01 / art & politics: a universal debate and its south african context
The relationship between art and politics has always been an issue of contention, and often appears as being highly problematic-or at least it is easily problematised - and the context of South African Modernist and Post-modern art history is no exception.
Many prominent South African Modernist and contemporary artists, such as William Kentridge, Walter Batiss, Irma Stern, and Gerard Sekoto, have sought to express the political and the aesthetic in the same visual breath, and thus created many strong, iconic and relevant works of art for which they are famous. But the question is still begged as to what extent does politics or a political agenda have the right to impose itself upon art; in other words, at what point does a work of art become a work of propaganda, and how do we draw a clear line between the two? Is such an endeavour even possible, or are those boundaries so completely blurred that a distinction between, say, a work of art with an explicit political or philosophical and ideological message and an aesthetically pleasing political banner, amount to the pot calling the kettle black?
At the heart of the question of art and politics lies the more fundamental question of the definition of art. If art cannot be defined as a finite, absolute concept, like politics is, for example, then, ostensibly, the contention is a simple one to solve. But, seeing as the debate of art and politics, and indeed the debate on the definition of art, has been in existence for as long as both the political and artistic practices, the issue requires deeper investigation. For example, the past century of South African history is incredibly fraught with politics, the apartheid and post-apartheid eras alone, with their issues of race, class, gender, human rights, democracy, social ideologies, protest marches, resistance struggles and inter-party politics being at the forefront not only of the dominant themes of the art of the time, but encompassing South African life and thought in general. This remains as true today as it was in 1968 when Julian Motau drew his prolific and heart-wrenching ‘Mother Africa’ [1968: Charcoal on Paper: property of the Warren Siebrits collection] (1). The most recent example being the cover of the June 2009 issue of Art South Africa (volume 7.4), which features a photographic portrait of the face and torso of artist Brett Murray appearing in what ASA describes as ‘black face’ - i.e., his face, neck, and shoulders painted in brown. Furthermore, the artist is donning a traditional judge's wig- an explicit contextually embedded codifier referencing themes of politics, the judicial system and justice in society. (2)
Although these two examples of politically-themed art I have presented are, in my opinion, clearly examples of art as opposed to visual propaganda- and by this I mean they are individualized expressions of ideas and opinions aesthetically concretized in a visual medium by the artists- there still is requirement for clarification of what makes these works categorically distinct from, say, the highly artistic rendition of the countenance of US president Barrak Obama as part of the promotional program of his electoral campaign, depicted in a painterly fashion reminiscent of the Fauvist style of Matisse, and underscored by large and boldly-printed slogans reading ‘HOPE’, ‘CHANGE’, and ‘PROGRESS’. (3) These posters, created by American artist Shepard Fairey, have become icon in today's mainstream media culture since what is widely considered the historic and ground-breaking victory of the US's Democratic Party representative, and today comprise part of the U.S. National Portrait Gallery's permanent collection [cyanatrendland.com/].
Hope - 2009 © www.cyantrend.com
In my opinion, these works present an example of something which tends more towards propaganda than to Fine Art, because, although many aspects of these posters present representations of certain kinds of emotional expressions and concepts, the crux of the works meaning, the primary intention of what is to be read and interpreted from it, is not an individual expression of opinion, feeling, thought, or even ideology on the part of the artist, but simply: Vote for Obama. It is not a visual concretisation of the artist's idea about the world and his place in it. It is merely a promotional advertisement in the service of politics. Its primary purpose, meaning and value in this context is not as an artwork itself, but rather its effectiveness as a political tool. And it is precisely in such situations when art is exploited by politics that both the politicians and the artists involved open themselves to sharp critique. Conclusively, this article argues, not for art to be politically or ideologically uninterested, but rather, that art retains its sovereign dignity as an entity which is distinct from the propagandist agendas of politics.
