Happy For No Reason is an exhibition crossed by several streams of questions. Technical reproduction, hijacking and quotations of art-historical references are some of the paths that can be taken to travel through the show.
L.G.B.T.Q. post-card rack creates a ready-made reminiscent of Duchamp’s détournement of the Mona Lisa (with and without a moustache) under which he had written L.H.O.O.Q. (She has a hot ass): Claire Fontaine transforms this playful gesture into a statement about gender ambiguity (largely present in Leonardo’s paintings) and a message that can be taken home or sent off as a post-card about the general confusion of our sexual identities and desires.
The experience of peering at images through screens that, being fragile, often break is typically contemporary. The two light-boxes Lament and Don’t fix it reproduce, through the aesthetics of advertising light-boxes that are found in airports and shopping malls, images seen through a cracked phone screen. Covering a detail of Giotto’s Mourning over dead Christ and a photograph of Duchamp’s The Bride Stripped Naked by her Bachelors Even the breakages modify our perception of both forms and contents and, once enlarged, appear as irreparable.
My Ass is a sculpture that references the rumor according to which the true author of the urinal was Dadaist artist and poet Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven, a close friend of Duchamp giving him the nickname of M’Ars (a pun playing on the sounds ‘Mars’, the god of war, and ‘my ass’). The bidet functions as a feminized counterpoint to the iconic urinal, whose aura is resolutely masculine.
Evil/Good quotes the familiar Apple logo but without its characteristic missing part, as if Eve’s original sin never took place and the separation between good and evil, false and true were still in place.
I, We, Yes; Je communique, ils surveillent; On vous intoxique and Retour à la normale hijack posters made in the Paris’s Ècole de Beaux-Arts silkscreen studios in May ’68. These silkscreens have been reproduced and transformed, preserving the imperfections of their original versions.
Anemic Moon displays an image lifted from a campaign of the Egyptian Red Crescent inviting people to donate blood. Red liquid flows into an arm from a crescent moon, strongly suggesting that help and compassion instead of war are needed in the Muslim world. Claire Fontaine’s reflection on the fragility of private property in our society is pursued in two sculptures.
2228 W. 7th Street, 2nd Floor (entrance on S. Grand View St.), Los Angeles, CA 90057 is a copy of the gallery keys made out of a soft metallic alloy realized with the technique of instant moulding borrowed from the FBI. The keys can only be used once to enter the gallery without permission, therefore they have a use value, but it’s use destroys the artwork by making it into a tool.
The Passe-Partout (Hollywood) http://www.lysator.liu.se/mit-guide/mit-guide.html http://www.hackerethic.org http://www.lockpicks.com http://www.lockpicking101.com http://www.gregmiller.net/locks/makelockpicks.html references the #metoo scandal that shook the American movie industry in the past years and evokes the contradictions of a world that creates dangerously frustrating desires in its audience and at its core. Passe-partouts are an ongoing series of sculptures fabricated from anonymous instructions given to possible thieves that anyone can find on line. They imply a certain number of artisanal manipulations on vulgar and cheap objects (saw blades, bicycle spokes, paper clips). But the potential use value present within the object alludes to the possibility of troubling the usual circulation of private property and inevitably evokes the problematic of theft and appropriation. The addition of small touristic gadgets introduces an ironic glance on the relationship of the artists to work-related trips and the gains or losses that accompany them. The passe-partouts are also small metaphors of unofficial means that are used to open all sorts of doors that one often finds closed in everyday life.
Newsfloor is an immersive site-specific installation that sensibly alters the perception of the white cube, giving to the space a feeling of floatation. The conceptual background of the work is related to both the primary and the secondary use of newsprint, with the dematerialization of information and the online availability of its content, printed press has become increasingly devalued and can literally be used to walk upon. The processes referred to as “fake news” are in fact structural adjustments of the role of journalism in an increasingly decaying democracy that can no longer protect free press.
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The luxury of making sense
“One day he told me and Gallese: “I know a group of researchers in Marseille, they work on the way smells provoke emotions, this could make it possible to verify if there are mirror neurons for empathy” “How?” we asked. “By using smells that provoke certain emotions and showing at the same time faces that express similar emotions. At this point we can check if in both cases the same areas are activated.” (…) We found then that the same voxels, meaning the same dots in the maps of the functional magnetic resonance, were activated whilst the emotion was evoked by natural stimulations (for example the smell of rotten eggs) and when the subjects were seeing – in fact reading – the same emotion, disgust, in the other. We saw immediately that (…) other people’s emotions weren’t “cognitively” understood but they were felt “directly” as one’s own.”
G. Rizzolatti, A. Gnoli, In te mi specchio, 2016.
If the physical consequences of starvation are known, and we are all familiar with the permanent or ephemeral damage that lack of food causes to the body, we are less informed about the ways in which other deprivations mutilate and irreparably transform us. Living in debt, for example, cripples the soul. Anxiety kills empathy. Fear destroys dignity. Poverty means, above all, that people cannot be certain things, cannot know what life could be if they weren’t economically deprived of their ability to exist. Ultimately people in need, by withdrawing their freedom and their emotional intelligence from the world, dilapidate the patrimony of humanity, erode our capacity to understand each other. And in the desert of their absence, racism, cruelty and indifference grow.
Fifty years ago in many western countries a revolt of young workers and students exploded to reclaim a different life, where love and the exploration of the body could be an important part of everyone’s existence. This meant untying subjectivities from the debt to society, detaching them from the limiting position of being pure workforce or a workforce to be, from having to fight a war or obey their oppressors.
Feminism began to say then – and it’s still saying today – that all we know about love is a patriarchal fairy tale, told over and over again with the sole intention of enchanting an unacceptable state of things. Love is yet to be invented: the simple fact that poverty still exists proves it.
“After several episodes, the knight, who has been received in the castle where his lady is, declares his love to her and is rebuffed. During a long colloquy (…) the knight (…) succeeds in placing a ring on her finger. When later she becomes aware of the ruse, she angrily sends for the knight and demands that he takes back the ring (…) Taking it back, he said “Many thanks;/ Surely the gold has not tarnished,/ if it returns from that lovely hand.”/ She smiled, for the thought that/ he would replace the ring on his;/ but instead he did a shrewd thing/ that later brought him great joy./ He leaned over the pool,/ which was but a span and a half/ in depth, so he did not fail/ to see in the clear water/ the reflection of that lady/ whom he loved more than anything/ in the world. “Know then,” he said,/ “in a world, I will not take it back,/ but my sweet friend will have it, whom/ I love best after yourself.”/ “God!” she answered, “we are alone here,/ where will you find her so quickly?”/ “I swear it, soon you will be shown/ the valorous and noble who will have it.”/ “Where is she?” “By God see her there, look/ at your beautiful reflection that awaits./ For you,” he said, “my sweet friend!”/ As my lady does not wish it,/ You will take it – do not refuse.”/ The water was a bit troubled,/ as the ring fell into it;/ and, when the reflection was dissolved:/ “Behold,” he said, “lady, now she has it.” G. Agamben, Stanzas, 1993
In Le Lai de l’Ombre, the most admired poem by the Norman trouvère Jean Renart, a knight, who is courting a lady, seeks her spiritual love and nevertheless idolizes her physical image. The lady’s reflection on a pool’s surface finally accepts the ring and the engagement that the woman in the flesh had refused: they live happily ever after. When Renart was writing these lines, the streets of French cities were littered with bodies of homeless people, the muddy roads of the countryside were infested with vagrants fleeing their empty houses and sterile fields to seek survival. The crackdown on contraception and infanticide at that point was so hard that the number of poor, vagabonds and beggars had swollen to unprecedented proportions. In 1179 pope Alexander III condemned in his speech, at the second Lateran council, the parasitical system of loans in place, the mort-gage – which caused people to lose not only their property but the usage and the gains of their business, leaving them with no hope of ever regaining self-sufficiency – but the loan sharks kept strangling the population causing epidemics and endemic misery. Illness and food shortage hit Anjou in 1124, famine decimated Aquitaine between 1161 and 1162 and starvation created an army of deracinated peasants between the Seine and the Escaut in 1197. Mollat writes in Les pauvres au Moyen-Age: “many were forced by such cruel necessity that they took a path contrary to their habits, became criminals and died hung”. Each one of the people who then perished of sickness and hunger, were taken to the scaffold or burnt as witches, often without anyone remembering their name or shedding a tear, if put in the knight’s shoes could have displayed the same delicate sensibility and offered, after a passionate discussion, their love to the trembling image of their beloved one reflected by the surface of a clear pond.
“I have experienced a real regret for the original integrity from which I’ve felt I had taken my distances: in the disorientation of desiring the resonance of another lost woman, I became aware of myself” C. Lonzi, È già politica, 1977
Mirror neurons, latest researches have proven it, are responsible not only for our empathy but for our capacity of feeling things as if they were happening to us or we were the ones doing them, although we are just watching them. We don’t need to be told that people are in pain to feel the urge to help them when we see them suffering. The reasons that prevent us from doing it are the same that prevent us from thinking, experimenting, being courageous: we can’t afford it. The luxury of making sense belongs to radical feminists, prison abolitionists, incorruptible philanthropists, war doctors and fearless reporters. Otherwise economy always wins, small calculations are integrated to our selective capacity of recognizing ourselves in others, we live in denial of the evidence of communism. Lonzi writes in her diary a disturbing tale about the social fabric that connects us: “the way she was she couldn’t have helped me, but in the group that I had formed she had found a way of becoming herself and of pushing me to do the same. So I’ve understood why I had made feminism: in order to make Sara exist, so that she could make me exist”. We can keep ignoring what ties our destiny to the one of others, not see them as our mirrors, neglect what we could have in common, but by doing so we might lose the only possibility that was offered to us of giving a meaning to life. And making sense will remain the ultimate luxury which less and less people will be able to afford.
Claire Fontaine, Los Angeles, 9/6/18
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For her second exhibition at Gaga Arte Contemporáneo, Claire Fontaine has lowered the ceiling of the gallery transforming it into a support to burn an excerpt of Lidia Falcon’s book Letters to a Spanish Idiot. The text describes the vicious circle of unpaid and unrecognized labour: domestic work is a perpetual movement, a repetition with imperceptible differences, a continuous reproduction of material life, that very same material life that is regenerated just to be exploited and exploited just because it will be regenerated.
The expression Ploughing the sea is the title of the exhibition and refers to the work of Sisyphus that we all do day after day in order to participate in a system visibly corrupt and devoured by crisis.
The sculpture entitled Missing, composed of the barrels from several shotguns, evokes violence as a problem and as a solution. The now concealable sawn-off shotguns are not exhibited, leaving the viewer with the doubt that they could possibly be in use somewhere else.
Untitled (Black dildo washer) is a domestic dishwasher filled with black latex dildos. The dildo, being the symbol of the deepest promiscuity between the object and human flesh, becomes here an industrial washable tool to be reused by others within an anonymous chain of consumption of satisfaction.
Money Trap is a perforated safe where the hole cut in the door – like the one made to trap monkeys – allows an open hand to enter but blocks a fist holding an object from getting out.
Claire Fontaine, Mexico City, January 2011
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For the inaugural exhibition of Galeria Gaga in Mexico City, Claire Fontaine presents a series of paintings, two smoke drawings and two neon signs.
Capitalism is not working, evokes the problematic status of contemporary painting between the mystic and monetary, between the secret paintings and the money paintings. The spectator is here relegated to the position of the indiscreet observer spying upon the repetitive composition of pin numbers at an ATM. The moment of the anonymous transaction of financial fluxes, represented by simplified hands without a body, recalls many other hands, very visible and often gloved, that more and more often take in charge the economy of our lives.
The traits of Mao obliterated by the sentence “capitalism is not working” say something about the failure of that old phantom of capitalism that Maoism has been, while the portraits of Marilyn manifest the link between the cult of the personality and the technical reproduction of images, in Warhol’s work and everywhere else. The texts that disfigure these faces tell a story, as if in superimposition, to be read or to be written by a “we” which is still potential.
AMERIKA and CAPITALISM KILLS are maquettes for two signs to be realised with strip lights, in a font titled K. in homage to Kafka. These refer to the sad tradition of the migrants and function as monuments to their endlessly broken dreams.
The moral of the story told by Claire Fontaine in this exhibition is that at the heart of the most arrogant commercial prosperity a shameful poverty proliferates, and that in the midst of Third World deprivation priceless wealth multiplies.
Marxist analytical tools leave us powerless if we want to grasp the recent moment when the bourgeoisie has ceased to be ashamed of itself and has launched a new season of class struggle on a planetary scale. But now we know clearly that when they talk about economy and rationalisation it’s affects and desires that are at stake. And by the way you only have one minute left to type your pin number and to imagine all the possible worlds that your everyday automatisms let suffocate.