What is the role of art and artists in a time of war?
The art world shares its opinion on art and war
The morning of February 24 changed the world, suddenly making unimportant what had seemed so unimaginably important the night before. As the torrent of terrifying news swept over us, convictions were shattered and priorities radically changed. Watching the horrors of war in the 21st century on their computer screens, many artists and those involved in the artistic process have begun to ask each other a question that had not been a part of everyday European life for so long that it now sounds almost like an antiquated hypothetical: What is the role of art and artists in a time of war?
Artists, if you have a voice, use it!!!! Raise funds for Art, peace, talk, poetry, music, food, and health care – and NOT WAR!
Bob and Roberta Smith, artist:
The art world certainly needs to bare its soul and inquire quite how at the top end it became so addicted to being the lipstick on the guerrilla of Big Money and oligarch culture. So, first off, until this war is over, art needs to get out of Russia, and Russian money and influence needs to get out of our museums. I have been making art works to prompt direct donations to the DEC (Disasters Emergency Committee) Ukraine Humanitarian Appeal; it’s raised thousands of pounds, but that’s still a small amount. I have been using #helpartsavelives. Artists can also use #Ukrainesupportpledge to find an audience to raise funds. We must support the brave voices inside Russia who speak out, and defend them and publish their stories as they inevitably face long prison sentences. Like most people, I am heartbroken by what is going on but… artists, if you have a voice, use it!!!! Raise funds for Art, peace, talk, poetry, music, food, and health care – and NOT WAR!
When we struggle to grasp the words to express the reality we find ourselves in, the visual impact of art can have the immediacy to convey solidarity, horror, or other.
Thaddaeus Ropac, gallerist:
I think that artists are both creatively and politically minded, whether they take a stand directly through their work or through their actions outside of their artistic practice. Either way, an artist’s visual language has a fundamental role in responding to or helping us reflect on the world and the times we are living in, and this is heightened in a period of of war. When we struggle to grasp the words to express the reality we find ourselves in, the visual impact of art can have the immediacy to convey solidarity, horror, or other.
It is the responsibility of art, artists and art institutions to examine socially relevant questions on the pulse of time.
Kaspar Mühlemann Hartl, director of museum in progress:
How do we make war visible? How do we communicate the pain, the suffering, the many calamities, the devastations to people who are not immediately affected? How do we cope with its long-lasting after effects even if the war is over? Do we write newspaper articles, do we make pictures or films of fights, do we post twitter entries, do we organise demonstrations of solidarity? They all have their purpose and merits, however they lack something only art can offer.
Art engages people on many different levels simultaneously. Art moves its audience emotionally, it can change people’s thinking, build bridges to individual worlds of experience and, thanks to multiple ways of being read, facilitate multi-layered perspectives on reality. It is also able to reach a broad audience in its everyday lives, especially as nowadays many institutions bring art projects into public spaces. All warlike conflicts - even if they take place in more distant parts of the world - deserve great and sustained public attention as a catalyst for political efforts to resolve these conflicts.
It is the responsibility of art, artists and art institutions to examine socially relevant questions on the pulse of time. Art cannot prevent or end wars, but it very much has the potential to engage people in a way no other medium can.
Nikita Kadan, artist and curator:
Just like people from other walks of life, artists are also human bodies surviving under fire. Just like other people, they fight, protect themselves and their loved ones or continue to hold on to the remaining elements of peace-time life.
Of course, those who live directly in the catastrophe zone experience a certain emotional distance between them and others, whose existence takes place in more peaceful locations ‒ that’s inevitable; experience has impact on our sensibilities. There is a sense of gratitude toward those people from the ‒ largely Western ‒ outside world who offer us help, although it is clouded by guilt in front of the non-artists who do not receive this support although they suffer as much as we do. There are bursts of anger toward those who propose to interact with the aggressor state as part of a cultural ‘business as usual’ scheme, limiting themselves to nebulous statements of supporting ‘world peace’ without specifying the guilty party responsible for the war. There is even a certain compassion toward colleagues from Russia who have been placed by history in front of a moral choice that is too hard to make. Because [here in Ukraine,] alongside missile attacks and phosphorus bombs, we have been gifted absolute certainty.
The bottom line is, many of us artists in Ukraine carry on their work. Many of those who have become refugees also work. Others, sitting in basement shelters without electricity, accumulate experience that will find its expression later.
As for me personally, after three weeks in Kyiv and a little curatorial exhibition in a gallery that has been transformed into a bomb shelter, I am currently working in Ivano-Frankivsk on an art residency for internally displaced authors.
That’s speaking of artists. As for the effect of art ‒ it is connected with the practice of understanding things that happen around us, searching for vantage points that have not yet been used for viewing the world. The darkness and opacity of art clarifies the world. In war time, when we encounter unseen and horrific things, this ability can become a very effective instrument for saving your own personal sanity, in terms of a historically short time span, and a means of protecting the world from repeating this catastrophe ‒ in terms of a longer time span. But protection does not mean a guarantee. Any kind of ‘never again’ must be practiced on a daily basis. Which brings us to a completely different problem: not everybody has access to art; meanwhile, war has access to everybody.
Evita Vasiļjeva, artist:
This is still a question for me every day. I still haven’t found the answer for myself.
I probably won’t have much to say yet, but it would be very interesting to hear what others have to say! It is difficult to make your voice heard in the current stream of information and news because there are as many voices saying that art is meaningless as there are voices saying that we need to be more active right now.
I probably tend to agree more with the latter – that right now, in spite of everything, we need to be active, not give up, and not let Putin oppress and divide everyone. Maybe I am naive. The massive horror of reality is now “the elephant in the room” and cannot be denied.
I really liked the words of artist Mariana Vassileva in our private correspondence in the context of the Riga International Biennial of Contemporary Art: “[…] but Art has a voice too and works with and reflects on reality. The human-body is under attack, but our spirit, our soul, our imagination, should be stronger than before.”
I was also inspired by the words of Georgian art historian Dato Koroshinadze (see below). It seems to be the inspirational words of others – who are better at putting it all into words – that are strengthening at the moment. I’m not a wordsmith myself, but the writings of others certainly help to articulate one’s own course.
Volker Diehl, gallerist:
All throughout my art life, and that is almost 50 years, I have always fought and believed in the arts as something which represents a peaceful attitude.
For me, art connects all of us, beyond the differences of nations, politics, religions, ideologies, sexual inclinations, etc. – like a bridge around the entire world.
And I still believe in it and not in cancel culture, which, sadly, is happening now in many countries on all levels in the art world.
I know it is very difficult in war times, but we who are representing the arts have to stand up now for peace and our humanitarian values.
I know it is very difficult in war times, but we who are representing the arts have to stand up now for peace and our humanitarian values.
Johanna and Friedrich Gräflings, art collectors:
Art is always a mirror of society and depending from which angle it can reveal, disclose but also create hope. Due to the power of its neutral position it shall have in those situations we are encountering right now, a political stand and will to create a voice for the citizens to govern, while reaching a global audience beyond!
Viktor Timofeev, artist:
In my opinion, if one has the capacity for it, I think it is important to react, to record, and to create for everyone. As information and truth are so precious and fragile at this time, the subjectivity of art-making has the ability to tell us more sides of a story – beyond facts and numbers. I have to admit I don’t know the function of exhibiting art to the public at a time of this kind, and hesitate to make any claims about that. To me, the real function is more internal – addressing a future audience in a changed world.
The most important thing for artists today is preserving their mental health. An artist may sometimes be more sensitive than average and therefore more vulnerable.
Pavel Otdelnov, artist:
It is important for me to observe the events as they unfold and, as much as possible, maintain an inner detachment regarding them. It is important to have a civic position and make it known openly. It is perhaps an excellent thing if an artist is able to make a direct statement in the field of art. Although I know for sure that I should not expect it of all of my colleagues.
Of the things that I consider successful in the context of the latest events, I would highlight Prayer by Daria Serenko*. Form-wise, it is a very simple work (actually, it’s more like the author’s cry coming from the soul), a prayer to Our Lady for Ukraine and Russia. The Prayer was taken up by people; somebody presented it in the style of the Sofrino Factory production (along the lines of Orthodox Church aesthetics), and it went viral on the Odnoklassniki social network. The result was a genuine people’s prayer for peace.
The most important thing for artists today is preserving their mental health. An artist may sometimes be more sensitive than average and therefore more vulnerable.
*Daria Serenko, a poet and activist, initiator of the Silent Picket; Arterritory.com wrote about her in our article entitled “BeZumiye”.
Elza Sīle, artist:
Last week was a very difficult one, and to be honest, I was not able to do much secluded interaction with my material; I need a fresh mind and joy for that to happen.
A couple of years ago I started to engage in social media as a very crude form of art practice. While entertaining myself with image-streams, I was thinking of my actions as being similar to those of the Cold War period, when early propaganda videos or photos were fragmented and re-glued into new sequences. It totally surprised me how people still trust a sequence of images even if it is obviously contradictory or fictitious. Running these image sequences is like a form of a training for me, and a question for others – can we notice the priming, the absurd linkages created, and the reflection on the moment when association turns into a memory of a factual event? Namely, issues of manipulative visual rhetoric are crucial in my practice, and I think they are a crucial part of mass education as well. A star that shines bright on a red background and the symmetry of lush laurel leaves is just irresistible glory. I remember the power of imagery and my own fascination with it when I was a child and did not yet have any internal tools of resistance.
Together with the kim? team and curator Zane Onckule, for almost a year we have been planning a solo show on deciphering the thick, dark-green volumes of the LSSR (Latvian Soviet Socialist Republic) Encyclopedia, which, as it turns out, was one of top obscure objects of our early years. For me, the issue of widespread resistance to populist speech and an individual’s critical thinking ability being embedded in various ideological battle fields is more important than the chaotic actions taking place when the cruelty of war is already nearby.
For this specific moment, well-written art theory directed onto widely misunderstood issues such as the Eastern Block’s “whiteness” and “economic privilege” after the Soviet regime is a necessity. Many artists here in Switzerland are leftists and anti-West oriented, completely ignorant about Eastern Europe’s past, and as a consequence, are rather silent about Russia’s actions or even falling victim to Russia’s propaganda* (www.vice.com/en/article/wxdb5z/redfish-media-russia-propaganda-misinformation). This last week I’ve been writing a lot about politically active artists who freely share and celebrate the symbol of the hammer and sickle while being totally ignorant about the crimes that were committed under this flag and regime in the former Soviet countries. It is important to educate people more.
Katja Novitskova, artist:
I think that in a time of war, an artist should first and foremost be a human. And if she/he has some strength left for it, their art should express the unexpressed and attempt to capture the zeitgeist ‒ but that is also true in times of peace. I find it harder to discuss the role of art institutions in times of war: I do not know what is the correct way for museums/curators to act, either in the territory of the aggressor country or in the one that is defending itself… One thing is clear ‒ art can be a source of a difficult truth in the former case, and a source of something profoundly hope-inspiring in the latter.
Art must now speak a very emotional language, and ten years from now, the works of the artists who will be able to rally and create at this moment will be outstanding.
Uldis Pīlēns, architect, entrepreneur:
I have always been interested in and have connected with works of art that have been created under the influence of great changes. These are the most powerful works because times of change are the times of artists. In this respect, nothing in the world has changed. In my opinion, art must now speak a very emotional language, and ten years from now, the works of the artists who will be able to rally and create at this moment will be outstanding. Painting, graphics, sculpture, or any other art form – all of these works will be in demand. Because such shocks shake the spiritual state of each of us, regardless of one’s individual level of emotionality. This is a time when emotions have to come out and into the world. This is a time when it no longer matters how much you will earn from it, nor does your relationship with the pragmatic question of “How can I best communicate?” matter. This is a time that allows good artists to display their true emotions in a work of art.
People need help and I believe the art community should show its humanitarian potential and use all opportunities at its disposal to contribute to better circumstances for people in crisis.
Tevž Logar, independent editor, writer, curator:
The role of art and artists has always been indispensable when it comes to shaping and understanding our society and environment. It is a very important critical voice that often reveals things that are not seen at first glance, or just gives us an opportunity to reflect on things mentally or aesthetically. In the context of war, this kind of agency is, of course, even more important. I wouldn’t like to define this thought just through this generalization, nevertheless, at the time I am writing this, people are dying, families are being broken up, homes are being destroyed… What I believe is important at this moment is Art – as a community, as a network of individuals, institutions and organizations around the world, and what each one of us can do in this disastrous situation. People need help and I believe the art community should show its humanitarian potential and use all opportunities at its disposal to contribute to better circumstances for people in crisis. Not just now, with the situation in Ukraine, but also in terms of the violence and inequality that overwhelm our everyday life in every corner of the world.
© Krišs Salmanis
Jakub Szczęsny, architect:
Artists have the privilege of being able to create direct and indirect statements of a different kind with the use of their skills and all available “apparatuses” of creation. These statements can have great power, especially when used in a digital way and via social media – which we can see with the poster (based on a magazine cover) hanging from the facade of the Museum of the History of Medicine in front of the russian (with a small letter) embassy in Riga. Or with the hilarious poster by Paweł Jońca picturing a red bear painfully stepping on Ukrainian-flag-colored LEGO brick-like objects on the floor.
Yet, it is of great importance to properly address our messages not only to our own cultural-cum-social bubbles but also to average Russians (with a big letter) and Europeans, especially those who have been brainwashed by Putin’s propaganda or who for generations have been formed into passive endorsers of the system. The same can be said about directing ourselves towards the rest of the world, because we have to realize that it’s actually a fight against a troll factory and all of the Putin-backing "sputniks" that have formed incredible influence in remote locations that include the US, Africa and Latin America.
Another dimension is purely humanistic: whoever we are, we can help. By welcoming and helping refugees, by sending money to NGOs, by volunteering, giving jobs, etc. We decided to turn my studio into an apartment for four women from Kiev, and we found schools for two of them and a job for their mother.
Last but not least, we can end or at least suspend any type of collaborations with Russian institutions. Some time ago, I, as co-creator of a brand of prefab wooden houses, and the firm’s owner were invited to meet an economics attaché from the Russian embassy to talk about exporting dozens of houses to St. Petersburg. When were sitting at the table in a gloomy Russian-owned building in Warsaw, the guy and his entourage shamelessly told us that the entire thing is an initiative of Putin’s foundation and that the foundation takes 7% from the deal. When we asked what else does the foundation help with, the attaché said that almost EVERYTHING that is being imported into Russia goes through it...
So, now imagine: Mr. Putin takes 7% from any import into “his” country: no wonder why, according to a Harvard study, he is the richest man on earth. Of course, unofficially.
I am far from being an idealist, and neither is the boss of the firm. Yet, when we left the meeting we were of one mind: no way are we going to collaborate with a parasitic thief. We didn’t want to dirty our hands and know that we were helping a dictator get richer and more influential.
Because pecunia does olet*.
*Pecunia non olet is a Latin saying that means “money does not stink”.
Artemy Troitsky, journalist, music critic:
The role of an artist at a time of war is to fight for freedom and justice. Some do it on the battlefield, some do it with their artworks. Some console the victims, some encourage the warriors. In any case, those artists who are responsible and have their hearts in the right place shouldn’t stay away from the tragedies of war and should serve the forces of goodwill.
If there is anything to gain out of this tragedy, it is perhaps a stronger pivot by the West towards this region, out of solidarity for the Ukrainian people as well as for all countries who were colonised by the soviet imperialist experiment.
David Ashley Kerr, curator, writer, artist:
While larger institutions and initiatives have been able to raise more through donated art sales, which is excellent, it felt equally important and valuable to promote a sense of community in times like these. Social cohesion heals and helps us collectively process grief, loss, and trauma. And speaking of trauma, the discrimination and misunderstanding of Eastern Europe by large parts of the world, and Europe itself, is something particularly disturbing that has become more evident during this war, shining a light on outdated or false perceptions, attitudes and histories. If there is anything to gain out of this tragedy, it is perhaps a stronger pivot by the West towards this region, out of solidarity for the Ukrainian people as well as for all countries who were colonised by the soviet imperialist experiment.
Viktor Misiano, curator, art theoretician:
There is very little art can do in the face of war. War simplifies social relationships to an extreme; meanwhile, art is derivative of the very complexity thereof. And yet artists, just like curators, art critics, etc., are also public figures, and their position, when expressed, may have resonance. However, that would be a civic gesture, not an artistic one. There are certain kinds of poetics ‒ predominantly of the activist variety ‒ that combine the civic and artistic elements organically. War increases demand for this kind of poetics. Still, activism does not exhaust the artistic range of an era; the other end of the spectrum is occupied by original poetics that probably cannot be subjected to adjustment to the current agenda without significant conceptual and artistic losses. And yet this kind of creative experience seems to retain its justification under wartime conditions. It carries and maintains the kind of normality that war is attempting to cancel. Between these two extremities, a myriad of intermediate forms exist. All of them ‒ but particularly approaches to their public representation ‒ may have a meaning, just like they may be subject to criticism. Everything now will be determined by the specifics of the situation, by the context. Every step, every gesture will carry all kinds of risks with them. But who said that war was easy?!
Title image: Illustration by Kirils Kirasirovs
