Difficult Communication (pertaining to Lygia Clark)

Clark2

Play, you see, can be more difficult than work,
and no easy task for an adult.
George Sheehan
Deep meaning lies often in childish play.
Friedrich Schiller

 

Lygia Clark may have expected too much from her audience when she started to create her hinged metal objects in 1960.  Collectively, she named an entire series Bichos (Creatures).  Not only did she want the spectators to touch and manipulate these sculptures, but she also declared that they were not the actual subject of her communication.  It was the experience created by the spectators that represented the work of art.  This experience was also meant to be observed with an open mind in order to discover the meaning of these activities.  For the art world this constituted a totally new paradigm and a very tall order.

While her sculptures invited playful interaction, her audience was mired in the traditional approach of simply standing in front of the artwork and passively looking at it.  On their own, the spectators created the customary distance that Clark wanted to abolish.  They diverted the intentions of the artist in a rather unyielding manner.

Guy Brett, a London-based art critic, wrote: Clark herself fought a constant battle for people to be able to continue to handle and play with the sculptures after they had passed into public and private collections.  They were never intended to be merely looked at (Art in America, 1994).

Alessandra Clark, Lygia’s granddaughter, relates:  On many occasions, Lygia had problems during her openings when she asked people to play with her works, but collectors started picking up the works that they had purchased because they didn't want people to touch them.

It is clear that Clark collided head-on with the deeply engrained norms and values of the establishment.  But it is also clear that this same establishment is guilty of violating and perverting the intrinsic values in art, and in particular Clark’s own principles.  Even after she declared that the object is no longer important, the collectors didn’t care.  Against her will, they absconded with the sculptures to protect them from the greasy fingers of the unwelcome “participants.”  They took Clark’s tool for communication and made it into a valuable commodity.  They supplanted the values and principles of art - creativity, communication, self-expression, and cultural contribution – with the alien system of material worth and speculative commerce.  In short, money superseded culture.

These are exactly the same objectionable developments that the group of conceptual artist rebelled against at the same time. (See Leo Castelli obstacle No. 2)  On both fronts, the tangible art object, that could be misused, became a questionable entity.  The conceptual artists created only documentations of ideas (or concepts).  Clark won the battle against the investor set by creating playful events without valuable objects.

Clark       
Tunnel 1973

More than most PlayArt artist, Clark emphasized the meaning of the interaction.  She was more interested in the emotional experience than in the physical manipulation.  When the manual activities did not involve the participant to the extent she had intended, she thought of ways to include the entire body to make the experiences more fully encompassing.  So she started to wrap people in fabrics and plastics and she created experiences that were emotionally totally absorbing.

Excerpts of an interview with Vera Pedrosa (Morning Post, Rio de Janeiro, 1968) reveal Lygia Clark’s own view of her work:

LC:  At present, the focus of my work is primarily the experience.  I propose that the spectator should discover the meaning of his activity.  Basically, the object as such is no longer important, it is the experience, the sensations the object provides, it is the act that matters.
VP:  Working with these objects, who provides the meaning? 
LC:  The spectator does.  My propositions provide different experiences to different viewers.  At the same time, they can search their own set of experiences for instances that are similar to those of others.
VP:  Do you think communication in art has acquired a new dimension in our days?
LC:  Since I started to work as an artist there were some fundamental changes in this field.  Material things are not eternal but impermanent.  That is the reality.  In my work, if the viewer is not open to the activity or the experience, the work does not exist.

In 1960 Clark herself writes: What is most funny is the following:  I don’t take so much pleasure in playing with the Bichos; my pleasure is that of watching others play with them.  The sad fact is, in most cases, the “others” did not cooperate very well.

For Clark it was of the utmost importance to make a contribution to humanity and to be helpful to her fellow humans.  Eventually she even abandoned her body events.  As Guy Brett noted:  After 1975, Lygia Clark moved into the private sphere of psychotherapy, where the context changed from one of play and experiment to one of healing.

Clark started creating her PlayArt with Bichos (Creatures) in 1960 at the age of forty.  Wikipedia informs us:  "Clark's later works were interactive pieces which made it difficult for museum curators to properly display them in their institutions.  Consequently, her works from the late 1960s onward have not been seen in art exhibitions."  There are a few exceptions, however, they are all under glass and cannot be touched.  Clark was, and still is, a victim of the inability of art museums to adapt to the progress in art.  The tenacious adherence to the principle of the invaluable, irreplaceable art object – as wrongheaded as it may be – turns out to be an invincible obstacle to progress.  Duchamp attempted to turn the distorted value structure up side down with his infamous Fountain, a lowly, worthless, mass-produced urinal.  It was an insurmountable blow to the financial interests in the art world, yet he did not succeed in changing the deplorable situation.  Neither did the conceptual artists.  Art museums are still on the leash of the money machine.

Ernst Lurker, 2009 

Comments

#1 Tenacious Adherence

The tenacious adherence to the principle of the invaluable, irreplaceable art object.
Óscar Tusquets said: "If not all museums have a Thinker by Rodin in their collection, it is the result of commercial strategy and not for technical or artistic reasons". So unless the original moulds are destroyed museums perhaps may not need to consider some more modern sculptures as irreplaceable.

David Howarth, U.K. 

#2 Destruction of Molds

Destroying molds of important works of art for purely financial reasons does indeed look reckless and callous towards the achievements of our culture. In fact it has ethical implications that are highly questionable. From the beginning, the PlayArt movement has cultivated strategies that oppose the financial domination and control of art. It has generally embraced mass production in order to make the works more available instead of a rarity. In 1969, when Lanier Graham started to work on a PlayArt exhibition at MoMA, he created a budget for repairs and substitutions. The Museum of PlayArt in Berlin developed the concept of selling play objects to other museums. No molds or jigs would have been destroyed. Thus speculative interests would have been kept at bay. This unrestricted approach towards the objects is intended to be maintained for all future PlayArt projects.

Ernst Lurker, US