Then, on a trip to the Netherlands I saw some that I couldn’t shake from my mind. The writing was psychotic and recognizable; the type of vandalistic scribbling that would never be called art. The texts were in Dutch, and relayed reactions to what art might be with statements like: “Absolute fucking retards calling this art and daring to call themselves artists,” or, ‘‘I can’t wait until the day when the average taxpayer determines what art is and isn’t.”

I’m the average taxpayer and whoever wished this, just made it happen for me. Significant cuts to state art and culture subsidies created hot debate over contemporary art and its value in the Netherlands last summer. Taken from Internet chatter concerned with this so-called cultural meltdown, like so much media, these sentences were copy and paste, but not credited. They now belonged to a project by Dutch artist Jeroen Jongeleen.

As the arts and cultural sector assessed its wounds and looked for sustainable opportunities in the ashes, the government gained broad support for what appeared as a shortsighted populist appeal to attack an elitist industry. Inspired by the overall vulgarity of the debate, Jongeleen’s mixed media intervention both documents and provokes the conversation.

Claiming other people’s opinions, he reframed civil sentiment by reproducing these reactions on salvaged furniture in an act, which returned public reflections to the public domain as clear hooliganism.

The project takes an interesting twist when these sentiments are exhibited as art and posed directly to this presumed cultural elite. How will an expert analyze this? Will he take offense? Purchase it to hang next to a ‘classic.’ Will she consider the salvaged materials, recycled opinions or historical context of such a dialectical disfiguration?

Featured at Art Rotterdam and a solo exhibition at the Upstream Gallery, indoors the handwriting sharpens and the rude tone becomes a comical, poignant and undoubtedly fearless inquiry. Hooliganism becomes equally crass humor. The language doesn’t change, but the context and meaning do. They change again as Jongeleen translates these phrases to English, reminding us that the sentiments of the late 1930’s could come back in style while offering an example of socially conscious contemporary art.

‘The sort of art only understood by idiots.’

Click here to view the embedded video.

Jeroen Jongeleen

“No Style, reflections of public statements on art.”

Upstream Gallery / 4 Feb – 17 Mar

The project began with a simple text that outlined rules for a game in which players would create their own pieces, using a standard set of tools and an imposed color scheme to become the author’s of a game that transformed urban environments into its playing field. Inspired by ludo-centric artistic interventions and the real life social networking of Graffiti and other street art movements, the project was launched in 2002. As many artists created work, which was reactive to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, Jongeleen’s project took a more playful approach to encouraging civil action.

After publishing the original project text, one by one more than 500 people in 40 cities began to play AOUW on the streets where they live. Comically, this also led to the artist’s integration under suspicion of terrorism and eventual deletion of the project website and communications. More interestingly, with images included from various real and fictive wars, the game creates a dialogue of imagery that comments on human history in a way populist slogans and failed pleas for world peace are not able to. The aesthetics of war do not change, but the conversation does, in this shift from seriousness to play.

Traditionally, the second weekend of September is the time for the festival ‘Wereld van Witte de With’.

The street that lends the festival its name, is the stage for European art by young artists. To let art invade public space is the main statement, but walking down the street I find out that not much is happening. Maybe due to the cars driving up and down the street. Every year before the Witte de Withstraat was closed off for traffic. This year, art and people are permitted on the walkway only. Maybe due to the overkill of prohibition signs and fences. Or maybe just because most of the artworks disappoint me.

Scattered around town are white bicycles with enormous wooden bouquets of flowers attached to them. Banksy bouquets, made by the art-mediators of Mothership. Was it really necessary to copy someone else’s work?

But they are not the only copycats here. Under the name Kimberly Clark go Rotterdam based artists Iris van Dongen, Eveline van der Griendt and Ellemieke Schoenmaker. Normally, they undertake night-time campaigns which are reflected in photos and installations. For the festival they commemorate W.P.: a 70s activist who started giving political activists texts on the walls of Amsterdam a literary-artistic sway. Now, Kimberly Clark (yes indeed, from the toilet paper) uses his vintage slogans on banners and posters to find out if his statements are still fresh today. Why not make your own statement?

On the corner of the street, Jeroen Jongeleen casually folds notes. He stuffed the trunk of his car with 200 million Euro, right there for everyone to grab: ‘Free Money for All’! A semi-nice gesture directed to the Dutch government, that is planning to cut the cultural sector exactly that amount of money short. The night before, he started wasting his money. People jumped in his car, started throwing notes in the air, dancing. At the end of the night, the street was filled with millions. Still, he seems to be a little bit disappointed too. Not only because he had to hold the cleaning crew away from his artwork, but also because most of the involved artists seem to waste the opportunity to make a statement. I cannot do more than agree.

While sitting in front of Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, something strikes my ears and eyes. Just behind me, two guys are trying to plant a very pointy golden foot in between the tiles of the walkway, to hold something yet unidentified. It looks like it is supposed to hold yet another sign. When they finally succeed, they leave. The golden foot still empty. Only later I realize that I was witness to an intervention by Rotterdam artist Joost Goudriaan. We already know his Chesterfield Park Bench and Antique Walnut Litter bin, but for the festival he adds an extra touch of dignity to signs in the public space again. His sophisticated wooden walkway sign and another one in leather clash heavily with the ‘official’ banner hovering over the street, stating that drinking outside the fences will have consequences.

Also Swedish artist Michael Johansson lightens up the event. In between two buildings, he created an ingenious construction of colorful furniture that resembles the old-school game of Tetris. It is surprising, fun, yet impressive. Some other interesting projects are on display inside the galleries, cultural centers and exhibition spaces.

‘To All Tomorrows Parties’ at TENT for example. It excavates the thin line between art and performance; between the ‘right there before your eyes’ and the ephemeral. Abner Preis has set up a bloody clownesque mess. A cardboard piano floats in the air, while the viewers dressed up in red noses and colorful shirts watch the video. In front of the screen lie an empty bottle of whiskey, more cardboard stage props and puddles of blood: it is painful to pretend to be happy all the time. Especially in times like these.

Because of the contemporary cost cutting, cutting-edge exhibition spaces, post-academies and specialized workshops are turning into an endangered species. In the meantime, the whole art loving society is brainstorming on a solution. TENT hosts a series of lectures called ‘State of the Art’. Here the people who seem to care, talk about art and the near future. What can be done? But more importantly, what is being done already?

Stop wining and start thinking clearly, seems to be the message. Whether an event like ‘Wereld van Witte de With’ is the produce of a society in despair, or just a missed opportunity, I would like to leave open here.

by MILOU VAN OENE

The story goes (more or less historically correct) like this: Some when in the early 17th century the Dutch realized that flooding the low lying areas formed an excellent defense against enemy troops. Combined with natural bodies of water, it could be used to transform the economic heartland of the Netherlands almost into an island. Flooding the lowlands was all good and well and worked for centuries to keep horse riding, and later motorized, enemies out. But….

During the following 100 years the main Dutch defense line would be the New Waterline, which was further extended and modernized in the 19th century. But the apparently feeble efforts to modernize couldn’t help the Dutch in the advent of the Second World War, when German troops mounted their airplanes and started the aerial bombing and dropping masses of parachuting krauts.

This whole summer, from June 11 until September 15, Fort of Asperen, part of the New Dutch Waterline, will be the scene for a large international group exhibition curated by Bik van der Pol.

Fort of Asperen was erected in the 19th Century, but it was not until 12 April 1940 that the Fort was first prepared for war. As I lay out above, the New Dutch Waterline became immediately obsolete as the German Luftwaffe flew over the Fort without problems. This particular moment marked the end of the New Waterline’s military function.

As they explain:
“Too Late, Too Little, (and how) to Fail Gracefully is inspired by the irony of Fort’s military past. This summer the Fort will be home to a large scale multidisciplinary manifestation, that reflects on the impossibility and undesirability of building fortifications and creating expectations that are not (or cannot be) met.

“The project is articulated around the theme of ‘intruders’ and looks critically and with some irony to to societal boundaries and barriers. When do we perceive the other as a threat? How are social barriers erected and how are these undermined? The manifestation strives, through artists projects and activities, to incite a broad audience to think about how territories are defined. Do borders indeed offer desired safety and protection? Or are they merely a mental construct?

“The various artists projects and activities are developed under code-names, such as Trojan Horses, The Historical Fort, Early Warning Systems, Smokescreens and Camouflage, the Campaign and Infiltrators – opening the project to historical and contemporary issues, from ecology to warfare, internet developments and information terrorism, ownership and collectivity. The manifestation consists an exhibition and public program mediated by an embedded publicity campaign, in the fort and its surroundings, with lectures, film screenings, installations, performances, and more.”

Recruited artists include: Lara Almarcegui, Tarek Atoui, Marc Bijl, André Cadère/Alain Fleischer, Critical Art Ensemble, Teddy Cruz, Martijn Engelbregt, Tim Etchells/Vlatka Horvat, Harun Farocki, Zachary Formwalt, Freddy Heineken, Runa Islam, Jeroen Jongeleen, Otto Karvonen, Jasper Niens, Navid Nuur, the Mobile Academy/Hannah Hurtzig, Cesare Pietroiuisti, Åsa Sonjasdotter, Hito Steyerl, Pilvi Takala, Javier Telléz, Nomeda &Gediminas Urbonas, The Yes Men, Artur Żmijewski.

Check the link below for more info.

Too late, too little, (and how) to fail gracefully
Location: Kunstfort Asperen, Langedijk 60, 4151 BR Acquoy, The Netherlands
Open: Tuesday-sunday 10 am – 5 pm

Images are a courtesy of Jeroen Jongeleen form his exhibition The Inside Job at the Boijmans van Beuningen. Jeroen, a.k.a. Influenza will be performing as tour guide through the hidden city collection