projecting unto the brain.

The Cartesian theater of The Matrix and Avatar

©Rune Peitersen 2010

Both The Matrix and, more recently, Avatar feature the ability of the protagonist(s) to transfer their mind/consciousness to another (virtual) body. The premise seems to be Cartesian. The human consciousness is trapped somewhere inside our head or brain, but if we were able to ‘free’ it from its corporeal existence, there is nothing hindering it from taking possession of another body.

The modern day logic is the computer logic – we all have the same corporeal hardware and our software (mind) is therefore instantly compatible with any other body. All we need in order to transfer our software is an interface of some sort. In The Matrix this is done by connecting directly to an even bigger piece of hardware, whereas in Avatar it’s all wireless (of course, there are 10+ years between the two movies, but one can’t help notice the distinct tinker-toy PC-feel of The Matrix as opposed to the superficially smooth Apple experience of Avatar). In both cases the mind is ‘uploaded’ to another piece of hardware, and thereafter free to enter another reality where the rules and limitations of the ‘normal’ world don’t apply. IT-worker Mr. Anderson becomes an übercool, streetwise goth super hero, and the disabled soldier becomes a 3 meter tall, blue ‘warrior’ who rides an enormous dinosaur turkey and nails (or rather, ‘tails’) the daughter of the chief (I shudder at the thought, that the soldiers at bases in the US, who are remote controlling Predator drones in Afghanistan and elsewhere, might envision themselves undergoing similar ‘transformations’ when ‘going’ on missions).

Although mind and body seem to have little if any influence on each other, in both movies you still need a ‘real’ body. If your ‘real’ body dies, you’re dead. In The Matrix you die even if your virtual body dies – at least sometimes. In Avatar this is less of a problem; the big blue avatar vehicle can survive without the mind in a vegetative, brain-dead, state – very handy. Also, if you’re lucky, you can have your mind permanently transferred to the big blue body, but that takes a lot of processing power and all the blue people have to jack in to make that work. What happens to the original body after that, is somewhat unclear, but I like to imagine, that in true totemistic style, the heart and liver are ripped out of the still warm body and ritually devoured by the tribe (normally, I’d say the brain as well, but in this particular case, it’s safe to assume that it’s empty(?)).

Now, normally, the brain takes care of regulating a lot of the body’s vital functions. These include regulating temperature, breathing, heartbeat, hormone balance etc. etc. Since the bodies, which are left behind, in the movies don’t die completely, we must assume that the part of the mind which is transferred isn’t involved in any of these tasks. Likewise, sensory input is ‘taken care of’ by the new body, which seems to imply that either all brains are built exactly alike when it comes to e.g. the visual cortex regardless of what kind of eyes you have (goodbye environmental influence – and common sense), or the mind just settles in the driver’s seat of the new brain and lets all the sensory information come to it ‘from the outside’ (hello homunculus problem). In any case, the ongoing individual neural wiring of the brain (which starts as soon as the brain begins to evolve and is more personal and complex than a fingerprint the size of the moon) seems to play little or no part at all, which is good because that would present a problem – how would you get new memories or newly learned skills with you from one body to the other if memories and newly learned skills were brain structures? In fact, it’s probably safe to say, that the only aspects of the mind, which are transferred are: personality (whatever that is when detached from the bodily experience and the individually wired neural network), memory (whatever that is when detached from the bodily experience and the individually wired neural network) and emotions (whatever that is when detached from the bodily experience and and the individually wired neural network).

Anyway, the important thing is that it works. Apparently, we are told, it’s just a matter of the right technology before we can all become the heroes in our own lives – be what we were really meant to be – simply by uploading our ‘mind’ to another body. This is fortunate, because then we don’t have to worry about being ‘what we were really meant to be’ in our everyday lives, all we have to do is wait for the right technology to appear, and then we can be transformed into freedom fighters on far away planets or on a world dominated by machines. We can finally be as brave and bold as we know we really are. We will fight oppression, liberate some people and get the girl in the end. In other words, we can finally do all the stuff we were destined to do, but you can’t do in the real world…because you’re not allowed, or there are no oppressed people anywhere, no injustice and no girls either.

But, what if the technology isn’t developed within our lifetime?!? Luckily, the movies seem to deal with that eventuality as well. It’s a bit tricky, but nonetheless. By stating that the mind (or at least, the mythological 10% we care about) is kind of a separate thing from the body, it seems plausible that it could survive after we die as well – since the body isn’t really needed after all. And then perhaps after we die, we can go to a place where we can finally be ‘what we were really meant to be’, but were unable to be in our former life (for reasons mentioned above). This may sound vaguely familiar, and I can only assume that that is the noble intention of the film makers. To let us know it’s okay if we aren’t the heroes or even protagonists of our own lives, because in the Matrix/Pandora/Afterlife we will be. So, even though the movies may appear to be showing us something new, they are in fact telling us something old. They are giving us a 17th century view of the world dressed up in 21st century effects.

Thoughts on Simon Sheikh and COP15

©Rune Peitersen 2010

I followed the COP15 climate conference in Copenhagen, December 2009, through various media outlets, tv, live-streams, blogs etc. A lot of the domestic Danish policy-making leading up to the summit (and for the last 8-10 years in general) was characterized by the desire to stifle any opposing voices and make sure everything went as smoothly as possible. This, in modern Danish, means letting the big guy (USA) dictate the rules and outcome because his big and we’re small, and make sure that petit bourgeois ‘common sense’ and ‘decency’ prevail. It’s ok to voice a different opinion, to take it seriously, however, is ludicrous, and to actually suggest real change is subversive and dangerous. Luckily, a number of quickly adapted laws legalized the obscene number of house-arrests, ‘preventive’ mass arrests, wiretaps, closed courts, excessive police violence and paranoia, so that the dreaded large scale demonstrations and certain destruction of inner cities never had a chance to take place.

In many ways Denmark has shown itself to be a petri dish of the Western world in recent years. It is a welfare state with a very high (and pleasant) standard of living. Politically it has grown from a social democratic to a neoconservative state over the last 20 years or so (although, as is often the case in Europe, the Danish neoconservatism would in the US still be considered socialist). It has been a frontrunner in the Western “velvet fascism”[1] -movement – the minority government rules with the support of The Danish Peoples Party (whose leader Jȍrg Haider didn’t want to meet with, out of fear of being seen as too radical!). A populist fear mongering party, intensely and unabashedly against non-Western immigrants, proclaiming to stand up for the ‘real’ Danish people and their values, while enabling the government’s neoliberal agenda of undoing the social welfare state. The, from other countries well-known, downgrading of professionals, academics and intellectuals has been extremely successful in Denmark – to actually speak on the basis of knowledge, reflect on both sides of a given story or suggest that there is ‘something rotten in the state of Denmark’, must be considered ‘elitist’ and ‘out of touch’ in order for self-serving morons to remain in power. Needless to say the media hasn’t put up much of a fight. The fourth estate seems to have caved to its own corporate structure and accepted that there isn’t a lot of money in overthrowing (or just questioning) the system[2].

All of these factors create a climate of fear and distrust, which result in the rule of stupidity and intolerance. Add the ‘Idols’ and ‘Big Brother’-mentality of the popular tv-shows of the last decade and the dismantling of the public education system, and we end up with a large segment of the populace being unable to digest even the simplest thoughts and ideas. Naturally, they follow the bully who screams the loudest and seems to best resemble their own fearful nature. I have no doubt, that most of these people would willingly and happily turn on the gas if told so, just following orders.

However, the ‘culture war’ (typically named so by our previous prime minister, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, after American example) has also produced a growing awareness on the left, that it may not be enough to try and the change the system from within, the system itself has become the problem and is in need of an overhaul. The new combatants then become the neoliberal corporate interests on one hand, and the anti-globalists and ngo’s, the new left[3], on the other hand. What struck me at their latest battle, COP15, was the restraint the demonstrators exercised over themselves and their ‘troops’, and the lack of restraint displayed by the government’s ‘troops’. To me the growing underlying anger and discontent with the neoliberal mindset, should have produced some terrific clashes with ‘the system’, but to my surprise nothing happened. The reason for this, I believe, must be found in the organization of the anti-globalists, through the use of mobile phones and internet they were able to keep everybody very tight and controlled within their ranks. Secondly, I believe they wanted to give ‘the old system’ one last chance, perhaps Obama would really deliver, perhaps China isn’t all about profit and perhaps here, in the petri dish of the west, with all its social control and green energy, the world as we know it could still be saved. As we know COP15 failed on all fronts, and my guess is that next time the anti-globalists won’t feel compelled to show neither hope nor restraint.

In In the Place of the Public Sphere? Or, the World in Fragments[4] Simon Sheikh writes:

” I would suggest that we take our point of departure in precisely the unhinging of stable categories and subject positions, in the interdisciplinary and intermediary, in the conflictual and dividing, in the fragmented and permissive – in different spaces of experience, as it were.”

Although the outset here is theoretical, it is not difficult to see how this can be a call for practical action as well.

In the “The Artist as a Public Intellectual” he concludes that the role of the artist, the public intellectual, in society has changed as a consequence of the changing of the Enlightenment public sphere into an commodity driven model, which demands a different kind of exchange between the subject (the intellectual) and its ‘recipient’ (the public). The classical educational exchange between teacher and student is supplanted by the consumerism of the market space. This also influences the institutions representing the art, so that museums are judged by e.g. the number of tickets sold at a given exhibition, instead of the intellectual or artistic properties of the art and its representation. He describes how the concept of the intellectual as the teacher (holder/giver of knowledge) has been turned into an idea of the ‘creative elite’ as the desirable (“organic”) intellectual because he generates a product as well as an audience – the tricky part seems to be determining “… whether they are in the service of capital or the cultural industry or in its counter-movement, a struggle for the multitude.”

So, in order to escape the connotations of the market-driven public sphere, and, I suppose, the highly market driven art-world, the public intellectual must engage in the creation ‘counter-publics’ (or counter-public spheres). These counter-publics should not be seen as contra the public sphere, but existing ‘outside’ of this sphere, possibly in re-conquered or redefined ‘space’ (e.g. the gay parks [4]). The self-organization and self-institutionalization becomes a strategy to disengage from the experience-driven cultural industry, and a hallmark seems to be the desire to be boring. This seems logical given the anti-intellectual climate mentioned earlier; in the search for an experience or in the obtaining of knowledge more profound than what is offered by the market-driven cultural industry, one must seem boring (and elitist) to someone who is not able to distinguish the difference. It seems to me, that many of the counter-public structures simply revive models, which in the public sphere have grown too large, become market-driven or underfunded – their critique is of the surrounding structure that led to the decay of the model, not the original model itself (Copenhagen Free University is an example hereof, the original model being the university).

In his final critique he confronts us with the decayed model of the art world as it has developed in the Western world.

In Western welfare states the cultural field has traditionally been seen as ideally autonomous from the political sphere, and has thus been structured, financed and institutionalized as a separate entity, something apart from the political as an independent public sphere. Strangely, it is also this relative autonomy that has supplied the cultural field with its potential for political critique and discussion – that it has been removed from direct political representation and control, allowing for a different production of knowledge and reflexive processes. Unfortunately, it is also this relative autonomy that has led to a de-politicization of cultural production and the configuration of the art world as an elitist, exclusive club.

The relative luxurious position of the Western artist has removed art from political thinking, possibly elevating it to higher intellectual grounds, but also made the art(ist) non-consequential in terms of directly influencing society. He does, however, seem to conclude, that art is needed in order to fight the “…expansive global capitalism, corporatization of culture and criminalization of the critical left…”. Luckily, art can still redeem itself and become a tool for good[5]: ” It is our firm belief that the cultural field is a usable tool for creating political platforms and new political formations rather than a primary platform in itself; that art matters, or at least should matter and not only be a playground for self expression and/or analysis.”

As I was following the events at COP15 live on my computer screen from 3-4 different cameras and several live blogs, it struck me for the first time in my life, that I wish I had been there, in the front line of these seemingly pathetic demonstrations. Just to show, that I disagree, just to stand on the right side. The demonstrations were declared illegal as soon as they started, the police moved in using excessive force, arrested the organizers, and made sure absolutely no dissenting noise was heard. It was such a display of misguided use of power, it was sickening. And worse still, according to opinion polls app. half the Danish population thought the police had done an excellent job, and anyway couldn’t quite see what all these activists were doing there in Copenhagen. Such ignorance. Finally, my home country had revealed itself completely, and it was naked and shivering, no clothes at all, but still acting like an emperor.

I went to Copenhagen to celebrate Xmas with my family. It happened to be the same day Obama arrived, so it was difficult getting from the airport. I spoke to friends and family about my outrage and how I felt as an expat. I read a lot of op-eds in the newspapers and realized that the country is extremely polarized. That a lot is being done to counter the developments of the last 10 years and that a lot of people are ashamed of the direction. But what can you do? If you wish to play by the rules, how then can you change anything? And more importantly, what can I do? How can I as an artist influence the world around me?

According to Simon Sheikh:  “Art matters, certainly, but art is not enough.” – I cannot accept that, but I fear I have to. Art in its present form certainly is not enough. And, yes, I’m sure there comes a point when the artist too must “take arms against a sea of trouble”, but until then, there must be a way for art to reclaim influence in the world. Perhaps the counter-publics and tactical self-institutions are the best way. If a counter-culture can be established which champions elitist values as tolerance and knowledge, and sees the nation state as a vehicle for protecting the weak not a marketplace for profit, then there might still be hope for the western world.

January 2010

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[1] Simon Sheikh – Representation, Contestation and Power: The Artist as a Public Intellectual

[2] A few exceptions can be found, of course.

[3] Which I will use as a term to cover activists, ngo’s, anti-globalists, self-institutionalized institutions etc.

[4] In the Place of the Public Sphere? Or, the World in Fragments, [06/2004], http://www.republicart.net

[5] “Join me, Luke, I am your father”, “No, never!”