Art as ethical reflection
Art in a place like the former concentration camp at Falstad is a risky business. Unless the art understands its context, it can appear alien. It can be seen as a disrespectful intervention in a sensitive setting, almost like a fresh offence, or like an aestheticising of something evil. Although in many settings it is art’s prerogative to provide an alternative perspective – a critical gaze from the outside – there are places and circumstances where caution, respect and understanding are vital prerequisites for its introduction. Falstad is one such place.
This means that ethical reflection about the role of art is a necessity here, since the justification for art in such a place is primarily ethical rather than aesthetic. The significance of Falstad as a place entails a number of fundamental ethical problems, of both historical and contemporary relevance, and in particular the meaning of evil as a phenomenon. As far as art is concerned, the central issue, in both ethical and aesthetic terms, is the complex one of how that phenomenon should be represented or depicted. Many people are familiar with the philosopher Theodor W. Adorno’s remark that “it is barbaric to write poetry after Auschwitz”. The question of historical memory in general is also tangible at Falstad, as we see, for example, in the ever-topical debate about what is often described as the “crisis” of the historical monument.
When the foundation that runs the Falstad Centre contacted KORO about the possibility of an art project, 178 | 179 it was considerations like the above that made us want to participate, even before any clear plans were on the table. Our art consultant at the time, Søren Ubisch, prepared a so-called pre-project analysis that explored Falstad as a historical site. Concerning the question of the role and purpose of art at Falstad, Ubisch wrote, among other things: “In its intensity and concentration the metaphor of the courtyard can be equated with a work of art. For those who visit the courtyard, the emotional experience is similar to that of the very best art. They leave with an unforgettable impression.”
Rather than provide the centre with art in the form of physical objects, it was pointed out that art could serve instead to clarify Falstad’s significance as a symbol. Art should explore and discuss the centre’s purpose as a field of ever-developing knowledge. Art should reflect this dynamic by being temporary and variable.
The workshop at Falstad in autumn 2007, in which various professionals took part, was a good start to the project and set the agenda for further thinking. The exhibition last summer, with installations by Norwegian artists Siri Austeen and Roddy Bell, was the ultimate result of a national competition. It demonstrated the full potential of art to expose the misdeeds of wars both past and present. The exhibition was followed up in September 2009 by the seminar “History, art and the contemporary world”, in which the artworks were presented, discussed and set in a broader theoretical context.
The installation The Long Silence by Roddy Bell was presented in a container in the courtyard. The work was based on stories told by inmates at Falstad who suffered various arbitrary punishments at the hands of their German captors. Historical portrait photos were lit by oil lamps around the walls and set quivering by means of a ventilator fan. In this, as in so many of his earlier works, Roddy Bell combined high technology with simple, handcrafted objects. The video of a mouth singing Franz Lehar’s “Volgalied” was projected onto the fan and the wall. When the song was over, the fan stopped and everything fell silent.
Siri Austeen’s Ears of the Field was a sound installation that looked more like an encampment due to the tent at its centre. At various points around the room, loudspeakers supported on vertical posts covered in leaves and greenery filled the space with birdsong. The recordings were made in places where people are currently living in situations of conflict – Afghanistan, Chechnya, Israel / Palestine. At a number of listening stations, one could put on headphones and listen to reflections and conversations about the issues of war. Inside the tent, visitors could contribute to the artwork by offering observations about their visit to the centre.
It is no exaggeration to say that the art projects at Falstad represent something unusual in KORO’s work, partly because of their links to the place and its history, and partly because they were temporary. But perhaps especially because the strategies employed gave history contemporary relevance and stimulated deeper reflection, both about Falstad and about the role of art in such a place.
Dag Wiersholm
This article is adapted from a column in Trønderavisa 23.06.2010.