ON THE HIDDEN POLITICS OF ART INSTITUTIONS
Do Women Have To Be Naked To Get Into the Met. Museum? (1989), Guerilla Girls
The museum is a place to experience art, explore various ways of crafting and learn new things through the reading of artworks. This is especially the case with political art – providing an insight into the making and unmaking of the world. However, the hidden processes of a museum rarely come to the surface.
In the late 1960s, many artists started to investigate and question these unseen affiliations in their practice. These were the beginnings of the art movement Institutional Critique. The movement included many artists, such as Hans Haacke, Daniel Burren and Marcel Broodthaers. They began to challenge the romanticised perceptions of the museum as solely a place to experience art. Institutional Critique aims to uncover the engagements of the museums' sponsors and individuals involved in the institutions' governance. As a direct consequence, art considered Institutional Critique has been repeatedly subject to censorship. These acts of silencing further reveal the power dynamics behind the drawn curtains of the museum.
This becomes apparent in Haacke's Manet-PROJEKT'74 (1974), which he created for the PROJEKT'74 exhibition at the Wallraf-Richartz-Museum. For this installation, he mapped the provenance of Manet's 'Bunch of Asparagus' (1880) on ten panels – identifying the previous owners by name as well as their social and economic engagements. The last panel of Haacke's installation is dedicated to Hermann Joseph Abs – and reveals his crucial role during the Second World War as a financial advisor of the Nazis. Abs also became the Spokesman of the Board of Managing Directors of the 'Deutsche Bank' from 1957 to 1967 and was subsequently chairman of the Supervisory Board until 1976. At the time of the PROJEKT'74 exhibition, Abs was the chairman of the board of trustees of the 'Wallraf-Richartz-Museum'. Presenting these precarious ties between a former NS-supporter and the museum led the exhibition's curatorial team to censor Haacke's project – consequently not including it in the show.
Manet-PROJEKT’74 (1974), Hans Haacke, installation view at Paul Maenz Gallery, Cologne in 1974
The Deutsche Bank has a history of supporting Nazis AND the arts, made apparent by its solely for art purposes, dedicated website. With their 'art programme', they have funded (and continue to fund) various awards and support numerous institutions, such as Tate. However, their motto; "Art builds. Art questions. Art transcends borders. Art works.", does not deceive us – instead, it reveals a pathetic attempt to polish their image and hide the morally questionable aspect of their operations and processes (such as being one of the main European Banks profiting from tax havens).
One of the most famous art organisations in the UK is Tate; an exempt charity and non-governmental institution governed by a board of trustees, with the UK Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) being its main sponsor. Tate also offers corporate partnerships and memberships, with their corporate partners including, among others, the Bank of America, Hyundai, BMW and, as previously mentioned, Deutsche Bank.
Tate's galleries attract millions of visitors, which would not be possible without such sponsors. Focusing on African and Asian art, it could be argued that the partnership between Tate and Deutsche Bank is an endeavour of great importance in facilitating exposure through such exhibitions. However, while the bank is profiting from being associated with such an internationally renowned art institution, Tate is not. Demonstrating that art can be just another capitalist commodity, which is hardly news – but still doesn't sit quite right. Especially when the motivation behind an artwork is to question and critique social and political issues – of which, corporate sponsors, like the Deutsche Bank, follow a completely different philosophy – often contributing to or being the very reason for the problems in the first place.
Institutional critique has become more 'mainstream,' with artworks silenced less and less - readily exhibited in the institutions they were once created to critique. Furthermore, it has become a frequently discussed topic among curators and critics. However, this increasingly open engagement creates an ambivalence - since institutions are still dependent on funding and support by controversial stakeholders and corporations – essentially tainting the institution itself.
The questions remain. How is the artist and their work 'compromised' by such partnerships? Or is the platform, the reach, an institution provides of greater importance? Principles are naturally important but don't pay the rent. So how can practitioners' control in which context their artwork is presented after they sell their work?
For Haacke the 'Artists' Reserved Sales and Transfer Agreement', also referred to as 'Artist's' Contract', provided a solution. Originally created in 1971 by Seth Siegelaub – a curator of conceptual art – and lawyer Robert Projansky, the contract is an attempt to protect the integrity of artworks by allowing the artist the right to decide in which context it is exhibited after a collector or a gallery has purchased it. Furthermore, in case of a profitable resale, the contract obliges the seller to pay the artist 15% of the profit - not making it very popular among collectors. However, the agreement allows artists like Haacke to stay in control – previously enabling him to veto the inclusion of his work in a public exhibition – sponsored by a corporation he did not want 'to be associated with'.
The ‘Artist’s contract’ may be a good first step to protect the integrity of an artwork after it is sold - allowing the artist to keep some control in the face of institutions. In the long run, perhaps what is needed is a more radical change - proposing a new relationship (or a divesting of relationships) between the artist and the institution - and asking ourselves the question; what does art look like beyond the museum?