Just as the early decades of the twenty-first century were an era of independent curators and artists, they will be followed by a period when interdependent curatorial and artistic practices will emerge, solidify and thrive. This might sound like an expression of unfounded hope, in dark times marked by a pandemic, economic crisis and political obscurantism. Nevertheless, we must hope that interdependence is not a whimsical delusion, but rather a firm foundation for a coherent theoretical and practical programme. I follow here in the footsteps
to draw forth a more striking, moving dramatic painting in which speech, gesture, and passionate expression create living art.’5 By contrast, the present chapter seeks to question the paragonal model of ekphrasis, and argues that The Spanish Tragedy highlights drama’s interdependence with, rather than superiority to, other forms of art. The chapter also suggests that the play’s interest in ekphrasis opens up larger questions about borrowing, imitation, and collaboration. Such concerns are reproduced on the level of plot: Hieronimo’s quest for a suitable
prefecture. The two case studies in this chapter draw on interviews with the CEOs of Kaihara and Japan Blue and documents from both companies. The examples fit perfectly within a comparative, historical study of Japanese premium denim and jeans. On the one hand, the case studies demonstrate that producing denim, the fabric, is a different story and needs a different strategy from producing jeans, the garment. On the other, the two stories are also closely related because of interdependence between the two industries; Kaihara, for example, dyes Japan Blue’s woven cotton
already thought by someone else – and that for every opportunity out there, hundreds of equally competent individuals will be competing, most of whom are fellow → art workers . So better to have done with those squabbles and focus our energies on bringing about a world where all those talents will not go to waste – and where ideas can multiply in the process of → generous exchange. But to get this done, projectarians need to engage in a project larger than themselves, stay with the → struggle and exercise their shared → interdependence in practice and not only in
, but art occupations are definitely occupations, what connects them? They are each an example of what I call → productive withdrawals , and all are exercises in the tricky art of → herding cats . Cats do not recognise shepherding by an external authority, but rather swarm together and act in accordance with their shared interests, testifying to the capacity of ‘independent’ creatives to wage long-term → struggles . By acting upon their own → interdependence , they turn atomised and fruitless networking (→ N is for networker ) into a weapon. Just as they are able
authors (Wright 2013 ). Similarly, projectarians – instead of competing for authorship of ideas or projects – should embrace their own interconnectedness and engage in the processes of cooperative creativity for the benefit of everyone involved (→ I is for interdependence ).
individual status and constitute fragile yet real safety nets of mutual sympathy and → generosity that engender trust and facilitate friendships. This social glue brings critical practitioners together, not reliant on the competitive mechanisms of global artistic circulation, exercising their → interdependence in the real world. One example of such a support network is the Pirate Care group that emerged in the transitional zone between Croatia and the UK in 2019 and riffs on the legacy of both → art workers and hackers’ movements. This is how the group presents
The major part of this book project was funded by the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under the Marie Sklodowska-Curie grant agreement No. 700913.
This book is about two distinct but related professional cultures in late Soviet Russia that were concerned with material objects: industrial design and decorative art. The Russian avant-garde of the 1920s is broadly recognised to have been Russia’s first truly original contribution to world culture. In contrast, Soviet design of the post-war period is often dismissed as hackwork and plagiarism that resulted in a shabby world of commodities. This book identifies the second historical attempt at creating a powerful alternative to capitalist commodities in the Cold War era. It offers a new perspective on the history of Soviet material culture by focusing on the notion of the ‘comradely object’ as an agent of progressive social relations that state-sponsored Soviet design inherited from the avant-garde. It introduces a shared history of domestic objects, handmade as well as machine-made, mass-produced as well as unique, utilitarian as well as challenging the conventional notion of utility. Situated at the intersection of intellectual history, social history and material culture studies, this book elucidates the complexities and contradictions of Soviet design that echoed international tendencies of the late twentieth century. The book is addressed to design historians, art historians, scholars of material culture, historians of Russia and the USSR, as well as museum and gallery curators, artists and designers, and the broader public interested in modern aesthetics, art and design, and/or the legacy of socialist regimes.
The challenge of the sublime argues that the unprecedented visual inventiveness of the Romantic period in Britain could be seen as a response to theories of the sublime, more specifically to Edmund Burke’s Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1757). While it is widely accepted that the Enquiry contributed to shaping the thematics of terror that became fashionable in British art from the 1770s, this book contends that its influence was of even greater consequence, paradoxically because of Burke’s conviction that the visual arts were incapable of conveying the sublime. His argument that the sublime was beyond the reach of painting, because of the mimetic nature of visual representation, directly or indirectly incited visual artists to explore not just new themes, but also new compositional strategies and even new or undeveloped pictorial and graphic media, such as the panorama, book illustrations and capricci. More significantly, it began to call into question mimetic representational models, causing artists to reflect about the presentation of the unpresentable and the inadequacy of their endeavours, and thus drawing attention to the process of artistic production itself, rather than the finished artwork. By revisiting the links between eighteenth-century aesthetic theory and visual practices, The challenge of the sublime establishes new interdisciplinary connections which address researchers in the fields of art history, cultural studies and aesthetics.
ethos of → interdependence , these institutions did not want to → capture this effort by claiming ownership, but rather supported it, whilst giving space for the coalition to emerge organically. The semi-secret structure of the Year, with an anonymous steering collective, was the iteration of → radical pragmatism : not only efficient, but also avoiding any potential backlash from the authorities, wanting to ensure that cultural producers toe the official party line. The Year managed to achieve such scope by tapping into the social energies and