The Geopolitics of Pimping
by Suely Rolnik
Powerful winds of critique have begun shaking the territory of
art again since the mid-1990s. With different strategies, from
the most activist to the most strikingly aesthetic, this movement
in the air of the times finds one of its origins in an unease
with the politics that govern the processes of subjectivation,
and especially the place of the other and the destiny of the power
of creation: a politics characteristic of the finance capitalism
that established itself across the planet from the mid-1970s onward.
It is curious to notice that in Brazil this movement only began
to take shape at the turn of the century, among elements of the
new generation of artists who were beginning to express themselves
publicly, frequently organized as “collectives.” Still
more recent is the participation of this local movement in the
discussion that has long been maintained outside the country.
Today, this type of theme has even begun to enter the Brazilian
institutional scene, in the wake of what has been happening outside
the country for some time, where artistic practices involving
these questions have been transformed into a “trend”
within the official circuit – a phenomenon characteristic
of the media, with its market-based logic, which orients a great
deal of artistic production today. In this migration the critical
density of those questions is often dissolved, in order to constitute
a new fetish that feeds the institutional art system and the voracious
market that depends on it.
A certain number of questions arise concerning the emergence of
these themes in the territory of art. What are such preoccupations
doing here? Why have they become increasingly recurrent in artistic
practices? And in the case of Brazil, why have they appeared so
recently? What interest do the institutions have in incorporating
them? What I will do here is to sketch out a few prospective pathways
of investigation, in order to confront these questions.
At least two presuppositions orient the choice of those pathways.
The first is that theoretical questions always arise on the basis
of problems that present themselves within a singular context,
insofar as those problems affect our bodies, provoking changes
in the tissue of our sensibility and a resultant crisis of meaning
in our references. It is the uneasiness of the crisis that triggers
the work of thinking, a process of creation that can be expressed
in different forms: verbal (whether theoretical or literary),
visual, musical, cinematographic, etc., or again in a purely existential
form. Whatever the means of expression, we think/create because
something in our everyday lives forces us to invent new possibles,
in order to incorporate into the current map of meaning the sensible
mutation that is seeking passage in our day-to-day experience.
All of this has nothing to do with the narcissistic demand to
align oneself on the “trend” of the moment, in order
to obtain institutional recognition and/or media prestige.
The specificity of art as a mode of the production of thought
is that the changes of the sensible texture are embodied in artistic
action and they present themselves alive within it. Hence the
power of contagion and transformation this action potentially
bears: it puts the world to work and reconfigures its landscape.
Thus it is hardly surprising that art should investigate the present
and partake of the changes that are occurring in actuality. If
we grasp the use of thinking from this perspective, and if we
accept art as a way of thinking, then the insistence on this type
of theme in the artistic territory can indicate to us that the
politics of subjectivity – and especially of the relation
to the other and of cultural creation – is in crisis, and
that a transformation in these fields is surely underway. So,
if we want to answer the questions posed above we cannot avoid
the problematization of this crisis and the process of changing
it involves.
The second presupposition is that to think this problematic field
requires us to summon up a transdisciplinary gaze, for innumerable
layers of reality are interwoven there, whether on the macropolitical
plane (facts and lifestyles in their formal, sociological exteriority)
or on the micropolitical one (the forces that shake reality, dissolving
its forms and engendering others in a process that involves desire
and subjectivity). What will be proposed next are some elements
for a cartography of this process, sketched essentially from a
micropolitical point of view.
In
Search of Vulnerability
One
of the problems of the politics of subjectivation that artistic
practices face has been the anesthesia of our vulnerability to
the other – an anesthesia all the more devastating when
the other is represented by the ruling cartography as hierarchically
inferior, because of his or her economic, social or racial condition,
or on any other basis. But vulnerability is the precondition for
the other to cease being a simple object for the projection of
pre-established images, in order to become a living presence,
with whom we can construct the territories of our existence and
the changing contours of our subjectivity. Now, being vulnerable
depends on the activation of a specific capacity of the sensible,
which has been repressed for many centuries, remaining active
only in certain philosophical and poetic traditions. These traditions
culminated in the artistic vanguards of the late nineteenth and
early twentieth century, whose activity produced effects that
have left their mark on art across the twentieth century. More
broadly, they propagated throughout the social tissue, ceasing
to be a privilege of the cultural elites, particularly from the
1960s on. Neuroscience itself, in recent research, corroborates
this observation that each of our sense organs is the bearer of
a double capacity: cortical and subcortical.
The former corresponds to perception, allowing us to apprehend
the world in terms of forms, in order to then project upon them
the representations we have available, so as to give them meaning.
This capacity, which is the most familiar to us, is associated
with time, with the history of the subject and with language.
With it arise the very figures of subject and object, clearly
delineated and maintaining a relationship of exteriority to each
other. The cortical capacity of the sensible is what allows us
to preserve the map of reigning representations, so that we can
move through a known scenario where things remain in their due
places with a minimum of stability.
The second, subcortical capacity, which is less known to us because
of its historical repression, allows us to apprehend the world
as a field of forces that affect us and make themselves present
in our bodies in the form of sensations. The exercise of this
capacity is disengaged from the history of the subject and of
language. With it, the other is a living presence composed of
a malleable multiplicity of forces that pulse in our sensible
texture, thus becoming part of our very selves. Here the figures
of subject and object dissolve, and with them, that which separates
the body from the world. In the 1980s, in a book, which has recently
been reissued, I began referring to this second capacity of our
sense organs as the “resonant body.” It is our body
as a whole which has this power of resonating with the world.
Between the capacity of our body to resonate and its capacity
of perception there is a paradoxical relation, for these are modes
of apprehending reality that work according to totally distinct
logics, irreducible to each other. It is the tension of this paradox
that mobilizes and galvanizes the potential of thought/creation,
to the extent that the new sensations that incorporate themselves
in our sensible texture carry out mutations that are not transmittable
by our available representations. For this reason they throw our
references into crisis and impose on us the urgency of inventing
new forms of expression. Thus we integrate into our body the signs
that the world gives us, and through their expression, we incorporate
them to our existential territories. In the course of this operation
a shared map of references is reestablished, with new outlines.
Moved by this paradox, we are continually forced to think/create,
as suggested above. The exercise of thought/creation therefore
has a power to intervene in reality and to participate in the
orientation of its destiny, constituting an essential instrument
for the transformation of the subjective and objective landscape.
The weight of each of these modes of knowledge of the world, as
well as the relation between them, is variable. Which is also
to say that the place of the other varies, along with the politics
of relation to him or her. The latter in its turn defines a mode
of subjectivation. The politics of subjectivation are known to
change along with historical transformations, since each regime
depends on a specific form of subjectivity in order to become
viable in the daily life of everyone. It is on this terrain that
a regime acquires existential consistency and concreteness; hence
the very idea of differing “politics” of subjectivation.
Yet in the specific case of neoliberalism, the strategy of subjectivation,
of relation with the other and of cultural creation takes on essential
importance, because it holds a central role in the very principle
that governs the contemporary version of capitalism. For this
regime feeds primarily on subjective forces, and especially on
those of knowledge and creation, to the point where it has recently
been described as “cultural” or “cognitive”
capitalism. Considering what has been indicated above, I will
now propose a cartography of the changes that have led art to
engage with this kind of problem. To do so, I will take the departure
point of the 1960s and 70s.
Birth
of a Flexible Subjectivity
Until
the early 1960s we lived beneath a disciplinary Fordist regime
that reached its height in the “American way of life”
triumphant in the postwar period, when a politics of identity
reigned in subjectivity, along with a rejection of the resonant
body. These two aspects are in fact inseparable, because only
to the extent that we anesthetize our vulnerability can we maintain
a stable image of ourselves and the other, that is, our supposed
identities. Without this anesthesia, we are constantly deterritorialized
and led to reconfigure the outlines of our selves and our territories
of existence. Until the early 1960s, the creative imagination
operated mainly by sneaking away to the fringes. That period came
to an end in the course of 1960s-70s as a result of cultural movements
that problematized the governing regime of the time, calling for
“l'imagination au pouvoir.” Those movements brought
the dominant mode of subjectivation into crisis, and it soon collapsed
along with the entire structure of the Victorian family at its
Hollywood apogee – a structure which had been fundamental
for the regime whose hegemony began to fade at that moment. A
“flexible subjectivity” was then created, accompanied
by radical experimentation with modes of existence and cultural
creation which shattered the “bourgeois” lifestyle
at its politics of desire, with its logic of identity, its relation
to otherness and its culture. In the resulting “counter-culture,”
as it was called, forms were created to express that which was
indicated by the resonant body affected by the otherness of the
world, at grips with the problematics of its time. The forms thus
created tend to transmit subjectivity’s incorporation of
the forces that shake up the environment and deterritorialize
it. The advent of such forms is inseparable from a becoming-other
of the self, but also of the environment. It can be said that
the creation of these new territories has to do with public life,
in the strong sense of the phrase: the collective construction
of reality moved by the tensions that destabilize the reigning
cartographies, as these affect the body of each person singularly,
and as they are expressed on the basis of that singular affect.
In other words, what each person express is the current state
of the world – its meaning, but also and mainly, its lacks
of meaning – as it presents itself within the body. So,
the singular expression of each person participates in the endless
tracing of a necessarily collective cartography.
Today these transformations have consolidated themselves. The
scenario of our times is completely different: we are no longer
beneath the regime of identity, the politics of subjectivation
is no longer the same. We all now have available a flexible and
processual subjectivity as instituted by the counter-cultural
movements, and our force of creation in its experimental freedom
is not only favorably viewed and welcomed, but is even stimulated,
celebrated and frequently glamorized. However, in all this there
is a “but,” which is hardly negligible. In the present,
the most common destiny of flexible subjectivity and of the freedom
of creation that accompanies it is not the invention of forms
of expression motivated by an attention to sensations that signal
the effects of the other’s existence within our resonant
body. What guides us in this creation of territories for our post-Fordist
flexibility is an almost hypnotic identification with the images
of the world broadcast by advertising and mass culture.
By offering ready-made territories to subjectivities rendered
fragile by deterritorialization, these images tend to soothe their
unrest, thus contributing to the deafness of their resonant body,
and therefore to its invulnerability to the affects of the time
that are presented within it. But that may not be the most deadly
aspect of this politics of subjectivation, which instead is the
very message that such images invariably convey, independently
of their style or their target-public. At stake here is the idea
that there exist paradises, that these are now in this world and
not beyond it, and above all, that certain people have the privilege
of inhabiting them. What is more, such images transmit the illusion
that we could be one of these VIPs, if we simply invested all
our vital energy – our desire, affect, knowledge, intellect,
eroticism, imagination, action, etc. – in order to actualize
these virtual worlds of signs in our own existence, through the
consumption of the objects and services they propose to us.
What we are faced with here is a new élan for the idea
of paradise developed by Judeo-Christian religions: the mirage
of a smoothed-over, stable life under perfect control. This kind
of hallucination has its origin in the refusal of one’s
vulnerability to the other and to the deterritorrializing turbulence
that he or she provokes; and also in the disdain for fragility
that necessarily derives from such an experience. This fragility
is nonetheless essential because it indicates the crisis of a
certain diagram of sensibility, its modes of expression, its cartographies
of meaning. By disdaining fragility, it does not call up the desire
for creation anymore; instead it provokes a sentiment of humiliation
and shame whose result is the blockage of the vital process. In
other words, what the Western idea of a promised paradise amounts
to is a refusal of life in its immanent nature as an impulse to
continuous processes of creation and differentiation. In its terrestrial
version, capital has replaced God in his function as keeper of
the promise, and the virtue that makes us worthy of it now becomes
consumption: this is what constitutes the fundamental myth of
advanced capitalism. In such a context, it is at the very least
mistaken to consider that we lack myths today: it is precisely
through our belief in this religious myth of neoliberalism, that
the image-worlds produced by this regime turn into concrete reality
in our own existence.
Flexible
Subjectivity Surrenders to its Pimp
In
other words, the “cultural” or “cognitive”
capitalism that was conceived as a solution to the crisis provoked
by the movements of the 1960s-70s absorbed the modes of existence
that those movements invented and appropriated their subjective
forces, especially that of the creative potential, which at the
time was breaking free in social life. The creative potential
was in effect put into power, as was called for by those movements.
Yet we know now that this rise of the imagination to power is
a micropolitical operation that consists in making its potential
into the major fuel of an insatiable hypermachine for the production
and accumulation of capital – to the point where one can
speak of a new working class, which some authors call the “cognitariat.”
This kind of pimping of the creative force is what has been transforming
the planet into a gigantic marketplace, expanding at an exponential
rate, either by including its inhabitants as hyperactive zombies
or by excluding them as human trash. In fact, those two opposing
poles are interdependent fruits of the same logic; all our destinies
unfold between them. This is the world that the imagination creates
in the present. As one might expect, the politics of subjectivation
and of the relation to the other that predominates in this scenario
is extremely impoverished.
Currently, after almost three decades, it is possible to perceive
this logic of cognitive capitalism operating within our subjectivity.
Yet in the late 1970s, when its installation began, the experimentation
that had been carried out collectively in the decades before in
order to achieve emancipation from the pattern of Fordist and
disciplinary subjectivity was quite difficult to distinguish from
its incorporation into the new regime. The consequences of this
difficulty are that the cloning of the transformations proposed
by those movements was experienced by a great many of their protagonists
as a signal of recognition and inclusion: the new regime appeared
to be liberating them from the marginality to which they had been
confined in the “provincial” world that was now fading
away. Dazzled by the rise to power of their transgressive and
experimental force of creation which was now thrusting them beneath
the glamorizing spotlights of the media, launching them into the
world and lining their pockets with dollars, the inventors of
the transformations of earlier decades frequently fell into the
trap. Many of them surrendered themselves voluntarily to their
pimp, becoming the very creators and constructors of the world
fabricated by and for the new-style capitalism.
This confusion undoubtedly stems from the politics of desire that
characterizes the pimping of subjective and creative forces –
a kind of power-relation that is basically exerted through the
sorcery of seduction. The seducer conjures up a spellbinding idealization
that leads the seduced to identify with the seducer and submit
to him: that is to say, to identify with and submit to the aggressor,
impelled by an inner desire, in hopes of being recognized and
admitted into the seducer’s world. Only recently has this
situation become conscious, which tends to break the spell. This
transpires in the different strategies of individual and collective
resistance that have been accumulating over the last few years,
particularly through the initiative of a new generation which
does not in any way identify with the proposed model of existence
and understands the trick that has been played. It is clear that
artistic practices – through their very nature as expressions
of the problematics of the present as they flow through the artist’s
body – could hardly remain indifferent to this movement.
On the contrary, it is exactly for this reason that these questions
emerged in art from the early 1990s onward, as mentioned at the
outset. Using different procedures, these strategies have been
carrying out an exodus from the minefield stretching between the
opposite and complementary figures of luxury and trash subjectivity,
the field in which human destinies are confined in the world of
globalized capitalism. Amidst this exodus, others kinds of worlds
are being created.
Profitable
Wound
But
the difficulty of resisting the seduction of the serpent of paradise
in its neoliberal version has grown even greater in the countries
of Latin America and Eastern Europe which, like Brazil, were under
totalitarian regimes at the moment when financial capitalism took
hold. Let us not forget that the “democratic opening”
of these countries, which took place during the 1980s, was partially
due to the advent of the post-Fordist regime, whose flexibility
could only encounter the rigidity of the totalitarian systems
as an obstacle.
If we approach the totalitarian regimes not by their visible or
macropolitical side, but instead by their invisible or micropolitical
side, we can see that what characterizes such regimes is the pathological
rigidity of the identity principle. This holds for totalitarianisms
of the Right and the Left, since from the viewpoint of the politics
of subjectivation such regimes are not so different. In order
to hold on to power, they do not content themselves with simply
ignoring the expressions of the resonant body – that is,
the cultural and existential forms engendered in a living relation
with the other, which continually destabilize the reigning cartographies
and deterritorialize us. As a matter of fact, the very advent
of such regimes constitutes a violent reaction to destabilization,
when it exceeds a threshold of tolerability for subjectivities
in a state of servile adaptation to the status quo. For them,
such a threshold does not summon up an urgency to create, but
on the contrary, to preserve the established order at any price.
Destructively conservative, the totalitarian states go much further
than a simple scorn or censorship of the expressions of the resonant
body: they obstinately seek to disqualify and humiliate them,
to the point where the force of creation, of which such expressions
are the product, is so marked by the trauma of this vital terrorism
that it finally blocks itself off, and is thereby reduced to silence.
A century of psychoanalysis has shown that the time required to
confront and work through a trauma of this scope can extend to
as much as thirty years.
It is not hard to imagine that the meeting of these two regimes
makes up a scenario even more vulnerable to the abuses of pimping:
in its penetration to totalitarian contexts, cultural capitalism
took advantage of the experimental past which was exceptionally
audacious and singular in many of those countries; but above all,
it took advantage of the wounds inflicted on the forces of creation
by the blows they had suffered. The new regime presented itself
not only as the system that could welcome and institutionalize
the principle of the production of subjectivity and culture by
the movements of the 1960s and 70s, as had been the case in the
United States and in the countries of Western Europe. In the countries
under dictatorships it gained an extra power of seduction: its
apparent condition as a savior come to liberate the energy of
creation from its bonds, to cure it of its debilitated state,
allowing it to reactivate and manifest itself again.
Power by seduction, characteristic of the worldwide governance
of finance capital, is no doubt “lighter” and subtler
than the heavy hand of local governments commanded by the military
states that preceded; yet its effects are no less destructive,
though with entirely different strategies and ends. It is therefore
clear that the combination of these two historical factors, as
occurred in these countries, has considerably aggravated the state
of pathological alienation of subjectivity, especially with respect
to the politics that governs the relation to the other and the
destiny of the force of creation.
Anthropophagic
Zombies
If
we now focus our micropolitical gaze on Brazil, we will discover
an even more specific feature in the process of neoliberalism’s
installation, and of its cloning of the movements of the 1960s-70s.
In Brazil those movements had a particularity, because of a reactivation
of a certain cultural tradition of the country, which had come
to be known as “anthropophagy.” Some of the characteristics
of this tradition are: the absence of an absolute and stable identification
with any particular repertory and the non-existence of any blind
obedience to established rules, generating a plasticity in the
contours of subjectivity (instead of identities); an opening to
the incorporation of new universes, accompanied by a freedom of
hybridization (instead of a truth-value assigned to a particular
repertory); an agility of experimentation and improvisation to
create territories and their respective cartographies (instead
of fixed territories authorized by stable and predetermined languages)
– all of this carried out with grace, joy and spontaneity.
The tradition had initially been circumscribed and named in the
1920s by the Brazilian modernists gathered around the Anthropophagic
Movement. Like all the cultural vanguards of the early twentieth
century, the visionary spirit of the local modernists already
pointed critically to the limits of the politics of subjectivation,
of relation to the other and of cultural production that characterized
the disciplinary regime, taking its logic of identity as a major
target. But whereas the European vanguards tried to create alternatives
to this model, in Brazil there was already another model of subjectivation
and cultural creation inscribed in people's memory since the very
foundation of the country. Maybe this was the reason why Oswald
de Andrade, the major reference of the Anthropophagic Movement,
could glimpse in the national tradition a “program for the
reeducation of the sensibility” that could function as a
“social therapy for the modern world.” The service
that the Brazilian modernist movement did for the country’s
culture by highlighting and naming this politics was to lend it
value, making possible a consciousness of cultural singularity.
It could then be asserted against the idealization of European
culture, a colonial heritage that marked the intelligentsia of
the country. It’s worth noting that even today this submissive
identification affects a great deal of Brazil’s intellectual
production, which in some sectors has merely replaced its former
object of idealization with North American culture, as is especially
the case in the field of art.
In the 1960s-70s, as we have seen, the inventions of the early
part of the century ceased to be restricted to the cultural vanguards;
after a few decades, they had contaminated the politics of subjectivation,
generating changes that would come to be expressed most strikingly
by the generation born after the Second World War. For the members
of this generation, the disciplinary society that attained its
apogee at that moment became absolutely intolerable, which made
them launch upon the process of rupture with this pattern as manifested
in their own everyday existence. Flexible subjectivity thus became
the new model, the model of a counter-culture. It was in the course
of this process that the ideas of anthropophagy were reactivated
in Brazil, reappearing most explicitly in cultural movements such
as Tropicalismo, taken in its widest sense. By calling up the
traits of a tradition that was deeply inscribed in the Brazilians'
bodies, the counter-culture of the country attained an especially
radical freedom of experimentation, generating artistic proposals
of great force and originality.
Now, the same singularity that gave such strength to the counter-cultural
movements in Brazil also tended to aggravate the cloning of those
movements carried out by neoliberalism. The anthropophagical savoir-faire
of the Brazilians gives them a special facility for adapting to
the new times. The country's elites and middle classes are absolutely
dazzled by being so contemporary, so up-to-date on the international
scene of the new post-identity subjectivities, so well-equipped
to live out this post-Fordist flexibility (which, for example,
makes them international champions in advertising and positions
them high in the world ranking of media strategies). But this
is only the form taken by the voluptuous and alienated abandonment
to the neoliberal regime in its local Brazilian version, making
its inhabitants, especially the city-dwellers, into veritable
anthropophagic zombies.
Predictable characteristics in a country with a colonial history?
Whatever the response, an obvious sign of this pathetically uncritical
identification with finance capital by part of the Brazilian cultural
elite is the fact that the leadership of the group that restructured
the Brazilian state petrified by the military regime, and that
made the process of redemocratization into one of alignment on
neoliberalism, was composed to a great extent of leftist intellectuals,
many of whom had lived in exile during the period of the dictatorship.
The thing is that anthropophagy itself is only a form of subjectivation,
one which happens to be distinct from the politics of identity.
But that doesn’t guarantee anything, because any form can
be invested with different ethics, from the most critical to the
most execrably reactive and reactionary, as Oswald de Andrade
already pointed out in the 1920s, designating the latter as “base
anthropophagy.” What distinguishes between the ethics is
the same “but” that I mentioned above, when I referred
to the difference between the flexible subjectivity invented in
the 1960s-70s and its clone fabricated by post-Fordist capitalism.
The difference lies in the strategy of the creation of territories
and, implicitly, in the politics of the relation to the other.
In order for this process to be oriented by an ethics of the affirmation
of life it is necessary to construct territories with a basis
in the urgencies indicated by the sensations – that is,
by the signs of the presence of the other in our resonant body.
It is around the expression of these signals and their reverberation
in subjectivities that breathe the same air of the times that
possibles open up in individual and collective existence.
Now, that is emphatically not the politics of the creation of
territories that has predominated in Brazil. Instead, neoliberalism
mobilized only the worst of this tradition, the basest anthropophagy.
The “plasticity” of the border between public and
private and the “freedom” of private appropriation
of public goods – taken with derision and exhibited with
pride – is one of its worst facets, clearly imbued with
the colonial heritage. Indeed, this is exactly the facet of anthropophagy
to which Oswald de Andrade had called attention when he designated
its reactionary side. And this lineage is so intoxicating for
Brazilian society, especially for its political and economic elites,
that it would be naive to imagine it could simply disappear as
though by magic.
There have been five centuries of anthropophagic experience, and
almost one of reflection upon it, since the moment when the modernists
circumscribed it critically and made it conscious. Against this
backdrop the Brazilians’ anthropophagic savoir-faire –
especially as it was actualized in the 1960s-70s – can still
be useful today, but not to guarantee their access to the imaginary
paradises of capital; on the contrary, to help them problematize
the disgraceful confusion between the two politics of flexible
subjectivity and to separate the wheat from the chaff, essentially
on the basis of the place or non-place that is attributed to the
other. This knowledge would offer the conditions for fertile participation
in the debate that is gathering internationally around the problematization
of a regime that has now become hegemonic, and also in the invention
of strategies of exodus outside the imaginary field whose origins
lie in its deadly myth.
Art has a special vocation to carry out such a task, to the extent
that by bringing the mutations of sensibility into the realm of
the visible and the speakable, it can unravel the cartography
of the present, liberating life at its points of interruption
and releasing its power of germination – a task utterly
distinct from and irreducible to macropolitical activism. The
latter relates to reality from the viewpoint of representation,
denouncing the conflicts inherent to the distribution of places
established in the reigning cartography (conflicts of class, race,
gender, etc.) and struggling for a more just configuration. These
are two distinct and complementary gazes on reality, corresponding
to two different potentials of intervention, both participating
in their own ways in the shaping of its destiny. Nonetheless,
problematizing the confusion between the two politics of flexible
subjectivity so as to intervene effectively in this field and
contribute to breaking the spell of the seduction that sustains
the neoliberalism power at the very heart of its politics of desire,
necessarily entails treating the illness that arose from the unfortunate
confluence in Brazil of the three historical factors that exerted
a negative effect on the creative imagination: the traumatic violence
of the dictatorship, the pimping by neoliberalism and the activation
of a base anthropophagy. This confluence clearly exacerbated the
lowering of the critical capacity and the servile identification
with the new regime.
Here we can return to our initial inquiry into the particular
situation of Brazil within the geopolitical field of the international
debate that has been gathering in the territory of art for over
a decade, around the destiny of subjectivity, its relation to
the other and its potential of invention under the regime of cultural
capitalism. The unfortunate confluence of these three historical
factors could be one of the reasons why the debate is so recent
in this country. It is clear that there are exceptions, as is
the case of the Brazlian artist Lygia Clark, who just one year
after May 1968 already foresaw this situation. As she described
it at the time: “In the very moment when he digests the
object, the artist is digested by the society that has already
found a title and a bureaucratic occupation for him: he will be
the future engineer of entertainment, an activity that has no
effect whatsoever on the equilibrium of social structures. The
only way for the artist to escape co-optation is to succeed in
unleashing a general creativity, without any psychological or
social limits. This creativity will be expressed in lived experience.”
What
are the powers of art?
From
within this new scenario emerge the questions that are asked of
all those who think/create – and especially artists –
in the attempt to delineate a cartography of the present, so as
to identify the points of asphyxiation of the vital process and
to bring about, at exactly those points, the irruption of the
power to create other worlds.
A first bloc of questions would relate to the cartography of pimping
exploitation. How does the tourniquet that leads us to tolerate
the intolerable, and even to desire it, come to take hold of our
vitality? By means of what processes is our vulnerability to the
other anesthetized? What mechanisms of our subjectivity lead us
to offer our creative force for the fulfillment of the market?
And our desire, our affects, our eroticism, our time? How are
all of the potentials captured by the faith in the promise of
paradise by the capitalist religion? Which artistic practices
have fallen into this trap? What allows us to identify them? What
makes them so numerous?
Another bloc of questions, which is in fact inseparable from the
former, would relate to the cartography of the movements of exodus.
How to liberate life from its new dead ends? What can our force
of creation do in order to confront this challenge? Which artistic
devices are succeeding in that confrontation? Which of them are
treating the territory of art itself, a territory that is increasingly
lusted for and at the same time undermined by the pimping that
takes it as a bottomless well for the extortion of the surplus
value of creativity, in order to increase its seductive power?
In short, how to reactivate in our times, in each situation, the
political potential inherent in artistic activity, its power to
unleash possibles? By which I mean, its power to embody the mutations
of the sensible, and thereby, contribute to reconfiguring the
contours of the world.
Answers to these and other questions are being constructed by
different artistic practices, along with territories of all kinds
that are being reinvented every day, outside the imaginary field
whose origins lie in the deadly myth proposed by cultural capitalism.
It is impossible to foresee the effects of these subtle perforations
in the compact mass of dominant brutality that envelops the planet
today. The only thing we can say is that by all indications, the
geopolitical landscape of globalized pimping is no longer exactly
the same; molecular currents would be moving the earth. Could
this be a mere hallucination?