Top 10 Contemporary Political Artists: 6 The Chapmans Brothers

A call to auction! –

CAN’T PAY YOUR FEES? WE’LL PAY YOUR FINES!

"There is this strange rite of passage that people seem to go through after they have had their education, they go on to vilify and hate students, as though the young are to blame for entropy and hair loss".  (Jake Chapman, Evening Standard, March 2011) 

In March 2011 the Chapman Brothers launched Can't Pay Your Fees? We'll Pay Your Fines - a call to auction! to support prosecuted student protestors.  The same month they announced, in Dazed and Confused, more than 90 high profile signatories who have pledged to donate artwork or personal effects to the campaign. Here are just some of the signatories from page 1:

From the artworld:
Rachel Whiteread
Nigel Cooke
Gary Hume
Rebecca Warren
Ged Quinn
David Batchelor
(art dealer) Sadie Coles
(curator) Sir Norman Rosenthal
Jane Wilson
Liam Gillick
Francesca Gavin (Dazed and Confused)
Jenny Saville
Marc Quinn


and other celebrities:
Noel Fielding
Mick Jones (the Clash)
Stella McCartney

This is clearly a political act, and they are artists...but are they political artists?  That is, do they make art politically?  Is their artwork itself political? 

Tragic Anatomies (detail) 1996

If I were writing about them in another context I could focus on shock, or disgust as underlying features in their work.  Alternatively I could focus on their love of horror movies, perhaps avoiding the political all together.  But the Chapmans have always, and consistently, been political artists.

Zygotic acceleration, biogenetic, de-sublimated libidinal model (enlarged x 1000) 1995

Like many people, I had never heard of the Chapman brothers before 1997's Sensation exhibition.  Sensation was great because it was unapologetic, it went full throttle.  The Chapman's fitted into this context by providing perhaps the most sensational work (although Marcus Harvey's Myra has a good claim).  The Chapman's work raised questions about censorship due to its explicit nature.  But what did the Chapman's actually exhibit? We remember the sculptural installation of children with penises for noses and anuses for mouths, joined together by vaginas.  However, it's worth remembering that these sculptures were recognisable as mannequins - a symbol of consumerism - and they were all naked, except for Fila trainers (trainers being a recent symbol of consumer society as rioters and looters appeared to lack any political motive, failing to target capitalist institutions and just "going down footlocker").  Perhaps the Chapmans were not the ones fucking up our children, perhaps it was a comment on how society is fucking up its children.  Perhaps we allow the fetishisation of clothes and trainers to the detriment of society.  Of course, you can't ignore the explicit nature of the sculptures, and herein lies the appeal to tabloid outrage - paedophilic undertones (one thinks of the Brass Eye special "Paedogeddon" - 2001).  This too is political, referencing the sexualisation of youth.  It is also a comment on the media and its fetishisation of paedophiles (in the same way that Marcus Harvey's Myra is a comment on the media's use of the Myra mug shot).  Perhaps one reason why you don't immediately associate the Chapman mannequin sculptures as political is their lack of political answers.  The Chapmans are brazenly nihilistic.  They talk about how art is usually thought of as being redeeming, or essentially having something "good" about it. But they challenge this and ask, what if it doesn't? What if their art is just bad? What if it doesn't have any transgressive quality? In the same way... the best horror movies are like this.  They are scary because they don't explain, don't give a reason why and in doing so they deny us control over the situation.

Great deeds against the dead (1994)

    I was excited by Sensation.  It seemed like new art, for my generation.  Since then I've been surprised by the level of criticism leveled at some YBAs.  Obviously if you want to be taken seriously in the artworld you need to slam Hirst and Emin (that seems to be a given) but where do the Chapmans fit in? They seem to be one rung up the ladder of acceptability (but only one rung).  Perhaps they are easy to dismiss as enfants terribles, and that's the case with their defacement of Goya Prints.  The Chapmans talk about the futility of their action here, as by defacing the artworks they actually increased their value.  This is, of course not new.  Piero Manzoni famously canned his own shit, which then accrued a value greater than its weight in gold.  The Chapmans are at least self-aware in doing this.  They talk about YBAs cynically, reminding us that the celebrity almost came before the work, and that anything made or belonging to the artist became valuable and collectable - just like a drawing by, say, Elvis would be valuable (whether or not it's any good).  Gavin Turk's signature is another self-aware example building on the Manzoni precedent (one also thinks of Warhol, Klein, Duchamp... the list goes on).  The act of defacing (a Goya print, or anything else) is inherently political.  The fact that the Chapmans chose Goya's Disasters of War etchings is surely not entirely coincidental.  We know they have been using them as source material long before they started defacing them (see Great deeds against the dead).  Goya's print series was an extremely graphic and political protest against the Napoleonic atrocities committed in Spain (not entirely sure why he moved to Bordeaux to see out his last years, but we'll let that go).  So we have a body of work that is a protest (Goya) which is defaced by the Chapmans, which is a form of resistance - I think.  I think of it in the same vein as graffiti.  Sure, some graffiti can be considered, and political, but most is not politically articulate.  This doesn't mean it's not political though.  The same can be said of the August rioters, much maligned for not banding together for political reasons but just "going down Footlocker and "tieving" shoes".  The youths in questions (only 1 in 4 arrested were under 20 years old by the way, and rioters came from all walks of life including unemployed, employed, students, teachers, postmen...) were quickly branded as "criminals, pure and simple".  The riots were seen by the right as opportunist.  I'm not so sure.  Just like graffiti, the riots were criminal (by definition) and they were not politically articulate, but they were a form of protest and resistance.  People were exploding in frustration and saying "enough".  Of course, it's sad that when law and order breaks down and people feel that can do what they want and get away with it, all they want to do is gather consumer goods - but that's symptomatic of a society where politicians make fake claims for second homes and plasma screen TVs, where the police sell details of dead children to the press and are complicit in phone hacking, where the press have no idea of when they cross the line, where the gutter press feed us celebrity rubbish and we lap it up.  Since before Thatcher we've ushered in a particularly ferocious form of Capitalism called Neo-Liberalism where everything becomes about profit and everything is opened up to the market (national industries first, education more recently, and the NHS to follow).  The Chapmans have criticised Tracey Emin, who Ed Vaizey has described as a Conservative supporter, for accepting a commission by Downing Street.  Emin was also quoted (in the Sunday Times) criticising the 50% tax rate and considering leaving the country to go to France, where she has a holiday home.  (You can read Emin's defense of those comments here and make up your own mind). 
The Chapmans feel that too many of the YBAs aren't doing enough to oppose student tuition fees (Telegraph) but isn't this a bit hypocritical coming from artists whose career springboarded off the endorsement of Charles Saatchi - using money, in no small part made from Tory party advertising campaigns run by Saatchi and Saatchi in the 80s?  OK, forget where the money came from, what about what Saatchi helped create? Are the Chapmans complicit with this?  How about being represented by Jay Jopling - son of a Tory Baron?  Does that not conflict with any political credentials?  Can you be truly political and be in the pockets of such people, and make your money selling through the market? Maybe.  I'm not against artists making money, especially if they are prepared to use it for political means (as in paying protestors' fines - although the Chapmans are hoping not to pay the fines directly from their own pockets but from the proceeds of an auction).

I went to the Frieze Art Fair last Sunday.  I hated it.  Hundreds of people are herded into a tent and shuffle around endless art, which you can't even look at because someone's either in the way or barges you out of the way in order to take a photograph.  I only saw one or two pieces that I liked in the whole show but I couldn't even enjoy them because of Art Fair Fatigue.  Knackered, the poor public, who have already been fleeced for the best part of £30 just to get in, head to one of the corporate style cafes to be fleeced even more.  Be in no doubt, it's the art students and wannabe artists who keep this going.  Their footfall means the fair can cover its costs regardless of any sales.  In 2007 the Chapman brothers exhibited at Frieze.  They made a protest against the money making market machine by defacing £10 and £20 banknotes, which they subsequently sold for... well, more than £10 and £20.  The point is this, a drawing can be worth whatever the market is willing to pay - it's irrelevant how much the paper it's drawn on costs.  No one really thinks that a drawing is worth more or less if it's drawn on Fabriano paper or on cheap, found paper.  However, when you draw on a banknote you are confronted with its material value (it's written on the note in case you forget).  This means you are unable to avoid the history of Piero Manzoni, Gavin Turk etc.  The Chapmans' drawings are made quickly enough to be read as a signature.  Of course, defacing the Queen's image is a crime and therefore the act of doing so is political.  Defacing currency is political.  The debate around value also becomes political.  The Chapmans have one more political layer to this project though - a copyright issue.  A graffiti artist, D*Face, has made remarkably similar images on banknotes since 2003 (see image above).  The Chapmans claim to have never seen his work or heard of him and that defacing currency is as old as graffiti, which is as old as Lascaux cave paintings, so no one can lay claim to it.  They claim that it's not original, and that's what interests them... it has no authorship.  You can read a relatively neutral account in the Independent.  D*Face claims that the Chapmans' claim to not know who his is is laughable.  He says that he created a billboard sized version at the bottom of their road, read more here.   The Chapmans' response is typically nihilistic.  It reminds me of their frank explanation of the effectiveness of the Cant' Pay Your Fees? We'll Pay Your Fines project where they admit that they can't erase criminal records so having your fines paid is only the tip of the iceberg and that the protestors will inevitably face financial penalties over their careers as a result of the stigma.  If their position on market forces is ambiguous so is their position on originality.  But their position on tuition fees is very clear.  They may feel that they can't change government policy, they may not have an alternate solution, but they definitely oppose tuition fees.  This article in the Evening Standard sums them up pretty well, "Jake and Dinos Chapman have carved a niche for provocative ambiguity...the brothers have delighted in prompting awkward moral dilemmas for the viewer, and provoked endless speculation about their own views on society".  No one likes being lectured, so an ambiguous position is always intriguing.  It allows us to question our position as we question theirs.  Hence, regardless of any hypocrisy, I think their work functions well as contemporary political art.  It confronts us and challenges us and in doing so allows us to consider our position and what we might want changed in our ideal world.

If Hitler had been a Hippy How Happy Would We Be?

Adolf Hitler famously attended an exhibition of modern art called Entartete Kunst (degenerate art).  Some high ranking Nazis bought some of the works.  The most valuable were sold at auction in Switzerland.  Over 4000 artworks, by the likes of Max Ernst, Paul Klee and even Picasso, were burnt.  Hitler did not like modern art, and he did not see the term degenerate in a positive light.  The Chapmans bought 13 Hitler watercolours and defaced them with images from hippy culture.  In 2008 they re-introduced them to the art market with a valuation six times higher than the price they paid for them (Independent).  The idea of defacing Hitler's work with such a "degenerate" style by such degenerate artists is poetic.  The fact that they profited off Hitler is brilliant. 

"Dinos Chapman said the work, entitled If Hitler had been a Hippy How Happy Would We Be, was a rumination of what might have been had Hitler not been refused entry to Vienna's art school. He added they showed a "blankness" rather than any hint of the deadly pathology that he would later demonstrate". (Independent)

 Of course, Nazis feature heavily in the Chapmans' work.  In works such as Hell the Chapmans showed us apocalyptic and dystopic visions of a world not too far away from ours, referencing Auschwitz and McDonalds.  Part of their vision of dystopia is the power of capital (as seen through their defacing of banknotes or opposition to tuition fees).  Part of the dystopic nature of the power of capital is corporate and consumer greed (as referenced through mannequins and trainers).  The Chapmans don't aim, or claim, to give us any solutions to our contemporary malaise, and they don't.  But they do confront us with the causes in confusing and ambiguous ways, in the same way that punk replaced political action with a defiant nihilism and transformed apathy and pessimism into a weapon of resistance. 

Top 10 Contemporary Political Artists: 7 Charlie Woolley

I heard Charlie Woolley, who shows at David Risley, speak at the Saatchi Gallery on Tuesday night and immediately knew I had to include him in my Top 10. 

Woolley is an interdisciplinary artist who often works in collaboration with other artists, and other organisations.  His last such venture was We Have our own Concept of Time and Motion with Federico Campagna (who had previously organised the excellent conference Radical Publishing: What are we Struggling for? at the ICA), Huw Lemmey, and Michael Oswell at Auto Italia South East last August.  It featured a temporary bookshop run by the new cooperative organisation Book Bloc.  Woolley made the furniture for the temporary bookshop... from the (no longer needed) wood from local shops boarded up during the August Riots.  The full title of the exhibition, We have our own concept of Time and Motion: a four day event devoted to the idea and practice of self-organisation, gives us a good idea of what happened.  Woolley was very clear, at the Saatchi Gallery, that the making of art (any art) is a political act.  But his use of materials, the fact that he got them for free and in order to help out another local group further politicises the work.  The space became became a base for the production of new work and new ideas.  Workshops were held by the gallery, Book Block and by the Deterritorial Support Group (a self professed ultra-leftist propaganda machine).  The line up of speakers for the workshops was impressive, here's some examples Mark Fisher, Nina Power, Franco "Bifo" Berardi. 

 Woolley himself has stated aims of radical and autonomous politics and aesthetics and is interested in how artists engage with radical politics - what better arena?  He spoke of a crisis of aesthetics in politics - a refreshing change from the constant news of political crises: "there is a crisis within certain forms of aesthetics, and political propaganda is one problem and it's taking place on the internet" (artists' talk at the Saatchi Gallery 3/10/2011 - "Francesca Gavin - 100 New Artists).  Woolley never saw himself as an internet artist until asked about internet art for a project.  It was his wife who reminded him that he uses Google image searches to generate some of his work (digital and traditional collages), broadcasts his radio show, from gallery spaces, on the internet etc.  In this way we can re-consider what internet art is.  As Woolley said, what we think of as internet art has already happened and something new is already happening.  One hour of YouTube footage is uploaded every second - we're already, always so far behind!  Artists like Woolley are of the last generation to remember a pre-internet work.  Lilah Fowler - who also spoke at the event - agreed saying that art is now generally seen online (or on screen), not in the flesh. Students bring images of their artwork into college, lecturers view the work on students' laptops, people don't have time to visit the gallery so they look on the gallery's. 

Woolley's series of digital photographs of TV screens The Flicker Effect are also political.  When blown up, the images of black and white films and TV shows reveal that they are anything but black and white.  The television set, from which the photographs are taken, broadcasts in RGB and a rainbow of colours appears in the photographic image.  This serves to remind us of subliminal messages and that we don't always know what we see on TV, but also it allows us to reflect on how often images are re-translated from one medium to another, from one context to another - and what affect this has on meaning.  Of course, once these photographs are documented, appearing online or printed in catalogues, they are reduced back down in size and become black and white again ruining the effect, or further reinforcing the message (you decide). 

The notion of the artist as collaborator and activist came up at times during the talk.  Apart from the example above, Woolley spoke of how he makes flags, in the tradition of the political banner, using family members.  His mum is "really good at sewing" and another family member is a weaver - so he makes the flags with them.  Woolley thinks it's only right to use skilled labourers, and t credit them for their work.  Woolley spoke about artists' squats on more than one occasion - once with reference to the crisis of tired aesthetics in Belgravia flats: bedsheets hanging from the windows emblazoned with the word "occupied" (how does this engage the Belgravia community?)  When an audience member asked a question about Art Schools Woolley again demonstrated his activist credentials arguing against Francesca Gavin's claim that "some people look at your work more seriously if you've got an MA from the Slade, the RCA or Goldsmiths" by asserting that the big name schools don't produce anything special, except for the peer group.  Woolley told us that he thought the most important course he had studied was his Foundation, (a sentiment with which I agree - the Foundation is the most important course for an artist) followed by his BA, then MA then PhD.  For me the MA came next in importance.  Of course, you can't (or shouldn't) do an MA without first studying for a BA, and my BA was good, but I never progressed at the same rate that I did on the one year intensive courses that are the Foundation and MA.  The Masters was also a chance to reflect on my experiences as an undergraduate: returning to education after several years working as an artist was an extremely rewarding experience and the peer group, of mostly BA Fine Art graduates made for interesting debate and shared learning.  The single most important part of my education though did not occur at University, but through travel.  I think travel is political.  Travel to Europe or the US and you are confronted with people, in many ways very similar to us in Britain, but with different philosophies about how to live their lives - different political opinions.  Travel outside of North America and Europe, beyond the white western world and you will find the space for political reflection and space for political alternatives to arise.  Woolley did not speak of travel and this is not a major factor in his work.  Collaboration is, but could this be stronger if he were to collaborate with people beyond his immediate surroundings, both geographical and in terms of the art word?  I have a feeling that travel will reoccur in my Top 10.  Woolley ended by reminding us that you could get a good art education, if you're savvy, just by attending free events in London. Working together we can overcome capital.  The internet helps us make art and distribute art without the need for (much) capital.  Helping friends, setting up your own parties, visiting each others' houses (instead of buying into the commercialisation of leisure) doing things not for financial gain - these are ways to overcome capital and, in my Top 10, I will endeavour to find artists who do this. 

Top 10 Contemporary Political Artists: 8 Jeremy Deller

Bats - Still from Memory Bucket 2003

So far in my Top Ten Contemporary Political Artists (which should really be called 10 Contemporary Political Artists as it is non-hierarchical), I've covered a political painter in Wilhelm Sasnal and an installation artist in Thomas Hirschhorn.  Jeremy Deller is essentially a performance artist, who makes videos to document the acts.  He was nominated for the Turner Prize in 2004, an extremely political year for the Turner Prize, which was won by Langlands and Bell who made work about Afghanistan.  I remember seeing them in the Tate and was surprised that they were documenting their work themselves!  One of their main pieces, Zardad's Dog, was withdrawn as it was considered that it might be in contempt of court - a trial involving Zardad was going on in London at the time (you can't get more relevant than that - look out for Langlands and Bell in future posts!). Yinka Shonibare was also shortlisted and his work deals explicitly with post colonialism.  The 2004 Turner Prize was seated very much in the wake of 9-11 but Deller's work looked farther back.  His main piece "Memory Bucket" is a collection of interviews of residents from Waco and Crawford Texas.  Deller was doing a residency in Texas at the time.  Waco embodies an overaggressive state.  The BATF (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms) believed that the Branch Davidians were molesting children, stock piling arms and running a drug factory.  They stormed the complex using machine guns and attack helicopters.  The Branch Davidians responded with an act of collective suicide - burning themselves to death.  The BATF then bulldozed the whole site - even though it was a crime scene.  They later, in court, produced a rifle "from the scene" which was brand new, wooded butt still intact with no sign of fire damage. Deller's work is often about history and how we remember history.  He reminds us that history is written by the winners, and when the winners are the State, they have total control over how and what we remember.  Almost total: Deller interviews a survivor of the fire who has constructed a visitor centre on the site of the massacre.  He believes that he needs to tell everybody about the event, and then the second coming will occur.  Memory Bucket ends with an apocalyptic scene of thousands of bats flying out of a cave, a dark cloud that hangs over America's pro-Bush enthusiasm. 

The exhibition Life/Live continues with the theme of historical collective memory.  Deller curated  Life/Live in 1996/7, it featured portraits of the infamous including the drug dealer associated with Leah Betts' death and a stalker of Princess Diana.  This reminds us of how (seemingly) important events are quickly forgotten or fade to the backs of our minds.  Everything's an emergency on 24-hour news channels (it has to be to grab our attention), but because it's 24-hour it needs to be constantly updated and superseded by the next emergency or catastrophe. 


Deller's work is often about civic pride (and snobbishness), parades, and re-enactments. 
In another piece shown at the Turner Prize he draws out connections between
Brass Bands and Acid House music: Colliery bands, Thatcher crushing both warehouse raves (the criminal justice bill) and miners, brass instruments looking like apparatus from the industrial revolution and Acid House being digital music (part of the next revolution - the digital revolution), both forms of music being popular in the North of England and back to Civic Pride.  The project culminated in a series of concerts where northern Brass Bands play Acid House music. 

Battle of Orgreave 2001

Perhaps Deller's most famous work is The Battle of Orgreave (Commissioned by Art Angel 2001).  In this work Deller brings together the conservative (small "c" and capital "C") English Historical Re-enactment Society and ex-miners (an interesting mix) to recreate the pivotal battle between the Miners and Thatcher.  This is genious, just by doing the re-enactment he has brought together two very different parts of society - in a non-judgmental way.  Imagine the conversations, imagine the legacy left through the conversations they will continue to have with others about "when they re-enacted the battle of Orgreave".  If the artwork never even made it to film it would live on, in memory.  This, I suspect, is the point.  These two sets of "actors" were brought together with general volunteers and former Police officers were advising on the military style tactics used.  Deller states quite clearly that this was a public event first and a video, as documentation, second.  One of the most moving parts is when a policeman emotionally recalls that he first joined the force because he "wanted to do something for the community" and "thanks to Margaret Thatcher, I did: I helped to destroy it".  The copper is nearly reduced to tears as he now believes that he was used.  I'm sure there are many policemen who are unrepentant: he was local but many officers were brought in from London and the South, this was North vs South, a class war, a sequel to the English Civil War that the Historical Re-enactment Society are more used to re-enacting.  Orgreave, just like Waco is an example of an overaggressive state.  "The first casualty of war is the truth" Tony Ben tells us (in Deller's film) as he recalls a retired policeman assaulting Arthur Scargill at a rally (it was later reported in the press that Scargill was assaulted by a disenchanted miner).  Deller clearly questions our collective memory and that of the truth.  His memorial to Brian Epstein highlights how an important Briton can be forgotten and "not memorialised".  Orgreave Memory Bucket are events in the wake of 9-11, and how we should question what we are told.  Memory Bucket shows us examples of American civic pride and this contrasts with Deller's depictions of England where pride has been lost and how we now ridicule remnants of a past age - like the Brass Band or three ducks on the chimney breast.  But Deller isn't romanticising a proud past, Memory Bucket draws our attention to the dangers of such pride - where people without passports who know nothing about, and care little for, the outside world can be incredibly proud patriots - celebrating their towns status as being number one for something meaningless - like number turnip producer in the US (not a real example of Deller's film). 

Deller's work is about people, societies and history - and that is political. 

Top 10 Contemporary Political Artists: 10, Wilhelm Sasnal

Is Wilhelm Sasnal a Political artist?  I've always assumes that he is. His recent show at Sadie Coles HQ didn't appear as political as some of his previous works though.  There were statues evoking Socialist Realist sculptures (Untitled, left) but the press release tells us that the work has more to do with motherhood.  Here's how Hauser & Wirth describe his earlier work:

Throughout his work Wilhelm Sasnal combines references to political events, to art and cultural history with snippets of personal experience and everyday life. The breadth of his interests, once transferred into his work, eschews any sense of hierarchy.

He references political events.  But then again, he references other things.  Is Sasnal political, or is he referencing the world he lives in, the world he has grown up in?  I can't remember when I first became aware of Sasnal's work, but I definitely saw him in the Hayward Gallery's 2007 show The Painting of Modern Life.  This would further suggest that Sasnal can be seen as someone who just paints "Modern Life", his modern life.  In the exhibition catalogue Sasnal talks about painting photographs:

"I tried to make the process of transferring a photographic image onto canvas as emotionless and mechanical as possible...the reworking of a motif provides an arena for interpretation and this is what interests me most....When it comes to choosing the source image, there really are no strict rules...in most cases the image finds me...". 

So, there we have it.  Sasnal is not political.  He chooses images randomly from books, while browsing the internet, or from film stills. It just so happens that he grew up in a communist country and therefore many of the images he finds from his childhood are seen in a political light by us in the West.  He surely is from a generation bewildered by the transition from a dearth of imagery during the Communist era to an influx of advertising imagery post Berlin Wall and the proliferation of internet based images.  This did happen quickly and merits some consideration.  But isn't the mere selection of images to paint political?  He may not be telling us his opinion on the political events he chooses to depict but by raising them to our attention is surely to give them importance.  His selection of images in some way memorialises them - sometimes taking a throw away image that might have been forgotten and imortalising it by rendering it as oil on canvas.  But his reasons for selecting the image are just as likely to be compositional as political.  Sasnal's work is about interpretation of images and the reductive process that occurs when painting a photograph.  Now, of course, interpretation is political.  Perhaps we need to find out what Sasnal has left out in order to discern his political stance.  Or perhaps not.  Perhaps this is the real potential for Sasnal's work to address the need outlined in my last post, that of imagining alternative possibilities.  Perhaps by not taking a stance, or not knowing the stance of an interpreted and altered image does "provide an arena for interpretation" as Sasnal purports to do.   His painterly grammar of drips and swirls allows us to enter into the image in a dreamlike fashion and in doing so allows us to imagine an alternate world.  Sasnal's paintings are spaces full of potential.  The source material is disparate and random.  Sasnal tells us that the work is about interpretation and the reductive process of painting photographic images - and we see this in many works where the paint swirls and drips take over the source image.  But there's just one thing bugging me: ultimately they are political though, aren't they?

Top 10 Contemporary Political Artists

The phrase "it is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of Capitalism" has been attributed to both Zizek and Jameson.  It seems prophetic in the wake of the bank bail-outs: it seems impossible to even imagine the banking system (which has bankrupted not only our country but many countries) failing, we are ready to pay any price so that this broken system carries on.  And even though we own the banks, we have no power to influence them as they announce that they will continue with their unlimited bonuses.  It is indeed easier to imagine the end of the world: think of the recent apocalyptic scenes on London, ransacked and on fire.  We can't turn to politicians for guidance, there is tri-party commitment to the same forms of Capitalism.  So, how can we imagine alternatives?  This is where Art can play a unique and crucial role.  Philosophers or economists have to come up with an alternative before they can communicate what it might be.  Only the Artist has the power to forge a space where we can imagine new possibilities.  It doesn't need to be didactic either:

Even artistic experimentation and creation that is not explicitly political can do important political work, sometimes revealing the limits of our imagination and at other times fuelling it".
(Michael Hart & Antonio Negri 2009).

This got me thinking.  What Artists are there out there who are capable of fitting this brief?  I turned to Google for an instant answer but "Top 10 Political Artists" only returned results containing the likes of Picasso's Guernica. This is the best site here.  It cites the deaths of Socrates, Caesar and even JFK.  There's some Poussin, Delacroix, David and other historical paintings in there too.  Not very helpful though, we can't turn to dead Artists for answers... or can we?   History can teach us many things but these paintings tend to illustrate a point rather than provide space for new possibilities.  For example, Guernica was very much a shock and reveal campaign telling us what has already happened, it was specifically linked to the atrocities that occurred in Guernica in 1937.  Likewise Delacroix's "Liberty Leading the People" is political but in more of a reportage kind of way.  It tells a story, it glorifies the French Revolution, it commemorates the event.  I suppose we could get involved in a debate about the use of historical painting today but I'm more interested in what artists exist now who could help us understand our world and imagine new possibilities.  What would this work look like?  So I Googled "Top 10 contemporary political Artists" - nothing.  Then "Top 10 political contemporary artists" - nothing.  Given the sense of urgency for us to understand a rapidly changing world, a world aethetised through the mass media too (we're talking about interpreting the image of, say, 9-11 as much as the act for example)...this struck me as strange.  In contemporary art circles the political (especially the overtly political) isn't all that... "fashionable" I guess.  

It was at this time that I went to see the Wilhelm Sasnal exhibition at Sadie Coles HQ.   Now, here's an artist who deals directly with political imagery (in a historic, communist context) but also with the added bonus of the cultural context of growing up in Poland as the Berlin Wall fell, and advertising flooded in, then the internet happened and in one person's lifetime the proliferation of the image changed so much.  Although this exhibition isn't particularly strong in this sense I couldn't help but compile my "Top 10 Contemporary Political Artists" in my head.  So, over the next few weeks I'm going to post descriptions of such Artists, in no particular order, starting with Sasnal.