This essay was written for an assignment in my third year of History of Art. The idea was to find an image in an online archive and then curate it in an exhibition space. This was a small exhibition that took place in our classroom.
Introduction
The process of bringing an archived document into an exhibition space is challenging, particularly in relation to Achille Mbembe’s articulation of the archive as an entity that serves to collect histories. Mbembe claims that the manner in which the archive is accessible in the present day serves as linking the past to the present (2002: 19). However, the archive protects mere snippets of history – it does not preserve a nation’s entire past. The particular case study in this essay is a photograph of Miriam Makeba sourced from the Baileys African History Archive in the sub-collection “Drum Social Histories”. With particular focus on the narrative created when crafting a link between the past and the present, I explore the complex process of depicting the narrative of an archived document in an exhibition space. Additionally, it was quintessential to establish a manner in which to do so without muting the voice that belongs to the archived document – Makeba’s voice. This is due to the manner in which I approached the medium of photography as a visual language that resists homogenizing a single narrative for the photograph (Lister 1995: 93). For this aspect of my research, I approached the archived document from the position of photography establishing/subverting symbolic forms, particularly in the context of the archive – in terms of archivability and relation to the state. The curated document engages with the symbolic forms of the photograph and contests the manner in which the audience privileges sight by utilizing a visual and audio landscape. Such a process intends to create multiple “illusions of totality” in which the viewers of the exhibition create their own narratives, based off various elements of the display, including the photograph and Makeba’s song Pata Pata. This conclusion accurately reflects Mbembe’s articulation of the archive as preserving history, whereby the curator is a producer of knowledge.
Case Study
The image of Miriam Makeba (Figure A) was taken by an unrecorded photographer for DRUM magazine in May 1960 and depicts Makeba rehearsing with her all-women vocal group, The Skylarks. Gibson Kente is mentioned in the caption of the image, and while there is a mysterious figure in the background of the photograph, I could not find any definitive proof that this is Kente – and if not, who the figure is. Kente’s significance is quintessential and magnified in that both he and Makeba used their art as weapons against the inhumane apartheid regime. Miriam Makeba is world-renowned for “the unique sounds of Africa” that she brought to other continents following the cancellation of her passport by the apartheid government (South Africa Online, 2018), and this, as well as her dedication to activism for civil rights, earned her the grand title of Mama Africa. The image’s caption elaborates that the photograph was taken before Makeba was dubbed Mama Africa. At the time of this photograph being taken, Makeba had starred in the South African musical King Kong alongside Kente in 1959 (Magogodi, 2018). In that same year, she and The Skylarks recorded the original version of Pata Pata. Both instances were pivotal moments in her career.
From the Archive to the Exhibition
Mbembe defines the term ‘archive’ in two similar manners. As a “public institution,” (2002: 19), the archive has a physical address and a tangible structure, and acts as storage for various documents that are typically text-based (ibid.). However, there is no single definition of the term that encompasses both the building and the specific collection of documents within, yet the dynamic between documents that are archived, and the architectural dimension in which they are stored, which encompasses the building and the set of rituals by which such documents are organized, is the place from which the archive gains its significance (Mbembe, ibid.). In the context of Achille Mbembe’s articulation of the manner in which the archive links the past to the present so as to preserve memory (2002: 22), the process erects an “imaginary status”, in which the role of the archive is to reassemble the debris of lost histories. Doing so explores the power of the archive as an instituting imaginary that serves as a manner of recalling (Mbembe, ibid.). This proposes that through archived documents, time can be pieced together as fragments are recovered, thus providing the illusion of totality, suggesting a clear, easily justifiable narrative. However, no archive can record the entire history of a society – it only serves to present fragmentations that that need to be placed in order so as to coherently craft links between the past and the present.
The role of the archive is essential to this photograph of Miriam Makeba when considering the aforementioned conventions of the archive, as well as the visual properties of the document itself. As a photograph, it is “systematically embedded in many more social procedures as a form of knowledge,” (Lister 1995: 93). Such a claim relates to the manner in which images construct knowledge and power as they are used in everyday contexts, such as road signs and information websites. This is due to the manner in which power manifests through the cultural production of symbolic forms – in this particular case, it relates to the documents that are archived and who has access to them. The structural conception of culture revolves around symbolic forms in in systematized contexts, and the further social contextualization of such symbolic forms (Thompson, 1990: 359).
In further exploring Mbembe’s claim of linking the past with the present, is important to acknowledge that the manner in which we read visual texts such as this have begun “to empty out the connection between old symbolic forms and image contents,” (Lister ibid.). Viewing symbolic forms in relation to the structured social contexts in which they are produced and received, the structural conception of culture provides a basis upon which we can think about the development of pop culture. Stuart Hall (1990: 132) further comments on culture as an entity that “is not a fixed essence at all, lying unchanged outside history and culture. It is not some universal and transcendental spirit inside us on which history has made no fundamental mark. It is not once-and-for-all. It is not a fixed origin to which we can make some final and absolute Return.” As such, Hall states that our cultural identities reflect the common historical experiences and shared cultural codes which meaningfully provide us, as ‘one people’, with stable, unchanging, continuous frames of reference, beneath the shifting divisions and vicissitudes of our actual history. It belongs to the future as much as to the past. It is not something which already exists, transcending place, time, history and culture. Cultural identities come from somewhere, have histories. But like everything which is historical, they undergo constant transformation (Hall, 1990: ibid.). With this description in mind, the archive as the instituting imaginary once again becomes quintessential, as the “illusion of totality” is crafted based on what is stored in the archive – ie, what is culturally relevant. Edward Said further claims “…the enterprise of empire depends on the idea of having an empire, … and all kinds of preparations are made for it within culture; then in turn imperialism acquires a kind of coherence, a set of experiences, and presence of ruler and ruled alike within the culture” (1993: 10). From such a description, it is evident that the archived documents thus have the power to produce culture, and, by implication, dictate power dynamics. This then leads to the creation of my archived document in the exhibition space. I am not seeking to re-immerse such symbolic forms into contemporary culture, but rather establishing a contemporary space where culture itself appears as visibly scattered and disconnected from the institutional rules and economic conditions that support symbolic forms (Lister ibid.).
Through curating this archived photograph, I aimed to construct a narrative between the past and the present. However, such a process becomes complex when considering how subjective ones’ voice may be. As the curator and the archivist, I must acknowledge that my own voice will inevitably be present in the exhibit. Still, I want to delve into how I can engage the viewers to add their own narratives to the documents that they see. Curating is a notion that deserves immense analysis due to the manner in which it both exhibits art and serves as a manner of knowledge production. Megan Johnston looks at the position of curators in the dynamic discourse of knowledge production between the artists and audiences (2014: 23). Johnston ponders whether curators become knowledge producers “In our quest for knowing more, feeling more deeply, responding more relevantly,” (2014: 23). Johnston further analyses a notion dubbed “socially engaged curatorial practice”, in which she refers to a dynamic “production, distribution, and consumption of art through multiple platforms with an emphasis on process and connecting with audiences,” (2014: 24). This process prioritizes the curator’s role in the understanding of an exhibited artwork, “as well as innovative methods and approaches to mediation—which is often from the inception of a project to production and presentation,” (Johnston: ibid.). For my practice, the most pertinent part of socially engaged curating is the manner in which it highlights the experience of viewing an artwork. Doing so requires an attempt “to activate the space between object and audiences,” (Johnston 2014: 24). Linking this back to the contestation of symbolic forms, the ‘language’ produced by “activating the space” creates renewed semiotics. The image will be viewed as an object as opposed to a single picture, enabling the audience to produce “visual narratives, sequences, dream-work drifts,” (Lister 1995: 93).
The Portrait, the Subject and the Viewer
Drum Magazine’s use of photography was an especially important component of their success, due to the manner in which it served as an “accessible and 'realistic' means with which to document protest action, and appeal to a largely illiterate readership,” (South African History Online 2016). It is imperative to acknowledge the source of the photograph, as well as its subject, so as to divulge Gayatri Spivak’s argument of speaking on behalf of the subaltern. Spivak fears that those aiming to do so are limited in that they do so with hegemonic concepts and diction (Spivak, 1990: 70), thus they are merely speaking to themselves within their own discourse. This is made more prevalent when analysing the subject of the portrait – Makeba – as “the vital relationship between the portrait and its object of representation directly reflects the social dimension of human life as a field of action among persons, with its own repertoire of signals and messages,” (Brilliant 2004: 8).
This photograph does not simply render an exact reduplication – its construction is complex and is affected by the relationships between the artist, sitter and viewer. It is focused specifically on Miriam Makeba, standing in for her, thus making it a site for human interaction. It is an artwork and a referent, connected to notions of memory, status, ownership, personality. The portrait encapsulates individuality of artist and subject, asserting uniqueness of the individual while still assumed to have some recognizable likeness. This recognizable likeness has caused academics to refer to photography as “universal language” (Lister ibid.), yet the objectivity of any likeness is questionable due to the manner in which an individual’s subjective presence, history and expectation may alter the manner in which they understand a photograph. Furthermore, the medium of photography often invokes speculation, particularly in photographs taken during the apartheid regime. This particularly problematic nature of photography in the gallery space, is that such works tend to fall prey to “colonial academics” (Spivak, ibid.), in which the personal association with an artwork is lost due to the manner in which it is perceived in contrast to a historical backdrop. A narrative is thus added to the image that does not fit with the work’s intent, thus causing the subaltern to lose their voice entirely.
A solution to this problem is to work with idea of installation instead of just framing an image and leaving it on a wall, thus forcing viewers to engage with it as a physical document. Susan Sontag’s On Photography claims that photographs can be read as texts due to the visual language that they produce (Sontag, 1973: 83). Photographs condition us to think about the world and impose standards on subjects, and our fundamental understanding of the world is based on the assumptions we make at first glance. Sontag further claims that all possibility of understanding is rooted in the ability to say no. She claims that understanding is the opposite of acceptance (Sontag, 1973: 92).
A New Language
This notion of contesting modes of communication furthers the idea of the “illusion of totality” as it is quintessential in a postcolonial South Africa, particularly due to the manner in which language is at the centre of multiple debates surrounding a contemporary identity. Chinua Achebe eloquently summarizes such a debate: “It is right that a man should abandon his mother tongue for someone else's? It looks like a dreadful betrayal and produces a guilty feeling. But for me there is no other choice. I have been given the language and I intend to use it,” (Wa Thiong'o, 1986, 7). This particular statement refers to postcolonial theatre practitioners imagining performance techniques in a post-apartheid state, contemplating whether to use African or Europhonic languages. The initial solution to such a problem was to craft “a linguistic practice highly sensitive to the context of speech acts, able to shift add-mixtures of language according to situational needs or the effects desired,” (De Katzew, 2004: 2). Such a concept incorporates various rhetorical strategies which may utilize two languages so that they are put into a state of tension, producing a third inter possibility.
During this process, dubbed “inter lingualism”, the lexicons of either an African language or English are manipulated so that one of the languages serves as the matrix language into which another language is inscribed. Such is the case for Miriam Makeba’s Pata Pata – the song I have incorporated into my exhibition. The title, Pata Pata, is Xhosa for "touch touch”. Makeba reconfigures language by way of producing new expressions and new syntactical constructions that mix both languages. English is celebrated in the song, but, it is challenged and resisted phonetically, morphologically and lexically (Zabus, 1991: 224). These two languages (Xhosa and English) are put into a state of creative tension that produces ambiguity, ambivalence and indecisiveness, creating a space between both languages that is neither one nor the other. In this way, one language acts as a matrix to another, in which the manner of tone, rhythm, pitch and repetition transcends the language that is being used. I have reconstructed this notion so that it can be reapplied to in the context of visual language, by which the photograph is deployed as a matrix to ‘languages’ created by engaging with other senses.
To draw on both previously mentioned points – inter lingualism and the notion of constructing narratives – I would like to refer to the dynamic which takes place in the context of expanding and conflicting theatre/performance practices which de-valorized the manner in which drama was primarily focused on a script/plot and prioritized the actor/audience relationship. The prospect of the “Postdramatic” theatrical movement transcends the barriers between the mediums of Visual Art and Performing Art. Samuel Weber’s Theatricality as Medium (2004) proposes a reconceptualization of theatre and theatricality in the context of a dynamic and contesting debate surrounding the understanding of contemporary theatre in the west. To conduct his study, Weber critically evaluates contemporary 20th and 21st century theatre practitioners, whose work is classified as reactionary movements against elements of mainstream theatre practices of the time. Weber claims that theatre engages multiple senses and is "always involved much more than seeing". Such a claim highlights the manner in which the audience privileges sight above all other senses, and Weber’s redefinition of theatre attempts to subvert the priority of the sight in the space. Weber expands on this concept as he claims that theatre has "the same etymology as the term theory from the Greek word thea, designating a place from which to observe or see" (Weber, 2002: 3). Yet, almost paradoxically, within Postdramatic theatre there is Theatre of Images – a contemporary movement born of the need to find an alternative language to theatre that is based solely text-based. It is based on the premised that theatre “must be seen to be understood” (Weber, ibid.) Such a form of art relies on taking up space and time in order for the viewer to understand it fully. I think that Theatre of Images is necessary to acknowledge: despite seemingly contradicting Samuel Weber’s claim, as despite it rely strongly on bold, colourful tableaux images on stage, it transcends the conventions of art that presents a neatly wrapped version of events to the audience, and rather demands engagement and agency for viewers to form their own narratives.
It is undeniable that visual art and dramatic art have a history of intersecting, however my study does not focus on performance art. Rather, I would like to focus on the manner in which both forms of art transcend phonetic/lexical language. In particular, the postdramatic theatrical canon approaches this topic in a manner that appeals to my curatorial practise, as, unlike inter lingualism, the notion of language supersedes linguistics. This makes the medium more on par with the photograph of Makeba, as well as her song Pata Pata. In postdramatic theatre – and in Theatre of Images specifically, as this is my focal point – the text is viewed as a foreign body – it is there to interrupt the self-sufficient imagery of the stage (Lehmann, 2006: 146). It is thus merely audio “landscape” (Lehmann: ibid.), functioning as a montage of written and spoken words. Included in such a landscape are all sounds, voices, media, silence, and gestures, as all of these elements creates a scenic visual in the mind of the spectators. The term “polyglossia” is used to describe such an environment, in which many languages, views, and expressions are depicted simultaneously (Lehmann: ibid.), encouraging and interrupting preconceived understandings. A text is used for its sensory qualities rather than its direct meaning.
Conclusion
My curation of the archived document has thus prioritized audience engagement but finding a manner in which to present the image that bares all of the aforementioned information in mind is a challenge. Jason Farago of the New York Times writes about how technological advances of this kind have a tangible effect on the art world, noting that “These developments have inspired some museums to imagine new presentations beyond their walls,” (2017). The use of virtual reality within curated exhibitions function as a socially engaged curatorial practice as they create a dynamic didactic conversation, with artworks that “float in space,” (ibid.) Such a technology is one of many that has promised to uproot artistic conventions, but it is one of few to have kept to its word. Its intense tendency to augment reality in such a manner as to layer digital material atop the real world is exactly what I had in mind for my curated piece. I have intended to put the viewer inside the image (Figure C), alongside Makeba, while also having the song Pata Pata playing while the image is displayed. This will follow Tom Barnes’ statement that the visual cortex is active while listening to music (2015). In the context of Theatre of Images, I feel that this bares polyglossiac elements due to the manner in which the visual and the audio stimulate each other. The spectator is placed within the “audio landscape” (Lehmann: ibid.) stimulating agency so that the viewer may find their narrative. Furthermore, in playing Makeba’s song, I will not displace her voice, but instead add various interpretations and manners of engaging with it. I want to add to the image a visual rendering of the sound waves of the song. As a prominent voice against the Apartheid regime, I feel like the visual links will, following Achille Mbembe’s analysis of the archive, force viewers to link the past to the present.
Reading List
Miriam Makeba:
Archive:
Ideology and Culture:
Medium:
Curatorial:
Works Cited
Figure A. dm2004083018. (1960). Drum Social Histories in Baileys African Historical Archive. Retrieved 11 April 2018, from http://www.baha.co.za/search/preview/43_537.
Figure B. Aadama Passioon [Adam’s Passion]. (2015). Arvo Pärt and Robert Wilson. Noblessner Foundry, Tallinn, Estonia. Photograph: Kristian Kruuser/Kaupo Kikkas. Retrieved 24 May 2018 from http://www.robertwilson.com/adams-passion
Figure C. Adapted from [dm2004083018. (1960). Drum Social Histories in Baileys African Historical Archive. Retrieved 11 April 2018, from http://www.baha.co.za/search/preview/43_537]