VŠECHNY ZDE NABÍZENÉ PUBLIKACE MÁME SKLADEM
Domácí stránka > FOREIGN LANGUAGES > detail titulu
DETAIL TITULU:
Czech Action Art
Happenings, Actions, Events, Land Art, Body Art and Performance Art behind the Iron Curtain
Morganová Pavlína
Karolinum 2014
brožovaná, 288 str.
ISBN 9788024623177
This is the first ever in-depth interpretation of Czech Action Art as a vast and very original stream of Czech post-war art within the context of the region’s complex socio-political history. Based on the author’s more than decade-long research, her interviews with artists and interpretations of many of their performances and other actions, Czech Action Art also features a list of all Czech Happenings, events, performances, body-art pieces, land-art related and other actions from the 1960s to 1989. With more than 200 illustrations, many of which have never appeared in publications, it provides a vivid picture of the Czech performance art scene.
List of Illustrations
Acknowledgements
Preface
Czech Action Art
The Artwork and Its Context – A Historical Framework
The Victory of the Idea over Matter – A Question of Documentation
Czech Performance Art from Futurism to the Present
I. A Breakthrough to the Everyday
1. Milan Knížák's Aktual
2. Czech Collective Actions
II. A Return to Nature
1. A Transformed Landscape
2. Nature and the Body
3. Elements
III. An Experience of the Body
1. The Prague Body-Art Troika
2. Performance Art of the 1970s and 80s
Epilogue
Post-1989 Czech Action Art
List of Actions
Czech Action Art 1960–1989
Bibliography
Index
Acknowledgements
Preface
Czech Action Art
The Artwork and Its Context – A Historical Framework
The Victory of the Idea over Matter – A Question of Documentation
Czech Performance Art from Futurism to the Present
I. A Breakthrough to the Everyday
1. Milan Knížák's Aktual
2. Czech Collective Actions
II. A Return to Nature
1. A Transformed Landscape
2. Nature and the Body
3. Elements
III. An Experience of the Body
1. The Prague Body-Art Troika
2. Performance Art of the 1970s and 80s
Epilogue
Post-1989 Czech Action Art
List of Actions
Czech Action Art 1960–1989
Bibliography
Index
This book is the first comprehensive academic study of Czech Action Art, including -performance, body art, and land art-related performance and actions, available in English. The fact that this pioneering study breaks new ground in terms of its subject matter is just one of its many merits. In this study, Morganova presents a nuanced overview of the genre of action art and its particular manifestations in the Czech Lands. Her analysis combines local and global art historical and socio-political contextualization. She not only places the artists and their artworks in a national context, informing the reader as to the local social, political and historic circumstances that stimulated and shaped the production of the work, but also makes parallels with Western European and North American counterparts, in order to draw out what is particular and unique about Czech Action Art.
A rich introduction sets up the context for the development of Action Art in the Czech lands, providing an overview of the socio-political context that was integral to the development of the genre. Morganova also addressed the difficulties that come with researching and writing on the topic, mainly with regard to documentation, as many of these works of art were not made with an awareness that they would eventually become historically important. The author's explanation is necessary to understand the methods that she used to create the first written history of Czech Action Art, relying heavily on original interviews with the artists and access to their personal archives. Finally, she discusses the likely sources for and pre-history of Action Art in Czechoslovakia, which was decidedly different from that of action and performance art in the West, namely in its absence of Dadaist and Futurist traditions.
Following the introduction, Morganova divided the text into three distinct sections, based on common themes that she observed in her research: action art relating to the everyday; land-based action art; and that which deals with the body. This division is helpful to understanding the varying manifestations of action art in the Czech lands. The author acknowledges that these categories are fluid, and throughout the text cross-references with other chapters when the work of one artist fits into more than one category.
The text strikes a good balance between historical contextualization and art historical analysis, and a number of artists and artworks are addressed. To the author's credit, this thorough coverage is not done at the expense of in depth analysis; none of the artists are glossed over and each is given a full discussion and analysis. Of particular interest is the second chapter, which focuses on Czech Action Art that is based on nature and the land. This is a unique strand of performance and action art that truly sets the Czech variant of the genre apart from other manifestations of it, and underscores the Czechs' unique contribution to the genre.
Chapters one and three will be of particular interest to those who are familiar with some of the internationally renowned figures of Czech Action Art, for example, Milan Knizak (who plays a prominent role in chapter one), and the Czech Body Art "troika," Petr Stembera, Karel Miler and Jan Mlčoch, who are featured in chapter three.
Finally, a substantial epilogue brings the reader up to date with what is happening currently in the genre of Action Art in the Czech Republic since the end of communism. This chapter is important, as it discusses the post-communist period, and demonstrates how Action Art continues to be a necessary and relevant genre to artists, despite the new freedoms that democracy brought with it. Together with the introduction, which offers the pre-history, it functions as a nice bookend to the main story of body and action art during the communist period.
This book has many strengths: it is written on the basis of several years of dedicated research to the subject, and informed by extensive interviews with the artists and access to of their personal archives. Next, it contains a rich bibliography of both Czech and international publications, which places it in dialogue with global art history. In its comprehensive treatment, it introduces the rest of the world to a number of unique and fascinating Czech Action artists. Furthermore, with more than 200 illustrations, many of which have never appeared in international publications, it provides a vivid picture of the Czech performance art scene. Given that there is currently a growing interest in the fields of performance, action and body art, particularly in Central and Eastern Europe, the timing of this publication could not be better. I am convinced that this book will be well-awaited and eagerly devoured by art historians throughout the world, as well as by those with an interest in the particular socio-political context in this part of Central and Eastern Europe.
Z recenzního posudku: Amy Bryzgel
Czech Action Art: Happenings, Actions, Events, Land Art, Body Art and Performance Art Behind the Iron Curtain is an invaluable guide to the uninitiated reader as well as providing ample rewards for readers already familiar with the field, for Morganová does not restrict her attention to the best known artists, but casts her net widely, introducing the activities and actions of a great many interesting figures who have yet to be recognised internationally. The overarching thesis of Morganová s study is that Action Art had a particular meaning under the conditions of totalitarianism to which she refers throughout the book. In this respect, her argument is a successor of the writings of Jindřich Chalupecký (1910-1990), probably the most important Czech art critic of the period with which the book is concerned. Reflecting on his experience of living and working in Prague, Chalupecký reflected that Art lived in catacombs here in the 1950s and 60s, and therefore had a character and meaning that is distinct from that in the West.... The different conditions gave rise here to a different art, which is why it cannot continue in the same direction that international art is developing. Modern art has become a business affair there....' If Chalupecký was pointing out that unofficial artists in Czechoslovakia operated outside a market context, Morganová is also keen to stress the degree to which Czech action art was a form of self-expression that was independent of both political and market forces. She notes that action art's 'unique authenticity and genuineness' was profoundly connected to the fact that for most Czech artists it could only ever be practiced as 'a kind of hobby usually done in their spare time, outside art institutions, at their own expense', (p. 44) Given that 'totalitarianism' is central to her main thesis, it is perhaps surprising that the first photographic illustration included shows the demolition of the Stalin monument in Prague on 28 October 1962 (the second shows a Fluxus Festival in Prague of 1966). As becomes clear from the narrative that follows, experimental artistic trends flourished and even achieved a degree of risky visibility in the public space in the mid-1960s; while relatively short-lived, such possibilities surely marked the distance that had been travelled since the peak of Stalinist terror. Morganovas focus is arguably on this later period, post-1969, when reformist Alexander Dubček was replaced by Gustav Husák as First Secretary and, according to a Czech saying recounted by Morganová, 'socialism with a human face' became 'socialism with goose-bumps'. Morganová refers to the 1970s as a period in which 'Czech society learnt to live in a collective schizophrenia between the private and public', with anyone voicing their opposition finding themselves persecuted, 'oflen imprisoned or driven to emigrate or even commit suicide'. And it was in this context that artists withdrew, she writes, into 'the privacy and security of small circles of friends where one could live with mutual trust', (pp. 24-25) Although the political picture she paints is bleak, and the term totalitarianism might, I think, have been used more sparingly, or, better, replaced by Václav Havel's concept of post-totalitarianism, Morganová's account of the art of the period is both sensitive and upbeat, and full of the sorts of intriguing details that can only by gleaned from extensive interviews with participants.
The book is organised around three main themes: the everyday, the return to nature - and the experience of the body. The narrative opens in the period of relative freedom when international trends began to be reflected in the Czech context: 1964-1968 saw exhibitions of Duchamp, Yves Klein, and Gutai and a visit from John Cage, among others. The pioneer of this early stage was Milan Knížák - the long-haired leader of the proto-punk group Aktual Art. Morganová writes that when he was invited to become the Head of Fluxus East, a role he interpreted as being to 'promote Fluxus by all means possible', the possibilities in totalitarian Czechoslovakia were limited, though he wrote FLUXUS on his window, (p. 55) This minimal gesture contrasts with the scale of the ambition of some of the group's iconic happenings at this time, such as A Walk Around the New World: A Demonstration for all the Senses of 1964, in which participants were exposed to unusual experiences over the course of a two-week period. Morganová introduces the story of the early Prague Fluxus concerts and their repercussions, of Knížák's stay in New York in the late, 1960s and his formation of an alternative community in the town of Mariánské Lázně when he returned in the early 1970s. (p. 76) She cites Chalupecky's delight at the simple pleasures of taking part in some of the early manifestations, in which, for instance, invitees were encouraged to pelt one another with paper balls: 'it freed people from their learned way of life and led them to different levels of awareness, to forgotten possibilities of existence. We played'. In addition to the sense of personal liberation invoked here, Morganová notes the formation of the 'magical quality of the community' that was intensified by such experiences, (p. 63).
Other collective actions explored in this section include those by Eugen Brikcius and the group called the Order of Crusaders for Pure Humour without Banter, whose activities included the photographic documentation of monthly beer-drinking sessions at a pub called U Svitáků in central Prague. Zorka Ságlovás collective actions, such as Throwing Balls into Borin Pond in Průhonice, yield memorable photographs and a sense of the enthusiasm for transforming artistic activity into a genuinely participatory experience at that time. We are also initiated top secret organisations such as B.K.S. (The End of the World is Coming) - a closed ritualistic group formed in 1974 - and another group, K.Q.N., (whose acronym was randomly selected). These groups were among a surprising number whose primary aim was to organise events of a participatory nature for a small circle of friends in remote locations in the countryside. Given the degree to which Moscow group Collective Actions have become a household name, one cannot help feeling a sense of satisfaction upon reading that concrete poet Jiří Valoch had already pointed out in 1971 that 'with a white snowy field before one's eyes / one cannot help think of malevich fontana manzoni klein uecker'. Morganová explains the phenomenon as propelled by the drive 'to experience natural events and a free space untouched by the politics of the day', (p. 91) In line with her main thesis, she argues that projects such as Sonny Halas's Neolithic Painting, in which some forty people gathered in a former silver mine to produce their own neolithic offerings (April 1974), 'helped create the much needed space for personal freedom in the highly organized and supervised totalitarian public sphere'. (p. 101) Jan Steklik's Airport for Clouds, 1970, is another case in point: a group of friends and their children used some found rolls of packaging paper to transform a meadow into a field full of clouds. Citing a conversation with the artist, Morganová recounts that these were 'a symbol of freedom, since during the totalitarian years they were able to effortlessly cross the Iron Curtain, requiring no passports or travel documents, which most Czech artists could only dream of. (p. 109) She introduces the poetic figure of Miloš Šejn, whose early actions were attempts to be at one with nature - photographed lying face down in autumnal leaves, apparently just to feel the experience; and Marian Palla, who announced, among others, The World has changed. I switched the positions of two stones in a field on October 31, 1983. (p. 128) Morganová points out the pervasive fascination with Eastern traditions among alternative artists, noting that Pallas actions, such as I Sit and Hold a Rock, were a form of meditation, 'a contemplation of the most basic aspects of creation and existence', (p. 143) She asks, rhetorically: 'the question remains of how many of these actions would have been created if the artists had the chance to openly exhibit in galleries', (p. 151) For Petr Štembera, the situation was clear-cut. Morganová cites him: 'If not for the hideous atmosphere here in the 1970s, hardly any action art would have been created, and certainly not in the form that it took'.
The same thread carries through into the third chapter, devoted to artists concerned with the body, though Morganová warns of the dangers of interpretation when it comes to artists such as Karel Miler as 'one of the goals of the artist's actions is for there to be no symbolic interpretations, for the actions not to mean anything'. This is also related to the interest in Zen philosophies, she notes. As Miler wrote in 1973: A pure fact is as significant as the universe'. As regards extreme forms of body art that test the limits of pain and danger, Morganová rightly notes that these 'authentic expressions' should not necessarily be interpreted as relating solely to the particularities of the Czech political context. Gina Pane and other Western artists were pursuing the same themes. This is an interesting point, for it would seem to me to problematise the logic of the argument, threading through the narrative as a whole, concerning the difference and uniqueness of the situation; I think it is a line worth pursuing further today, as we seek to find greater critical independence from our interviewees. Referring to an action in which he shot a poisoned arrow at a wall, dressed in a Nazi shirt, Morganová notes that for Štembera 'the Nazi shirt is for the artist a symbol of communism since all totalitarian regimes are one and the same in his view', (p. 170) Here, and elsewhere, Morganová might perhaps have done more to specifically challenge such opinions, to contextualise them in relation to specific historical events, or to distinguish more consistently between the different phases of the Czechoslovak communist experience. Havel's writings feature very usefully in the preface, and I would have been keen to encounter more theoretical components in the body of the text, drawing on the wealth of relevant writings by contemporary authors and key Czech intellectuals of the era such as Jan Patočka or Václav Benda.
Jan Mlčoch is the author of some of the most politically overt of the actions that Morganová discusses. I was thrilled by Zig-Zag-Wiggle-Waggle, of 1975, in which he 'smuggled into Hungary a handful of earthworms in a bandage full of dirt', (p. 178) Morganová cites an interview in which Mlčoch explains that 'The rulers were criminals and the individuals that violated the laws declared by these criminals were actually virtuous people. He is clearly echoing Havel's excellent analysis of the trial of the alternative musicians in 1976, in which he arrives at the same conclusions. Mlcoch's Bianco (1977) was a reactions to the issues around signing Charter 77: 'I lay down on the floor of a small basement room and spat into my own face for 30 minutes. Then I sat at a little writing table where I wrote my signature very slowly on a piece of white paper. I stopped after 30 minutes without finishing my signature.' Interestingly, Morganová notes that it was the signing of Charter 77 that was in part responsible for the disintegration of the Prague community of action artists - friends who had often gathered in the preceding years to watch performances out of hours at the Museum of Decorative Arts where Štembera was employed as a night watchman. The raising of the political stakes highlighted for artists the awkwardness of artificially risky actions in connection with the real threat faced by Charter 77 signatories', (p. 173) The decision whether to sign or not to sign was existential: 'by signing, a person condemned himself and his family to being deprived of the chance to work in his or her profession and to further persecution, (p. 180) One justification for not signing used by some was that 'in signing the Charter 77, the signatories politicized themselves and became "dissidents", thereby dooming their chances of publicly presenting their art or working in their professions, which the non-signatories could continue to attack the boundary of the official culture from non-official positions', (p. 28)
Many artists left Czechoslovakia in the 1980s. Morganová tells the story of a poignant action by Pavel Büchler, carried out shortly before he emigrated to the UK, alluding to the hopelessness of the situation in which no one imagined that the end of the political status quo was almost in sight. Linden Tree, or My Country (as the Linden is the Czech national tree) consisted in stripping a small tree on the banks of the Vltava of all its foliage in the early hours of the morning, (p. 201).
Morganová s epilogue sketches out in brief some of the transformations and developments in Czech action-based art after 1989. As society gradually became acclimatised to liberalism, democracy and multiculturalism, as well as to gender, environmental and other global themes', she writes, 'the structure of how culture was run and the mechanisms behind its financing and decision-making also changed at a hectic pace', (p. 219) She argues that 'those artists continuing in their work often did not realize that post-revolutionary freedom brought about the loss of the action's greatest power - to behave freely in a restricted society'. As a result of two, she says, in the 1990s, 'few works achieved the intensity of the pre-revolutionary period', (p. 220) Despite this evident nostalgia for the authenticity of normalisation era action art, the author nevertheless singles out a few exceptions to this rule. These include Kateřina Šedá's action There's Nothing There in the village Ponětovice, in which the young artist persuaded the community to follow the same schedule collectively for one Saturday in 2003, proving that 'something big can happen in a small town - it sufficesjust to do things together' (p. 231), and the group Rafani's re-enactment of Mlčoch's Bianco action in 2005. In general, though, she considers the newer work that has emerged since 1989 to be of a fundamentally different nature: 'The primary ambition of Czech action artists was not to shift the border of art, but to transform reality through art... They were part of the bizarre world of totalitarianism, and took refuge in the world of art as a space of illusionary freedom.... The main objective
was the possibility of free expression, which, for the neo-avant--garde of the West, was an absolute given. Even ordinary fun and games as a free activity had, in a society fettered with mandatory work duties and totalitarian stipulations for how free time was to be spent, a liberating effect and a completely different meaning than in the West.' (p. 234) Radical Western counterparts would surely protest at a characterisation of their freedom of expression as an absolute given, though life for artists was undoubtedly different either side of the Iron Curtain in many respects. Nevertheless, to claim that the idea that absolute freedom of expression existed in the West in this or any other period is undoubtedly illusory (we might note the censorship by the Guggenheim Museum of Hans Haacke's Shapolsky et al. Manhattan Real Estate Holdings, a Real-Time Social System, as of May 1,1971 (1971); the marginalisation of women's voices; the on-going under-representation of black artists in museum collections and displays). Likewise, the tyranny of work in the late capitalist world, as characterised by the ethos of the zero hours contract, is still securely in place, albeit in new forms, as is the system's ambition to order and to profit from all waking hours, leisure time included, by diverting all activity into potentially profitable channels.
Morganová concludes that only today, a quarter of a century after the end of communist rule, is it possible to dispassionately distinguish between the meanings, functions, values of both the official and the unofficial culture, which paradoxically possessed a symbiotic relationship, prior to 1989'. (p. 235) But this book unapologetically focuses solely on the latter, with no reference to the former, official culture. This seems symptomatic of a certain degree of inherited trauma and might mire in complexities the claim that this is a dispassionate text. Far from it, this is a passionate and powerful interpretation of action art as a gesture of self-defence in totalitarian conditions. It is a compelling story, and one with many enchanting protagonists, but it is not the only story. 'All new trends in art naturally move from revolt towards institutionalization ... There is therefore nothing left for art history to do but to attempt to deal with this phenomenon as comprehensively as possible', Morganová writes. While this offhand observation does not do justice to what it is that Morganová accomplishes in her book, it does signal one of its key potentialities. For the process of historicisation is still too clearly linked to institutionalisation in the global field; both are far from natural or inevitable. On the contrary, without art historians and curators to produce and to record stories such as those gathered so skilfully in this volume, these histories will not be recorded for posterity.
What this book achieves, above all, is a comprehensive overview of a scene whose internationally acclaimed participants still remain far too few. It is a richly illustrated study offering a unique survey of developments in experimental art in the Czech part of Czechoslovakia. Morganová argues that while the two halves of Czechoslovakia were politically united in the period under consideration, the Czech and Slovak cultural scenes 'did not develop as a whole during the years as a single country', (p. 18) Furthermore, she notes that there has been a trend in both nations 'to write increasingly separate versions of their cultural history' since the breakup of Czechoslovakia in 1993. Her own narrative proves no exception to this rule. That Morganová avoids making any links or cross references to developments in the Slovak part of the federation perpetuates rather than challenges the Czech / Slovak divide. With the benefit of hindsight, however, we might now begin to seek, once more to emphasise commonalities and the sense of participation in a shared international project among action-based artists. Czech Action Art: Happenings, Actions, Events, Land Art, Body Art and Performance Art Behind the Iron Curtain delivers, very skilfully, what it promises; it draws on the experiences of protagonists to piece together art histories that were confined to personal archives and known, for the most part, only by the participants themselves, until Morganová undertook her research in the 1990s.
Klara Kemp-Welch, časopis Umění/Art, č. 5/2015, str. 417-420
A rich introduction sets up the context for the development of Action Art in the Czech lands, providing an overview of the socio-political context that was integral to the development of the genre. Morganova also addressed the difficulties that come with researching and writing on the topic, mainly with regard to documentation, as many of these works of art were not made with an awareness that they would eventually become historically important. The author's explanation is necessary to understand the methods that she used to create the first written history of Czech Action Art, relying heavily on original interviews with the artists and access to their personal archives. Finally, she discusses the likely sources for and pre-history of Action Art in Czechoslovakia, which was decidedly different from that of action and performance art in the West, namely in its absence of Dadaist and Futurist traditions.
Following the introduction, Morganova divided the text into three distinct sections, based on common themes that she observed in her research: action art relating to the everyday; land-based action art; and that which deals with the body. This division is helpful to understanding the varying manifestations of action art in the Czech lands. The author acknowledges that these categories are fluid, and throughout the text cross-references with other chapters when the work of one artist fits into more than one category.
The text strikes a good balance between historical contextualization and art historical analysis, and a number of artists and artworks are addressed. To the author's credit, this thorough coverage is not done at the expense of in depth analysis; none of the artists are glossed over and each is given a full discussion and analysis. Of particular interest is the second chapter, which focuses on Czech Action Art that is based on nature and the land. This is a unique strand of performance and action art that truly sets the Czech variant of the genre apart from other manifestations of it, and underscores the Czechs' unique contribution to the genre.
Chapters one and three will be of particular interest to those who are familiar with some of the internationally renowned figures of Czech Action Art, for example, Milan Knizak (who plays a prominent role in chapter one), and the Czech Body Art "troika," Petr Stembera, Karel Miler and Jan Mlčoch, who are featured in chapter three.
Finally, a substantial epilogue brings the reader up to date with what is happening currently in the genre of Action Art in the Czech Republic since the end of communism. This chapter is important, as it discusses the post-communist period, and demonstrates how Action Art continues to be a necessary and relevant genre to artists, despite the new freedoms that democracy brought with it. Together with the introduction, which offers the pre-history, it functions as a nice bookend to the main story of body and action art during the communist period.
This book has many strengths: it is written on the basis of several years of dedicated research to the subject, and informed by extensive interviews with the artists and access to of their personal archives. Next, it contains a rich bibliography of both Czech and international publications, which places it in dialogue with global art history. In its comprehensive treatment, it introduces the rest of the world to a number of unique and fascinating Czech Action artists. Furthermore, with more than 200 illustrations, many of which have never appeared in international publications, it provides a vivid picture of the Czech performance art scene. Given that there is currently a growing interest in the fields of performance, action and body art, particularly in Central and Eastern Europe, the timing of this publication could not be better. I am convinced that this book will be well-awaited and eagerly devoured by art historians throughout the world, as well as by those with an interest in the particular socio-political context in this part of Central and Eastern Europe.
Z recenzního posudku: Amy Bryzgel
Czech Action Art: Happenings, Actions, Events, Land Art, Body Art and Performance Art Behind the Iron Curtain is an invaluable guide to the uninitiated reader as well as providing ample rewards for readers already familiar with the field, for Morganová does not restrict her attention to the best known artists, but casts her net widely, introducing the activities and actions of a great many interesting figures who have yet to be recognised internationally. The overarching thesis of Morganová s study is that Action Art had a particular meaning under the conditions of totalitarianism to which she refers throughout the book. In this respect, her argument is a successor of the writings of Jindřich Chalupecký (1910-1990), probably the most important Czech art critic of the period with which the book is concerned. Reflecting on his experience of living and working in Prague, Chalupecký reflected that Art lived in catacombs here in the 1950s and 60s, and therefore had a character and meaning that is distinct from that in the West.... The different conditions gave rise here to a different art, which is why it cannot continue in the same direction that international art is developing. Modern art has become a business affair there....' If Chalupecký was pointing out that unofficial artists in Czechoslovakia operated outside a market context, Morganová is also keen to stress the degree to which Czech action art was a form of self-expression that was independent of both political and market forces. She notes that action art's 'unique authenticity and genuineness' was profoundly connected to the fact that for most Czech artists it could only ever be practiced as 'a kind of hobby usually done in their spare time, outside art institutions, at their own expense', (p. 44) Given that 'totalitarianism' is central to her main thesis, it is perhaps surprising that the first photographic illustration included shows the demolition of the Stalin monument in Prague on 28 October 1962 (the second shows a Fluxus Festival in Prague of 1966). As becomes clear from the narrative that follows, experimental artistic trends flourished and even achieved a degree of risky visibility in the public space in the mid-1960s; while relatively short-lived, such possibilities surely marked the distance that had been travelled since the peak of Stalinist terror. Morganovas focus is arguably on this later period, post-1969, when reformist Alexander Dubček was replaced by Gustav Husák as First Secretary and, according to a Czech saying recounted by Morganová, 'socialism with a human face' became 'socialism with goose-bumps'. Morganová refers to the 1970s as a period in which 'Czech society learnt to live in a collective schizophrenia between the private and public', with anyone voicing their opposition finding themselves persecuted, 'oflen imprisoned or driven to emigrate or even commit suicide'. And it was in this context that artists withdrew, she writes, into 'the privacy and security of small circles of friends where one could live with mutual trust', (pp. 24-25) Although the political picture she paints is bleak, and the term totalitarianism might, I think, have been used more sparingly, or, better, replaced by Václav Havel's concept of post-totalitarianism, Morganová's account of the art of the period is both sensitive and upbeat, and full of the sorts of intriguing details that can only by gleaned from extensive interviews with participants.
The book is organised around three main themes: the everyday, the return to nature - and the experience of the body. The narrative opens in the period of relative freedom when international trends began to be reflected in the Czech context: 1964-1968 saw exhibitions of Duchamp, Yves Klein, and Gutai and a visit from John Cage, among others. The pioneer of this early stage was Milan Knížák - the long-haired leader of the proto-punk group Aktual Art. Morganová writes that when he was invited to become the Head of Fluxus East, a role he interpreted as being to 'promote Fluxus by all means possible', the possibilities in totalitarian Czechoslovakia were limited, though he wrote FLUXUS on his window, (p. 55) This minimal gesture contrasts with the scale of the ambition of some of the group's iconic happenings at this time, such as A Walk Around the New World: A Demonstration for all the Senses of 1964, in which participants were exposed to unusual experiences over the course of a two-week period. Morganová introduces the story of the early Prague Fluxus concerts and their repercussions, of Knížák's stay in New York in the late, 1960s and his formation of an alternative community in the town of Mariánské Lázně when he returned in the early 1970s. (p. 76) She cites Chalupecky's delight at the simple pleasures of taking part in some of the early manifestations, in which, for instance, invitees were encouraged to pelt one another with paper balls: 'it freed people from their learned way of life and led them to different levels of awareness, to forgotten possibilities of existence. We played'. In addition to the sense of personal liberation invoked here, Morganová notes the formation of the 'magical quality of the community' that was intensified by such experiences, (p. 63).
Other collective actions explored in this section include those by Eugen Brikcius and the group called the Order of Crusaders for Pure Humour without Banter, whose activities included the photographic documentation of monthly beer-drinking sessions at a pub called U Svitáků in central Prague. Zorka Ságlovás collective actions, such as Throwing Balls into Borin Pond in Průhonice, yield memorable photographs and a sense of the enthusiasm for transforming artistic activity into a genuinely participatory experience at that time. We are also initiated top secret organisations such as B.K.S. (The End of the World is Coming) - a closed ritualistic group formed in 1974 - and another group, K.Q.N., (whose acronym was randomly selected). These groups were among a surprising number whose primary aim was to organise events of a participatory nature for a small circle of friends in remote locations in the countryside. Given the degree to which Moscow group Collective Actions have become a household name, one cannot help feeling a sense of satisfaction upon reading that concrete poet Jiří Valoch had already pointed out in 1971 that 'with a white snowy field before one's eyes / one cannot help think of malevich fontana manzoni klein uecker'. Morganová explains the phenomenon as propelled by the drive 'to experience natural events and a free space untouched by the politics of the day', (p. 91) In line with her main thesis, she argues that projects such as Sonny Halas's Neolithic Painting, in which some forty people gathered in a former silver mine to produce their own neolithic offerings (April 1974), 'helped create the much needed space for personal freedom in the highly organized and supervised totalitarian public sphere'. (p. 101) Jan Steklik's Airport for Clouds, 1970, is another case in point: a group of friends and their children used some found rolls of packaging paper to transform a meadow into a field full of clouds. Citing a conversation with the artist, Morganová recounts that these were 'a symbol of freedom, since during the totalitarian years they were able to effortlessly cross the Iron Curtain, requiring no passports or travel documents, which most Czech artists could only dream of. (p. 109) She introduces the poetic figure of Miloš Šejn, whose early actions were attempts to be at one with nature - photographed lying face down in autumnal leaves, apparently just to feel the experience; and Marian Palla, who announced, among others, The World has changed. I switched the positions of two stones in a field on October 31, 1983. (p. 128) Morganová points out the pervasive fascination with Eastern traditions among alternative artists, noting that Pallas actions, such as I Sit and Hold a Rock, were a form of meditation, 'a contemplation of the most basic aspects of creation and existence', (p. 143) She asks, rhetorically: 'the question remains of how many of these actions would have been created if the artists had the chance to openly exhibit in galleries', (p. 151) For Petr Štembera, the situation was clear-cut. Morganová cites him: 'If not for the hideous atmosphere here in the 1970s, hardly any action art would have been created, and certainly not in the form that it took'.
The same thread carries through into the third chapter, devoted to artists concerned with the body, though Morganová warns of the dangers of interpretation when it comes to artists such as Karel Miler as 'one of the goals of the artist's actions is for there to be no symbolic interpretations, for the actions not to mean anything'. This is also related to the interest in Zen philosophies, she notes. As Miler wrote in 1973: A pure fact is as significant as the universe'. As regards extreme forms of body art that test the limits of pain and danger, Morganová rightly notes that these 'authentic expressions' should not necessarily be interpreted as relating solely to the particularities of the Czech political context. Gina Pane and other Western artists were pursuing the same themes. This is an interesting point, for it would seem to me to problematise the logic of the argument, threading through the narrative as a whole, concerning the difference and uniqueness of the situation; I think it is a line worth pursuing further today, as we seek to find greater critical independence from our interviewees. Referring to an action in which he shot a poisoned arrow at a wall, dressed in a Nazi shirt, Morganová notes that for Štembera 'the Nazi shirt is for the artist a symbol of communism since all totalitarian regimes are one and the same in his view', (p. 170) Here, and elsewhere, Morganová might perhaps have done more to specifically challenge such opinions, to contextualise them in relation to specific historical events, or to distinguish more consistently between the different phases of the Czechoslovak communist experience. Havel's writings feature very usefully in the preface, and I would have been keen to encounter more theoretical components in the body of the text, drawing on the wealth of relevant writings by contemporary authors and key Czech intellectuals of the era such as Jan Patočka or Václav Benda.
Jan Mlčoch is the author of some of the most politically overt of the actions that Morganová discusses. I was thrilled by Zig-Zag-Wiggle-Waggle, of 1975, in which he 'smuggled into Hungary a handful of earthworms in a bandage full of dirt', (p. 178) Morganová cites an interview in which Mlčoch explains that 'The rulers were criminals and the individuals that violated the laws declared by these criminals were actually virtuous people. He is clearly echoing Havel's excellent analysis of the trial of the alternative musicians in 1976, in which he arrives at the same conclusions. Mlcoch's Bianco (1977) was a reactions to the issues around signing Charter 77: 'I lay down on the floor of a small basement room and spat into my own face for 30 minutes. Then I sat at a little writing table where I wrote my signature very slowly on a piece of white paper. I stopped after 30 minutes without finishing my signature.' Interestingly, Morganová notes that it was the signing of Charter 77 that was in part responsible for the disintegration of the Prague community of action artists - friends who had often gathered in the preceding years to watch performances out of hours at the Museum of Decorative Arts where Štembera was employed as a night watchman. The raising of the political stakes highlighted for artists the awkwardness of artificially risky actions in connection with the real threat faced by Charter 77 signatories', (p. 173) The decision whether to sign or not to sign was existential: 'by signing, a person condemned himself and his family to being deprived of the chance to work in his or her profession and to further persecution, (p. 180) One justification for not signing used by some was that 'in signing the Charter 77, the signatories politicized themselves and became "dissidents", thereby dooming their chances of publicly presenting their art or working in their professions, which the non-signatories could continue to attack the boundary of the official culture from non-official positions', (p. 28)
Many artists left Czechoslovakia in the 1980s. Morganová tells the story of a poignant action by Pavel Büchler, carried out shortly before he emigrated to the UK, alluding to the hopelessness of the situation in which no one imagined that the end of the political status quo was almost in sight. Linden Tree, or My Country (as the Linden is the Czech national tree) consisted in stripping a small tree on the banks of the Vltava of all its foliage in the early hours of the morning, (p. 201).
Morganová s epilogue sketches out in brief some of the transformations and developments in Czech action-based art after 1989. As society gradually became acclimatised to liberalism, democracy and multiculturalism, as well as to gender, environmental and other global themes', she writes, 'the structure of how culture was run and the mechanisms behind its financing and decision-making also changed at a hectic pace', (p. 219) She argues that 'those artists continuing in their work often did not realize that post-revolutionary freedom brought about the loss of the action's greatest power - to behave freely in a restricted society'. As a result of two, she says, in the 1990s, 'few works achieved the intensity of the pre-revolutionary period', (p. 220) Despite this evident nostalgia for the authenticity of normalisation era action art, the author nevertheless singles out a few exceptions to this rule. These include Kateřina Šedá's action There's Nothing There in the village Ponětovice, in which the young artist persuaded the community to follow the same schedule collectively for one Saturday in 2003, proving that 'something big can happen in a small town - it sufficesjust to do things together' (p. 231), and the group Rafani's re-enactment of Mlčoch's Bianco action in 2005. In general, though, she considers the newer work that has emerged since 1989 to be of a fundamentally different nature: 'The primary ambition of Czech action artists was not to shift the border of art, but to transform reality through art... They were part of the bizarre world of totalitarianism, and took refuge in the world of art as a space of illusionary freedom.... The main objective
was the possibility of free expression, which, for the neo-avant--garde of the West, was an absolute given. Even ordinary fun and games as a free activity had, in a society fettered with mandatory work duties and totalitarian stipulations for how free time was to be spent, a liberating effect and a completely different meaning than in the West.' (p. 234) Radical Western counterparts would surely protest at a characterisation of their freedom of expression as an absolute given, though life for artists was undoubtedly different either side of the Iron Curtain in many respects. Nevertheless, to claim that the idea that absolute freedom of expression existed in the West in this or any other period is undoubtedly illusory (we might note the censorship by the Guggenheim Museum of Hans Haacke's Shapolsky et al. Manhattan Real Estate Holdings, a Real-Time Social System, as of May 1,1971 (1971); the marginalisation of women's voices; the on-going under-representation of black artists in museum collections and displays). Likewise, the tyranny of work in the late capitalist world, as characterised by the ethos of the zero hours contract, is still securely in place, albeit in new forms, as is the system's ambition to order and to profit from all waking hours, leisure time included, by diverting all activity into potentially profitable channels.
Morganová concludes that only today, a quarter of a century after the end of communist rule, is it possible to dispassionately distinguish between the meanings, functions, values of both the official and the unofficial culture, which paradoxically possessed a symbiotic relationship, prior to 1989'. (p. 235) But this book unapologetically focuses solely on the latter, with no reference to the former, official culture. This seems symptomatic of a certain degree of inherited trauma and might mire in complexities the claim that this is a dispassionate text. Far from it, this is a passionate and powerful interpretation of action art as a gesture of self-defence in totalitarian conditions. It is a compelling story, and one with many enchanting protagonists, but it is not the only story. 'All new trends in art naturally move from revolt towards institutionalization ... There is therefore nothing left for art history to do but to attempt to deal with this phenomenon as comprehensively as possible', Morganová writes. While this offhand observation does not do justice to what it is that Morganová accomplishes in her book, it does signal one of its key potentialities. For the process of historicisation is still too clearly linked to institutionalisation in the global field; both are far from natural or inevitable. On the contrary, without art historians and curators to produce and to record stories such as those gathered so skilfully in this volume, these histories will not be recorded for posterity.
What this book achieves, above all, is a comprehensive overview of a scene whose internationally acclaimed participants still remain far too few. It is a richly illustrated study offering a unique survey of developments in experimental art in the Czech part of Czechoslovakia. Morganová argues that while the two halves of Czechoslovakia were politically united in the period under consideration, the Czech and Slovak cultural scenes 'did not develop as a whole during the years as a single country', (p. 18) Furthermore, she notes that there has been a trend in both nations 'to write increasingly separate versions of their cultural history' since the breakup of Czechoslovakia in 1993. Her own narrative proves no exception to this rule. That Morganová avoids making any links or cross references to developments in the Slovak part of the federation perpetuates rather than challenges the Czech / Slovak divide. With the benefit of hindsight, however, we might now begin to seek, once more to emphasise commonalities and the sense of participation in a shared international project among action-based artists. Czech Action Art: Happenings, Actions, Events, Land Art, Body Art and Performance Art Behind the Iron Curtain delivers, very skilfully, what it promises; it draws on the experiences of protagonists to piece together art histories that were confined to personal archives and known, for the most part, only by the participants themselves, until Morganová undertook her research in the 1990s.
Klara Kemp-Welch, časopis Umění/Art, č. 5/2015, str. 417-420