Tracey Emin Why I Never Became a Dancer, 1995
Youth. In a lot of creative fields, it’s rewarded. In visual arts…well…not so much. It’s a field in the arts that celebrates life experience and could even be said to festishize, to one degree or another, a fair bit of suffering — and let’s face it, most have to be well past the 20-somethings to begin to compete against those standards, leaving teenage angst to rock and roll. Sometimes teenage angst does break out of music’s territory and into the gallery, though, and Why I Never Became A Dancer at Munich’s Haus der Kunst presents 15 videos by international artists to prove it.
The name Private Collection alone conjures up all sorts of ideas of privileged and intimate access to things that, on any normal day, we might not even know exist. It’s not just the private part, but also the idea of collection; whatever group of things we encounter was brought together by someone, and being privy to that selection will undoubtedly shine a light of reflection onto the collector. In the case of this exhibition at Vienna’s Krobath Gallery by Czech artist Dominik Lang, son of artist Jiří Lang, the insight and access we’re given does reflect the creator; these reflections, however, also create the work.
Vortex (Bringing It All Back Home), 2011
Jim Lambie’s fifth solo exhibition at Anton Kern Gallery in New York has been conceived as “one living organism” that inhabits the gallery space and, as is usual in his work, the artist conceived the exhibition especially for it.
Unless you’re using it as in the very inclusionary context of “my brother from another mother”, most of the time signaling someone out as coming from somewhere else than where you come from becomes, to some degree or another, a confrontational act. Let’s face it, people like to belong, and so much so that even if it’s an idea that isn’t working out all of the time, most also like to believe in the growing global community. The current cultural currency of that ideal of global community is never more evident than in recent telecommunications ads, and if you take their message at face value, buying that new phone or switching provider isn’t just going to put you in touch with people in every corner of the globe, that virtual net is the very fabric of a new and better world. Certainly owning these products won’t do anything to further the cause unless you actually use them to communicate with people in every corner of the globe, and not many will, but there’s still one question left hanging unanswered: is there any sincerity to it, or is all the “brother from another mother”-style inclusionary rhetoric just covering up the truly exclusionary nature of our times?

They used to say that behind every great man, is a great woman. Although certainly a valid statement in regards to Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, I’d like to extend that line of thinking out of any feminist debate, because particularly when Kahlo’s name is attached, it’s a road so-traveled that we needn’t go down it again. Instead, let’s focus on what lies at that center of that thought, which while certainly being gender-neutral, is by no means neutral in the success of any artist: support. You can certainly make comment about the support system that Rivera and Kahlo had between themselves as a couple and as artists, but without dwelling on that any longer, it simply brings us to another reinterpretation of what stands behind every great artist, and that’s a great story. So, check and double check for Rivera and Kahlo.