Stark, objective, slightly humourless but extremely concentrated works are shown in the rooms of the Ludwig Museum. Curator Kati Simon has invited artists who approach art with a social responsibility, who formulate their works almost by directly recording social-political events. Instead of traditional art genres, this exhibition presents the recycling, transcription and focusing of signs generally accepted in society. The activity of the artist does not turn into active resistance - what we can witness at the exhibition are impersonal games.
Perhaps it is this pre-packaged provocation, the excessive distance from the subject matter that bothered me in the works in the show. As if taking social responsibility were stuck at simply presenting the subject matter, as if it were not necessary for art to force itself through to the other side. In these very same rooms, during the previous exhibition at the Ludwig, we could witness that video art in Eastern Europe over the past 20 years presented very tough and clearly understandable works about the shifting consciousness in the years of post-communist transformation. At the current exhibition, the Danes have honestly presented the problems they were faced with, but then went no further. So it is questionable whether Hungarian artists, who are not only more heated in their temperament but are also better practiced in power games, will be affected by these works enough to start a dialogue about the topics addressed.
Still, there are quite a few exciting pieces. At the entrance to the exhibition is the Danish national symbol, the mermaid of Copenhagen, who sits staring at herself in a mirror. Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset offer a finely humorous take on narcissist national identity. The glass plate very effectively breaks the romantic relationship between the statue and its environment. Another powerful work is shown in the back room: four videos by Superflex who communicate the economic crisis through hypno-therapy and economic dependence through the subjection of the psyche. A soft-spoken therapist in a dark projection room acts like Thomas Mann's magician. The public space projects by Bosch & Fjord represent a refreshing exception by offering the opportunity of real dialogue with Budapest locations. Pictogram signs showing "Kissing not allowed," "Screaming not allowed," "Couch on the street" are now on display in the museum but will be transferred to the locations throughout Budapest on the basis of votes by visitors.
The rest of the works are more restrained. Jens Haaning's newspaper cut-outs showing photos of local girls in bikinis represent a much-used gag, even including the interviews made with the girls displayed under the images. (What is the sexiest thing on me? Where would my dream date take place? Do I have enough self-confidence?) Haaning also presents free postcards that attract attention to some of the cracks in Danish democracy, such as efforts to close down Christiania, the evacuation of squatters, the neglect of the Muslim minority. But uncovering problems by means of postcards is not really effective either in content or in effect. Even Katya Sander's video does not really come into confrontation with existing power relations, partly because the question "what is capitalism" is asked in the wind-swept planes, in conversation with families on day-trips.
Tue Greenfort's environmentally conscious installation is partially a reaction to being displayed in Budapest. It draws attention to the destruction of European sturgeon or Beluga in the Danube: the neon sign "Caviar Bar" brings a deeper meaning than most of the works on display, something that also works on a gut level. The majority of the works displayed at the exhibition are somewhere between concept art and action art, but they are so careful and dry that their effect is suffocated. That's a great shame, because this practically prevents the concept for this exhibition from reaching visitors.
Author: Eszter Götz / Photo: LUMU
