Víctor Rodríguez El Salvador landings 8, 2008

not with a .38 caliber gun or diamonds
the art of landings

texto de Christian Nuñez                 traducción de Geardo Alejos

What do you think about the connection among educational institutions, young artists and museums-galleries in the art circuit? In the current system, without artists there would be no foundations, collections, museums, galleries, magazines or art schools that form the prime material for this circuit –even if they’re flawed material. It’s not the other way around. I think it’s fascinating that all of these components form a coalition, an alliance of interests, an entente cordiale, in order to continue to exist in this “velodrome” that is the art circuit. In our countries –the Caribbean and Central America, this strategy is a reproduction of a chain of activities inherited from old Europe, that do not have anything to do with out current needs.

landings is a sui generis project in Latin America. In these trying times, what was the key for executing in due time and proper course the ten planned exhibitions? You’re asking this question because of where we are, because we come from societies where non-compliance is a part of the culture that has been absorbed and assimilated through decades –so as not to say centuries– of impunity, of getting away with murder. I never thought about failing to comply. It’s not in my view of life or in my nature.

Only a few people know very well what you do as a curator. Explain what your work is. Curator, yes, of course, people use the term to define my work in these projects, but I don’t see myself as one. A few weeks ago, during the landings TEN book presentation in Mexico City, at the beginning of the lecture given by Yasser Musa, Alex Castilla, Benvenuto Chavajay and I, someone, I can’t remember who, started replacing the word “curator” –with a cynical, playful tone– with “landings’ Mick.” Someone asked “Mick? Mick who?” “Jagger,” said Yasser. There’s always a leader in each band, and even though the performances always start and end with a drum roll or a guitar riff, there’s a connecting thread diluted in the total sound.

ZERO (2000-02) and landings (2004-10) are the most well-known projects, although we have encompassed more. Curators are those who, with their servitude, keep the velodrome active, the museums and galleries full with exhibitions in order to fill their spaces, and in consequence they assume the responsibility for the ideas and concepts that are disseminated. My journey is different. During this decade, I have worked with young artists, initially from Belize and then from several other countries, with whom –for one or many reasons– there was a meeting of ideas. Many have entered the project, participated, learned and moved on. There’s no one to thank here. We don’t ask for gratitude or think less of those who came in just to see, to travel, to learn, to expand their CV and then left AWOL.

Both projects included almost 100 young creators from 15 countries, and we’ve traveled to the Caribbean, Central and North America, Europe and Asia, in order to understand and share art that reflects our view of life. My work is to foster excellence, to eradicate fear, to gain respect not with a .38 caliber gun or diamonds, but with the cleanness and coherence of our work, with the impressiveness –at least some times– and boldness of our ideas and pieces. We closed the landings project without external debt, and with all the miles I’ve flown to carry out the project, now I will be able to travel twice around the globe for free. With the landings books as my baggage, I will land anywhere where there’s interest to know more about these two projects –because, without the first one, the second one wouldn’t have occurred.

Both ZERO new belizean art and landings were pioneers in the way they instituted the guidelines for their exhibitions in a globalized world, not compromising their substance and appropriating new methods of inserting criticisms to the system. Is self-management the code for the rebels? We’re not rebels –with or without cause. James Dean did it too well for us to follow. Some times, the good brief things (the essential ones) are twice as good. Criticisms to the system? The system doesn’t need our reminders. It knows it, and the worshippers –as well as those that make it grow with their silence, their work-for-hire and their subservient lives– know it too. Self-management in itself is not a goal, at least for me. There’s no greater pleasure in life than a healthy conspiracy with a new friend, or even with the enemy. In landings, when we finally organize –in a couple of years– the staggering amount of information, experiences, data and post-mortem results, and begin to watch the seeds flourish –those that we planted by mistake, randomly or intentionally, then we’ll see that in the end we didn’t even reinvent a mini-wheel, but we simply resuscitated a concept that was barred by the nefarious capitalism. We all grew up and learned. And our mere existence, our breakthroughs and our survival are the beginning of a path in a territory no one had dared to cross.

You had said before that landings changed the rules of the game intentionally. Was it this way since the beginning? In every exhibition, we performed like a good cyclist of the Tour de France. We explored the route in advance, we checked the weather forecasts, we studied unforeseen events, decided what tires to use, where to speed up or hit the breaks, where the dangerous turns were. Even still, there’s always an uncertainty factor, the pleasure of competing, the unexpected, the extra strength your body pours out in the final sprint.

landings began one year before its opening in May 2004, when most of the artists of the first takeoff met in Conkal. We had the same sun, maybe less wind but more rain. The town and its history, the smell of the space, its humidity, helped us visualize how the landings “spirit” could transform the space, and us too. This has been done in all editions of landings. Take a look at how the three 1,500 m2 spaces each that we picked from the Taipei Fine Arts Museums were before we got in, and then look at how they were on opening day. The museum staff wouldn’t even recognize them. Coincidentally, today I went to say hi to the guys that work at the Centro de Artes Visuales in Merida, where we held L2. It was like walking in one of those streets in Havana where you see once-splendorous mansions now in ruins.

In Washington, we transformed the Art Museum of the Americas, with its gardens and all, into a residence à la landings; ironically, the place was once the official residence of the Secretary General of the OAS in the days of Galo Plaza, in the late 60’s-early 70’s. I visited the museum countless times, I took thousands of pictures and I sent them to the artists along with the blueprints of the two-story mansion, plus pictures of the landscape, that monolith nearby, the exact time in which Bush’s Marine One flew over in the afternoons, pictures of the White House, which is only blocks away… When we were preparing the Taiwan exhibit, I realized some of our artists, who were so brilliant in so many topics, were rather ignorant about the history and politics of Asia. Some of them didn’t even know Taiwan was outside of China, and if the name rang a bell it was only for the –erroneously called– Made in Taiwan knickknacks. Only then did they start doing research on Mao or Chiang Kai-shek. The Web helped a lot. Some of them even learned some Mandarin.

In Havana, for instance, we worked without any flexibility whatsoever –and this was the best part of the project for me. When in Rome, do as Romans do… and that’s what we did. But unlike the Roman Senate, only a handful of us made war-council decisions. Striking decisions. Why? It’s simple. We were preparing for years the exhibit to be held at –what was described to us as– the re-opening of the Centro de Arte Contemporáneo Wifredo Lam, but at the last minute, we were told that the space wouldn’t be ready due to construction delays –it happens even in the best families. So we negotiated, in two minutes, to have two exhibits instead of one with Casa de las Americas, and both of them were bold and speedy. Another day, another story, another book to write, I’m telling you this even though you were there and took part in both exhibits.

Where did you face the greatest obstacles to disseminate your message and why? Message? Damn, we’re not Jehovah’s Witnesses. During these years of public life, everything we presented was done 100% or 99% how we envisioned it. Another problem is that some landings editions were cancelled at the last minute due to decisions of the hosting institutions. Those we finally opened were presented as we had planned them, and if something changed it was due to the dynamics of the assembly.

A few days after our opening in Conkal, we found out the convent was locked one morning, and the INAH [Mexican History and Anthropology Institute] staff told us we couldn’t get in anymore. They claimed we had desecrated the premises. We finally had access to the site after dialoguing with the general director of INAH in Mexico City, solving in seconds a centuries-long gap between Medieval church views and the –fortunately helpful– attitude of the government from the capital.

In Washington, 2 days before the opening, they intended to take down several pieces that had to do with national symbols. We said no. No way. We questioned them: what about the Jasper Johns flags? Silence. The exhibition opened as we had planned and it remained open until the last scheduled day. Like the masters of retaliation that they are, the OAS and the IBD, with their unparalleled elegance, withdrew their economic support for us. And instead spent their money reprinting flyers and ads for L5 but without their mini logos, a few hours before the opening.

The artists of the project came in and out, but they were always induced to a strong process of self-criticism. After landing in several countries, what was left for them to do? Among the 100 individuals that have gone through the project –including writers, designers and translators, not two of them are alike. Not even the ones that are siblings or personal or artistic partners. There was no key character among them to be cloned and imitated for eternity. In landings, it wasn’t important if things were done spectacularly well, our legacy is a book collection –almost 1,500 full-color pages with thousands of images, many of which will last in the memory of those who’ve seen it and related to it. I’m interested in disasters, in rationalizing the obstacles on the roads, the cynical display of power of the establishment, and one day explaining with History-Channel solemnity how we were able to learn so much after losing our fear, after gaining faith in our ideas and conceptions of life, and how we gained respect, not in order to stay in 5-star hotels in this decaying galaxy called the international art circuit, but in order to share with thousands of people in 3 continents –60,000 people attended L8 alone– a new way not just to create art, but to present it and contextualize it. There was nothing left for landings to do. It did more than it was expected. The artists, however, have everything left to do in their post-landings life, and we will see if they can develop the landings spirit in their cities and countries, or if it will just stay as a juvenile tattoo.

With the release of the landings TEN book and its presentations in several countries, the cycle concludes. What revealing experiences did the execution of such a complex plan –in form and substance– leave? The journey through landings did not necessarily make every artist of the project to fine tune their lives, to improve their understanding of what it means to be an artist and how should we work. 21st century art is nothing like what Cézanne or Picasso understood as art and lived as artists. I think that, as privileged people that we are –given our sharp vision and the commitment to create and bring light to the shadows, we can’t be artists-members of the royal court, the Vatican of art, or to have Hollywood egos. To hell with the “I’m an artist” attitude that exempts us from learning so many important things in life. We need to find new systems to create, produce, share and provoke. We need to hit the nails in the head. We need to trash the thousands of archaic concepts that prevent us from seeing the future. I know what it’s like to be embarrassed at they way 20-something years old artists think about, write, develop or explain their work, acting like pre-WWII zombies. But a handful of landings artists –take my word for it– do believe that the spirit and the footprints that we left can be the beginning of a new way in which art can help people think better, to activate their minds in different ways. Decent societies –something unknown to most of us that live in the landings zone– must be formed by decent individuals, and it wouldn’t be so terrible if we as artists begin to give an example.