Drawing Restraint, take 2: The Politics of Appropriation
I noticed a letter yesterday in the current issue of the SF Bay Guardian from a reader who took issue with “Drawing Restraint”, suggesting that audiences consider the implications of a white, American (not to mention male) artist using Japanese culture as a focal point of his art and pointing out that Matthew Barney is appropriating Japanese culture in doing so. I wanted to bring this up, firstly, to applaud this person for making such an observation; this series of Barney’s work can and should be considered from this viewpoint. But, after thinking about it, I also want to play devil’s advocate and point out a few problems with this accusation (and not just to play devil’s advocate, which I find annoying, but because I actually disagree with the point).
My first thought was, Shouldn’t we, in turn, applaud Barney for taking an interest in Japanese culture and customs and making them a part of his artistic subject matter, rather than simply ignoring the non-Western world, as so many stereotypical Americans tend to do? Also, the way in which he uses Japanese symbols and cultural elements is in the context of himself (and Bjork) as the Occidental Guests; there is a pretty large amount of humility attached to Barney’s “appropriation” of Japanese culture. I think this is one of the wisest choices he makes in this series: He places himself within the narrative, it seems, precisely so that he is not just appropriating a culture and pulling the omniscient strings from offstage. Instead, he places himself within the action, as with the Cremaster series, sothat we consider both Barney himself and the character he plays within the context of the world he has created in combination with the world he is appropriating.
I think “appropriating” is precisely the right word for what’s going on here. What Matthew Barney does is create mini-universes, which resemble ours in various ways, some obvious and some obscure, but are at the same time unquestionably unique. He creates and crafts these worlds down to the smallest minutiae, meticulously constructing every last detail. He’s a genius and a control freak. In the case of Drawing Restraint, he’s appropriated aspects of Japanese culture (which is rife with complex symbolism and ritual, Barney’s favorite meat) and weaved them into his own mythology.
I’m going to put myself right up on the chopping block and say that appropriation in art is not always a bad thing. Kara Walker appropriates and quotes Victorian silhouettes in her very popular cut-outs and no one takes issue with that. The difference, of course, is that in Walker’s case, she is a female, African American artist (typically marginalized) drawing from a part of Western, white culture, in part, to subvert it. Barney, on the other hand, is a white, Western artist working within the hegemonic sphere, drawing from a non-Western culture that has long been marginalized in the Western artistic cannon. And I think this is an important point to make about Barney’s work. However, I think it’s also valid to reiterate that it can also be seen as positive and productive that Barney, as a very popular, successful Western artist, is bringing aspects of Japanese culture into American sight lines. I think it’s also worth mentioning that the exhibition began in Japan (Tokyo?), and Barney spent a lot of time in Japan before and during the making of Drawing Restraint 9. It will be interesting to see how Barney writes about all of this in whatever catalogue accompanies the show.
I also had a response on a personal level, getting away from Matthew Barney. One of my major interests as a curator is creating exhibitions that focus on artistic practices in Asia and Latin America. But what does it mean for me, a white, privileged, American curator to “appropriate” Asian and Latin American art in exhibitions? Obviously, I could write a few novels on this, but I thought I should throw it out there. I’m actually reading an excellent essay on this exact topic right now, as part of my preliminary reading for grad school, so I’ll have to add to this discussion once I’ve waded through more of it.
My first thought was, Shouldn’t we, in turn, applaud Barney for taking an interest in Japanese culture and customs and making them a part of his artistic subject matter, rather than simply ignoring the non-Western world, as so many stereotypical Americans tend to do? Also, the way in which he uses Japanese symbols and cultural elements is in the context of himself (and Bjork) as the Occidental Guests; there is a pretty large amount of humility attached to Barney’s “appropriation” of Japanese culture. I think this is one of the wisest choices he makes in this series: He places himself within the narrative, it seems, precisely so that he is not just appropriating a culture and pulling the omniscient strings from offstage. Instead, he places himself within the action, as with the Cremaster series, sothat we consider both Barney himself and the character he plays within the context of the world he has created in combination with the world he is appropriating.
I think “appropriating” is precisely the right word for what’s going on here. What Matthew Barney does is create mini-universes, which resemble ours in various ways, some obvious and some obscure, but are at the same time unquestionably unique. He creates and crafts these worlds down to the smallest minutiae, meticulously constructing every last detail. He’s a genius and a control freak. In the case of Drawing Restraint, he’s appropriated aspects of Japanese culture (which is rife with complex symbolism and ritual, Barney’s favorite meat) and weaved them into his own mythology.
I’m going to put myself right up on the chopping block and say that appropriation in art is not always a bad thing. Kara Walker appropriates and quotes Victorian silhouettes in her very popular cut-outs and no one takes issue with that. The difference, of course, is that in Walker’s case, she is a female, African American artist (typically marginalized) drawing from a part of Western, white culture, in part, to subvert it. Barney, on the other hand, is a white, Western artist working within the hegemonic sphere, drawing from a non-Western culture that has long been marginalized in the Western artistic cannon. And I think this is an important point to make about Barney’s work. However, I think it’s also valid to reiterate that it can also be seen as positive and productive that Barney, as a very popular, successful Western artist, is bringing aspects of Japanese culture into American sight lines. I think it’s also worth mentioning that the exhibition began in Japan (Tokyo?), and Barney spent a lot of time in Japan before and during the making of Drawing Restraint 9. It will be interesting to see how Barney writes about all of this in whatever catalogue accompanies the show.
I also had a response on a personal level, getting away from Matthew Barney. One of my major interests as a curator is creating exhibitions that focus on artistic practices in Asia and Latin America. But what does it mean for me, a white, privileged, American curator to “appropriate” Asian and Latin American art in exhibitions? Obviously, I could write a few novels on this, but I thought I should throw it out there. I’m actually reading an excellent essay on this exact topic right now, as part of my preliminary reading for grad school, so I’ll have to add to this discussion once I’ve waded through more of it.
posted by Jess Brier at 4:24 PM
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