issu

e 6

- o

cto

ber

200

6

the

athe

ns c

onte

mpo

rary

art

revi

ew·.

Co

nte

nts 03 Editor’s Note

04 Drafts

07 The Discourse is the Medium

Yannis Stathatos writes about

the field of photographic arts

13 IPRN & Changing Faces

Arabella Plouviez describes IPRN and

the exhibition Changing Faces at the

American College of Athens

21 InterviewStavros Moresopoulos talks to Foteini Barka

29 The Realm of Modes

Thanos Stathopoulos returns in his participation

at the exhibition What Remains is Future

33 Dial Soul: Room Without a View

Christophorer Marinos writes

about Moris Ganis’ exhibition

37 Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching

Stella Sevastopoulou writes about

Mantalina Psoma’s exhibition

41 Visits

Katerina Nikou meets Em-Kei

03 Editor’s Note

04 Drafts

07 The Discourse is the Medium

Yannis Stathatos writes about

the field of photographic arts

13 IPRN & Changing Faces

Arabella Plouviez describes IPRN and

the exhibition Changing Faces at the

American College of Athens

21 InterviewStavros Moresopoulos talks to Foteini Barka

29 The Realm of Modes

Thanos Stathopoulos returns in his participation

at the exhibition What Remains is Future

33 Dial Soul: Room Without a View

Christophorer Marinos writes

about Moris Ganis’ exhibition

37 Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching

Stella Sevastopoulou writes about

Mantalina Psoma’s exhibition

41 Visits

Katerina Nikou meets Em-Kei

This issue has a special focus on photography. Among

other articles, it hosts a text by Arabella Plouviez,

Head of Photography at the University of

Sunderland, an essay by John Stathatos, organiser of

the Kythera Photographic Encounters, and an

interview with Stavros Moressopoulos, art director of

the Month of Photography in Athens.

It should be noted that this is not meant to be the

first issue of a series devoted to different media,

which will concentrate in turn on painting or video.

Still, we hope that this will be the last issue that is so

significantly delayed. The disruption of the

puplication cycle was due to essential restructuring.

The following issue will be double and due in mid

December.

Ed

ito

r’s

no

te

·.

04

Mise en abyme

“The whole question of nationality is

very topical”, the Finnish curator

and journalist Riitta Raatikainen

states as I try to sneak unobserved

at the back of the crammed-full

Raantasipi auditorium that hosts

Shifts, the 2nd IPRN conference in

Jyväskylä, Finland. On the big

screen, portraits, landscapes and

urban scenes selected from the

survey photography project OurLand appear as exemplars of

Finland’s “new national narration”.

The slide show is meticulously

orchestrated so as to give the

international delegates a concise

historical account of the country’s

ethno-cultural commonplace(s),

aiming to illustrate, we are told, “a

national narration for everyone”

through “one’s own life history,

memories and feelings”. I must

admit I only have a vague idea of

what this recurrent notion of

Finnishness might mean, but the

bleak stillness and laconism of

Finnish documentary photography

is quite familiar. Sitting there in the

dark, I recall Aki Kaourismaki’s

deadpan view of Finnish suburbia,

of Helsinki’s run-down shores and

the Tundra wasteland, which to me,

and I guess to other southern

Europeans, has a certain aura of

Northern exoticism, an intriguing

sense of otherness that matches the

bewilderment I felt at Helsinki

airport looking at the colourful tins

of Karhu (bear) pate and älgöt (elk)

meat. It must be the same sort of

cultural disorientation that a Fin

might experience when visiting the

Greek islands in the summer:

sunblasted strips of land populated

by noisy moped riders, blissful

frappé/ouzo drinkers playing

backgammon and elderly mourning

women in black. This brings to

mind a discussion I had with a

friend last summer when lying on

the beach, leafing through the

Sunday supplements we came

across the photographs that were

to furnish this year’s Greek pavilion

in the Biennale of Architecture in

Venice.

The main idea was to present by

focusing on sea travel the Aegean

archipelago as a scattered city; a

great concept in itself, we thought.

Still, the photographs by Spyros

Staveris and Stratos Kalafatis, the

two fairly prominent Greek

photographers who were chosen to

illustrate it, were far from catering to

the expectations raised by such a

brief. They were, no doubt,

aesthetically pleasing. Skilfully

composed or fussily recreating the

snapshot style, in saturated colours

or monochromatic, both series were

in tune with current photographic

trends; one could easily trace the

local or imported references. (For

instance, Kalafatis’s seascape with

ferry is far too similar to a black-and-Dra

fts

05

white photograph produced by one

of his Greek contemporaries several

years ago). What was most vexing

though, as issues of authenticity and

authorship may be beyond the point

here, was the reduplication of

clichés, of generalised and

oversimplified stereotypes that

revolved around a tourist oriented

couleur locale, being

accentuated by the unimaginative

captions with which the journalist

dutifully attempted to contextualise

the photographs. And this was not, I

felt, a conscious act of

deconstruction, some parodying,

postructuralist (à la Craig Owens)

reduplication, a metaphorical mise

en abyme that could revert if cleverly

used its very definition as repetition.

It may be that both nation and

national identity as concepts are

generally defined in relation to

shared topical origins, ethnicity,

cultural behaviours and ethnic

presuppositions, which, perceived as

distinguishing features and a form of

cultural membership, identify by a

two-way reflection and unite the

nationals in the homeland. And

indeed, an ideological construct

based on real economic

developments (Eric Hobsbawn) or

on “imagined communities”

(Benedict Anderson) as this may be,

the creation of an exportable

national identity, more timely than

ever a question in an era of

globalisation, is unavoidably

subjected to a mythologisation

process that cannot be, these

photographers seem to claim, but

stereotypical. Yet, the validity of the

old romanticised notion of a shared

singularly defined commonplace, of

a “collective mentality”, supposedly

part and parcel of a “national

character” that is specific and unique

to each nation, has long been

contested. And it is this bet on the

contest of the commonplace that

those photographs lost. And so did

those that Raatikainen presented, as

some Fin delegates argued while we

were sipping our reindeer soup

A. Moschovi

They are not Cuban, either

On the Sunday Vima of 29th October,

2006, Nasos Vayenas in an article

entitled “Parody in Power”

measures a condition of

contemporary art, according to

which “the boundaries between art

and reality have become so

indiscernible, that it is difficult to

tell the difference”, what is more,

ending in the conclusion that “ if a

period of artistic decadence is that,

in which art grazes on its own

flesh, the era when the artwork can

not be discriminated from its

travesty is a period of ultimate

decadence”.

The examples he presents in order to

support such fall of art onto the level

of reality are numerous as well as

expected: a cleaning crew who

mistook some pieces of sculpture for

trash, the members of an awarding

committee who got confused over a

storage room which they considered

as an installation, Tracy Emin’s bed,

Thanassis Totsikas’s watermelon. As

Dr Vayenas fails to refer in sources as

far as the first two examples are

concerned, the latter invest the

charming, mysterious aura of urban

myths, in this case we should refer to

them as “aesthetic myths”: it is all

about little stories which prove

paradigmatically that all modern art

is actually a fraud and they usually

include an artist, a curator and a

viewer in the role of Nasradin Hodza,

who cunningly uncovers the vicious

consensus and that naturally, as it is

the case with all urban myths, end in

an allusive moral conclusion in the

Drafts

06

form of a terrible penalty. In the case

of genuine urban myths the

punishment comes as a dreadful

catastrophe; in the case of the

aesthetic ones it arrives as a horrible

de-symbolization of the artwork. As

far as Tracy Amin and Thanos

Totsikas are concerned, I do fear that

they both deserve the title of the “

most frequently mentioned artist,

when one wishes to stigmatize art

for having distantiated itself from

the renaissance examples”, possibly

because both artists directly refer to

sexuality without taking the trouble

to disguise it under a fig-leaf.

I would actually tend to agree with

Dr Vayenas that we are really

experiencing an era of decadence-

although we would definitely

disagree as far as which had actually

been the time of prime and bloom.

Dr Vayenas appears finally to defend

as a period of prime exactly the years

which set the bases so that works

like the ones the cleaning crew

regarded as heap of iron trash to be

considered as genuine artworks;

however I do believe that the most

serious of his methodological lapses

is the following: the boundaries

between art and life have always

been difficult to tell and discern, at

least because art has always been a

reality which presupposed a

particular framework and context of

reception. The context of reception

has undoubtedly been dislocated

even in the museum premises. As

ever, one needs to be aware of the

codes of reading not only of the

artworks but also of the context

itself. Or one should be -at least- be

interested in knowing them. If not,

he risks the danger to feel the same

awkward surprise with the nice

middle-aged gentleman in Haris

Kakarouchas’s exhibition of his

photography of Cuba, some time

ago. The nice fellow approached two

ladies who chatted over a glass of

wine, examined them for some

minutes and then went away

murmuring audibly, “Fuck! They are

not Cuban, either”.

Th. Tramboulis

An Issue of Degree

It is certainly not unheard of – if it isn’t

even customary – for someone to

share their thoughts in writing

about something they are trying to

create or they are engaged with.

Moreover, this is something often

honest and charmingly personal -

precisely because it is only human

for one’s little manias and

prejudices to creep into the text. In

the end, it is no secret: when

someone dares to do something of

the sort, they boldly say “now I am

going to talk to you about me”. And

not only is there no reason to

criticize such an action – modesty is

a misunderstood concept,

particularly when combined with

moralizing – but we should value

the profound testimony that such

action entails. We should also think

that there are others who will bare

the responsibility of objectivity, the

person that talks about their own

self will however offer other

elements, and foremost that

attractive language one uses when

they are speaking about their world.

I would have liked all this to be a

description of Marina Fokidis’s text

in the Lifo newspaperette, about the

“Anathena” exhibition in the DESTE

Foundation. But for someone to

describe – in writing and in their own

column - as “highly anticipated” the

very exhibition they are curating,

makes me think once again that

everything is an issue of degree: like

the difference between good taste

and kitch.

Rodya

Drafts

John Stathatos delineates

the expansion of

photography’s discursive

field and examines the

particularities and paradoxes

that characterize the belated

accommodation of

photographic arts in Greece

Th

e d

isco

urs

e

is t

he

me

diu

m

Yorgis

Yerolymbos,

International

House 3, 2002 CO

UR

TE

SY

: A

.AN

TO

NO

PO

UL

OU

,AR

T

8

The discourse is the medium

At a time when its role in

international contemporary art is

uncontested, the precise identity of

the photographic image remains

the subject of a sterile and fruitless

confrontation in Greece – sterile,

insofar as the endless discussion

around the subject invariably lead

to ever more deeply entrenched

positions. These positions have

seen little if any change over the

last two decades: mutual suspicion,

sometimes even contempt,

continue to pointlessly divide the

world of Greek photography from

that of Greek fine artists who make

use of photographic imagery.

To repeat a few basic, even self-

evident observations, it is generally

acknowledged that photography is

a medium which incorporates a

great number of applications,

including those which could be

described as artistic – there is

therefore no reason why it should

not also embrace contemporary fine

art practice. Nevertheless, certain

uses, transformations and

appropriations of photographic

imagery by fine arts practitioners

may produce results which are

effectively far removed from

photographic practice. Furthermore,

it is worth remembering that unlike

those of hard science, artistic

definitions are at best tentative and

fluid, particularly when applied to

work situated in the no-man’s-land

between two or more media or

disciplines. In practice, the initial

distinction between photographic

and non-photographic work is

largely a matter of practical

considerations: whereas the work of

Cindy Sherman, for instance, is

essentially photographic, certain of

Boltanski’s pieces, though they may

derive their impact from

photographic documents, belong

more to the realms of installation

and sculpture than of photography.

Whether Sherman herself is more

accurately described as an artist or a

photographer is largely irrelevant.

There remains the fact that the

distinction between photographic

and fine art practices is less a matter

of the form or quality of the work,

as it is of the context in which it is

presented. Exactly the same work

which would be described as

quintessentially photographic when

exhibited in a photographically

oriented space and subjected to

analysis by photography critics will

be seen as a work of contemporary

visual art when exhibited in an art

gallery and discussed by art critics.

In other words, identity is defined

by discourse, and the point made

almost a decade ago is still valid:

“… a photograph claiming to be a

work of art which is treated as such,

is exhibited in a visual arts context

and partakes of the discourse of the

visual arts is self-evidently a work of

visual art”.1

It therefore goes without saying

that anyone wishing their

photographic work to be subsumed

within this discourse has every

possible incentive to fall in line with

its rules and ethos. These unwritten

but fairly rigid rules include a strong

preference for colour over black and

white; large dimensions; selection of

the exhibition space with an eye to

current fashion; mounting on

aluminium rather than matting and

Karin Borghouts, Untitled, from the Saga series, 2006

CO

UR

TE

SY

OF

TH

E A

RT

IST

10

framing; and, of course, an up-to-

date and streetwise text by the right

sort of critic: references to Kristeva

or Virilio will punch other buttons

than references to Szarkowski or

Chevrier.

Co-option into the field of the visual

arts implies not only harmonisation

with dominant principles, but also

obedience to the laws of the market

– a market which, though still

exiguous as far as Greece is

concerned, undoubtedly regards

photographic work unambiguously

aligned with the fine arts with a

more benevolent eye. In turn,

acceptance by the market

presupposes a relatively high

valuation (since what is precious

must also be expensive), something

increasingly guaranteed by a

luxurious, even extravagant method

of presentation. These days, even

the aforementioned dry-mounting

on aluminium tends to be regarded

as old-fashioned, with the most

sought-after and expensive

photographic imagery now shown

entirely sheathed in heavy acrylic. In

practice, this is an expensive,

cumbersome and vulnerable

method of presentation –

characteristics guaranteeing both

quality and exclusivity.

There have of course been attempts

at promoting a povera version of

fine-art photography, some of them

by charter members of the BritArt

pack; an exhibition by Tracey Emin

at Laure Genillard some years ago

consisted of innumerable small

commercial colour prints pinned to

the gallery walls. Inevitably,

however, the rules of the market

exert irresistible pressure, and

sooner or later most artists fall into

line (a subsequent photographic

work by Emin consisted of a

numbered, limited edition of ten

prints, each 65x81 cms).

Incidentally, an intriguing side issue

concerns those artists whose

photographic work is the product of

talented but anonymous

photographers. Such cases are

rather more frequent than most

viewers realise, since under normal

circumstances these ‘collaborations’

are rarely publicised. Among the

better-known contemporary works

of art which come under this

heading are Helen Chadwick’s

Wreaths to Pleasure and Meat

Abstract series, as well as Hannah

Collins’ Heart and Soul, all of which

were produced by London

photographer Edward Woodman.

What is the cause of the ongoing

discord between Greek

photographers and artists? It can

largely, I believe, be ascribed to

mutual ignorance and suspicion

(though in general, the ignorance is

greatest on the part of the latter), as

well as to the innate tendency of

every group to defend its turf. I

encountered this almost instinctive

reaction while curating the survey

exhibition Image & Icon: The New

Greek Photography, 1975-1995 on

behalf of the Ministry of Culture.

The inclusion of work by a number

of individuals strongly identified as

‘artists’ rather than photographers

(Psychopaidis, Dimitriadi,

Tsoumblekas, Papadimitriou and

others) provoked a reaction on two

fronts: on the one hand from

The discourse is the medium

Eleni Maligoura, Self-Portrait, 2006

CO

UR

TE

SY

OF

TH

E A

RT

IST

12

photographers who felt that the

supposedly embattled photography

faction had thereby in some way

been betrayed, and on the other

from certain art critics who resented

the intrusion into what they

regarded as their personal

preserves.

It is nevertheless true that the

structures of the Greek art world

today favour those photographers

who have been seen to actively

position themselves within the fine

art faction; in practice this means

that those outside the charmed

circle are rarely if ever considered

for participation in major group

shows, international festivals or

other shares of the in any case

exiguous official cake. Two

examples of this obscurantism

should suffice. The first concerns

the exhibition Metamorphoses of

the Modern: The Greek Experience

curated by Anna Kafetsi for the

National Gallery in 1992, a survey

which covered all the visual arts

with the sole exception of

photography; only ignorance could

explain how it is possible to

approach the history of Modernism

in Greece without reference to the

work of Voula Papaioannou or

Dimitris Charisiadis. A similar case

was the 1997 publication of the

four-volume Dictionary of Greek

Artists, which found space for

potters and puppeteers, but

thought it appropriate to ignore

photographers entirely.

The realisation that the work of

some of the most successful

contemporary Greek photographers

associated with the ‘artistic’ faction

(for instance, Panos Kokkinias, Nikos

Markou, Christina Dimitriadi or

Yiorgis Yerolymbos) could easily

and without any essential change

be approached as purely

‘photographic’ is convincing proof

that the disagreement is essentially

superficial, concerning issues of

presentation and status more than

anything else.

Further confirmation was provided

by the recent 13th Athens Month of

Photography. The Month’s two

most interesting solo exhibitions,

those of Stratos Kalafatis at

Kalfayian gallery and of Karin

Borghouts at a.antonopoulou.art

would have fitted equally well into

either category; the same applied to

the notable exhibitions of Athina

Chroni (Bios), Eleni Maligoura

(Artower Agora), Yiannis Kostaris

(Aleph) and Yiorgos Katsangelos

(ELIA). Were these works examples

of photography or of fine art?

Depending on circumstances, the

label applied (a label easily

modified) may affect a work’s

recognition or market potential –

under no circumstances, however,

can it affect its quality. All that

changes is the frame.2

1 John Stathatos, Image & Icon: The New GreekPhotography, 1975-1995, catalogue of the eponymousexhibition, Greek Ministry of Culture & MacedonianMuseum of Contemporary Art, 1997, p.LXXVII (revisedtext).

2 Consider a 17th-century history painting exhibitedwithout its massive carved frame – let us say, Velazquez’sthree by three-and-a-half metre Surrender of Breda in thePrado.

The discourse is the medium

·.

Arabella Plouviez presents

the international

programme IPRN and the

exhibition Changing Faces

IPR

N &

Ch

an

gin

gF

ace

s

CO

UR

TE

SY

IP

RN

Rob Hornstra (The

Netherlands), from the

series Roots of the

Runtur, commission

hosted by the National

Museum of Iceland,

Reykjavik,

Iceland, 2005

08

The International Photography

Research Network (IPRN) is an

organisation linking the work of

art schools, practitioners,

academic institutions, museums,

galleries and archives

internationally. The aim is to

stimulate the quality and

presentation of contemporary

photographic practice, academic

and artistic research and

photography related theory. We

seek to achieve this by providing a

platform for international

exchange leading to collaborative

projects, exhibitions, publications,

research, conferences, networking,

shared databases and archives.

The IPRN grew out of the desire of

the University of Sunderland’s

Photography Department’s staff to

create opportunities and

connections with photographic

organisations outside of the UK.

Being based in the North East of

England has proved to be limiting

when so much photographic

activity (as with many other things)

is focussed on London and the

South East, and it seemed more

viable to generate creative

partnerships and possibilities with

individuals and organisation in

Europe rather than solely in the UK.

Funding for photography in the UK

has changed significantly over the

past 20 years. England had

developed a number of

photography specific gallery

spaces across the country and

through the 1990’s these began to

disappear. The funding for

photography, which had

predominantly come from the Arts

Council, became more general,

with it being aimed at art, rather

than specifically at photography

and as this new agenda embedded,

there was less and less specifically

aimed at, or received by,

photography. If art galleries now

included photography within the

mainstream, there was no need for

specialist galleries anymore. But

this has denied the audience, and

reduced the opportunities for the

practitioners. It was within this

atmosphere of decline in the

support for photography that the

staff at Sunderland felt the need to

develop new connections outside

of the UK. In turn, this has provided

some extraordinary opportunities

that have enabled the IPRN to

develop new commissions for

photographers and for the

audiences to grow.

At its heart, the IPRN is a network of

people passionate about high

quality contemporary

photographic practice that

engages with ideas and issues both

within photography and across the

wider political agenda. Initiated by

the staff at the University of

Sunderland, partnerships began to

be established with individuals in

organisations who recognised that

working together can be creative,

challenging and provide new

perspectives in terms of approach

and operation.

With financial support from the Arts

Council England to support

photographic fellowships with our

new partners, it became evident

that there were concerns about the

IPRN & Changing Faces

CO

UR

TE

SY

IP

RN

Arturas Valiauga

(Lithuania), from the

series Still Identity,

commission hosted by

University of

Leiden/Paradox, The

Netherlands, 2005

16

inequality of the relationship - that

is, the photographers were all from

the UK, making the process one-

sided and there was a lack of any

longer term planning or

sustainability. This led us to pull

together an application to the

Culture 2000 EU programme for a

three year project called Changing

Faces, alongside our now firmly

established partners: Ute Eskildsen

from Museum Folkwang, Essen,

Germany; Kimmo Lehtonen from

the University of Jyvaskyla and

Centre for Creative Photography,

Jyvaskyla Finland; Lucia Benicka

from Dom Fotografie, Liptovsky

Mikulas, Slovakia; Bas Vroege from

Paradox and University of Leiden;

The Netherlands.

It also became apparent through

negotiating the first commissions

that there needed to be some kind

of theme to provide a context and

some continuity across the

different work being produced -

something that would

accommodate a range of practices,

artistic approaches and responses

whilst also being able to be

interpreted in an interesting way in

a range of different places. The

theme of ‘work’ seemed to provide

a subject that was both broad

enough to be interrogated and

interpreted in different countries,

whilst providing a framework for

the production to fit into.

Changing Faces was remarkable in

being one of only 2 projects that

received three year funding from

the EU Culture 2000 fund, and for

the first time this funding was

coming into photography. It is both

the individuals and their respective

organisations, who have been the

key to the success of IPRN. The

partners are people who have

taken a leap of faith, or perhaps had

the imagination to see the risks as

worth taking.

Suddenly, as a group, we had a

major programme to deliver and at

the same time we were a new kind

of organisation, which did not

appear to have any easily

identifiable precedent. We have

had to learn on the job, and

inevitably there are some things we

could have done better whilst other

things have been hugely

successful. Delivering the

programme of activity that is

mapped out in our EU application is

very challenging. There are six

international exchanges of

photographers involving the

partner countries, but in each year

three ‘new’ countries are added.

This entails the researching of

relevant contacts and

organisations to select and host the

commissioned photographers.

There also needs to be the

opportunity to exhibit or

disseminate the work after

production. Each year there is also:

a major international conference, a

collective exhibition that

incorporates all the work, and a

publication that brings together

the work with some exploration of

the photographers’ experience

through the process along with

selected papers from the

conference. Then there is the web-

site, which provides a digital

archive and the physical archive

IPRN & Changing Faces

Arabella Plouviez (UK), from the series Naristan (Ladyland), commission hosted by DRIK, Bangladesh, 2005

CO

UR

TE

SY

IP

RN

18

which is based at Dom Fotografie in

Liptovsky Mikulas, Slovakia.

The exhibition in Athens, as part of

the 13th International Month of

Photography, was first shown at

the Museum Folkwang, Germany,

and includes the work produced by

the photographers commissioned

in the first year of the Changing

Faces programme.

Icelandic photographer Orri was

sent to Slovakia, that resulted in

him producing a stark body of silver

gelatine prints, that speak of the

absence of work and industry but

also the rawness and frailty of

nature there.

Rob Hornstra from The Netherlands

travelled to Iceland, where he

focussed on disengaged and

disenchanted youth, the

abandonment of rural landscapes

and the influx of migrant workers

into the surviving Icelandic

industries.

Finnish Photographer Renja Leino’s

commission in Usti nad Labem in

the Czech Republic provided an

insight into the ‘digital invasion’

and the presence of computers in

the lives of the young people there.

Her subjects are lost in thought at

their computers; surfing the inter-

net, playing games or working. The

use of a mobile phone as her

camera provides reference to the

people she chose to engage with

but also to ‘snapshot’ photography.

Stepanka Stein and Salim Issa from

the Czech Republic travelled to the

North East of England where they

captured people at leisure,

escaping their ordinary working

class lives; a day at the beach,

partying on a bank holiday, or a

night at the dog racing. In spite of

the subjects’ confident stances, the

images are characterised by a

somewhat oppressive atmosphere,

through the use of reduced colour

and the low lighting that bathe the

scenes.

Thomas Neumann asked the young

of Lithuania to describe their hopes

and aspirations and how they were

affected or improved by Lithuania’s

accession to Europe in May 2005.

The project was realised as a large

wooden rocket, bearing cut- out

images from glossy youth

magazines, juxtaposed with textual

responses from those he

approached. The structure can be

seen as providing a nod to the

country’s soviet past or as a

futuristic emblem of travel to new

worlds.

Arturas Valiauga, from Lithuania,

spent time in the Netherlands

working with the Lithuanian

community in Amsterdam, creating

panoramas, stitched together to

provide a complex interweaving of

people and their possessions

To date, the IPRN has managed 25

commissions and worked in 15

countries, each commission

responding to the broad theme of

work. Of these about half are

funded through the Changing

Faces project, whilst the others

have required funds from other

sources.

The IPRN is working with

institutions that bring different

IPRN & Changing Faces

19

IPRN & Changing Faces

demands and agendas in relation

to contemporary photography,

whilst each country also brings

different funding criteria and

agendas to the table. These

different agendas continue to

challenge and inform the way that

we work.

At the same time there are a

number of questions that have

come up through the project.

Inevitably this includes the right to

fail, that is, what happens if a

photographer is unable to achieve

the work that they have proposed?

Further more, there are questions

such as; the commissions provide a

two-month period for

photographers to work in a

different country, but what does

that mean in terms of non-

indigenous photographers

working outside their own

territory? This can provide a ‘new

eye’ but can equally be superficial.

For many that has meant

transposing their practice onto

another place with differing

outcomes. Another debate that has

developed is whether it is

important that the work

undertaken speaks directly about

the place and culture that the

photographer is working in.

Certainly for some this is important

and influential, whilst for others it is

not. The selection processes have

also created much debate, as have

the different expectations and

aspirations within photography in

different countries. We do not claim

to have answers, but are testing out

different ways of addressing the

issues. Equally, we try to evaluate

the impact of this activity, although

it is often the longer-term impact,

which is harder to evaluate that is

the most interesting.

After the success of the Bangladesh

to UK commission in 2004,

undertaken by Shahidul Alam, the

UK section of IPRN wanted to

extend this relationship. The

potential was to develop a very

different photographic dialogue by

creating further exchanges

between Asia and the UK. This

included sending a UK

photographer to Bangladesh,

which I was selected for. The

representation of Islamic countries

has clearly shifted in the West in

recent years whilst there is still the

equally problematic relationship of

notions of the ‘first’ and ‘third’

world. Moreover, creating

commissions in Asia raised new

challenges, such as making work

for much more diverse audiences

within both European and the Asia.

Shahidul Alam came from

Bangladesh to the UK in 2004/5 and

made work which looked at the

aristocracy, in a piece called People

of Leisure. Shahidul used the

commission as an opportunity to

reverse the ‘usual’

photographer/subject relationship,

to spend time as an Asian

photographer representing the

institutions and the individuals of

British aristocracy, to explore these

peoples’ views and ideas. As

Shahidul says ‘I join hands with

others in returning the colonial

gaze. This work is for the colonisers

as much as it is for us.’ The images

bring together the rural estate with

20

IPRN & Changing Faces

the city club, the inevitable tweed

and hunting and racing, those

spaces and signifiers that are so

clearly occupied and owned by the

privileged classes and embedded

in the histories that define British

aristocracy.

When planning to work in

Bangladesh I was conscious of

avoiding the stereotypical views. I

wanted to make work about

women and education. My research

led me to the work of Begum

Rokeya Hussain, a still celebrated,

early twentieth-century, feminist

writer, who, also importantly,

started the first school for girls.

Rokeya’s work, Sultana’s Dream

describes a feminist Muslim utopia

and I have combined quotes from

this text with portraits of middle-

class women in their home

environments. Sitting in posed

moments of reflection, always with

reference to books, as well as the

domestic, the work reflects upon

the importance of access to

education and specifically literacy.

This provides people with the tools

for development and progress

within their lives and the

opportunity to be ambitious and

challenging of the status quo.

It is also important that the work

gets out and is circulated, so that a

range of audiences can have access

to it. This has been through

individual and group exhibitions as

well as publications. Often the work

is shown in the country it has been

made in, but also there are tours of

work, bringing together

commissions that naturally pair.

Just as the first Changing Faces

exhibition was originally shown in

Museum Folkwang, Germany and is

now in Athens as part of the month

of photography, and will then

move on to Milan, the Asian work is

due to be exhibited in the National

Gallery of Malaysia, in spring 2007,

and will also be shown in the form

of projections as part of the

Photography Festival in Cambodia

in late 2006.

It is key for the IPRN to continue to

be organic rather than prescriptive

in its development. It is also

important that it does not only

extend and expand but is able to

reflect on and deepen the work, to

grow further opportunities

alongside countries where we have

created like-minded relationships.

The work from the IPRN is greater

than the sum of its parts, and it has

become an element of a dialogue,

about photography, about

commissioning and about work

through production, research,

exhibition, publication, and

archive. As a network, the IPRN is

developing a dialogue

internationally through and about

contemporary photography,

gaining from different histories,

activities and cultures.

The IPRN exhibition Changing Faces, is held

at the American College of Athens –

Cultural Center (ACG Art, (Ipitou 17b,

Plaka), from 11th October until 1st

December.

·.

Stavros Moressopoulos talks

to Fotini Barka about the

Month of Photography in

Athens, about its successes

and difficulties

Inte

rvie

w

PH

OT

O: P

AN

OS

KO

KK

INIA

S

22

Interview

I met Stavros Moressopoulos at the

office of the Hellenic Photography

Centre, at the foot of the Acropolis,

enjoying his first hours of relaxation

after the completion of the 13th

International Month of

Photography in Athens. Although

this was the 13th time the event

was held, the concept is now

twenty years old, and its artistic

director has begun to think about

the succeeding scheme. Person-

centred organizations often lose

their value when passed on to new

hands, he says. He does not believe

that there are no capable persons to

succeed him, but “one must be

somewhat of a juggler in order to

do something like that in Greece,

and that is not easy for most

people.”

For him, it all started in Thessaloniki

in the 1970s. His first encounter

with photography was through a

Minolta SRT 101 he bought in 1969.

An amateur photography lover,

staff director for Nestle, it was a

matter of time before he changed

course.

And he did. In 1977, he took the

plunge by publishing the magazine

“ºˆÙÔÁÚ·Ê›·”. Its success made

him move to Athens in 1986,

establish the Hellenic Photography

Centre, and in April 1987 the 1st

International Month of

Photography, having as its model

the Paris Month of Photography

and supported by the Municipality

of Athens and the Ministry of

Culture.

He proudly shows me his collection

of clippings dating from this

period, whose size reveals that it

was a very powerful start. “From

our first year we managed to be

considered by related international

festivals as one of Europe’s most

important photography events. We

managed to put Athens on the map

right away.”

The Month of Photography was

then organized every two years.

Thus, the second event was in 1989

and the third one in 1991, when

Stavros Moressopoulos had to

close down the business.

The frequent change of

governments, and therefore of

ministers of Culture, forced him to

play a hardly congenial “hide and

seek” in their offices. The dire

financial condition of the Month of

Photography soon led him to

indignation and he gave up.

In 1994, the minister of Culture at

the time, Thanos Mikroutsikos,

began the City Cultural Network,

signing a programmatic contract

with Skopelos for the Photography

Centre to be established on the

island. “For the first time,

Mikroutsikos showed that he

cared.” A committee was

established (Moressopoulos being

one of the members) at the Ministry

of Culture in order to develop a

policy for photography, and the

legislative regulation required for

establishing the Thessaloniki

Photography Museum began to be

discussed.

Thus, in 1997, when the law for the

24

Interview

TPM was passed, Stavros

Moressopoulos decided to become

active once again with the now

annual Month of Photography. “I

believe that this was our best year.”

Yet, the problems remain the same.

“The question was and still is how

an event in Greece can get the

necessary support by the Ministry

of Culture in order to last over time.

My view is that no Ministry of

Culture is obliged to accept

everyone’s proposal. It suffices that

first the Ministry of Culture

establishes the practices that

enable it to know who is who, what

is what, and whether the project

meets the criteria in order to be

supported. This is the spirit in

which I approach the Ministry of

Culture every time that there is a

change of leadership. Eventually,

someone should impose some sort

of order so that the value added by

every event to culture and the

Ministry should be measured.

Unfortunately this is not the case.

Mr. Voulgarakis seems to be

interested in this respect.”

Which were the objectives of theMonth of Photography when youstarted?

“From 1997 on, experience showed

that using mostly municipal

galleries required resources, such

as security personnel, exceeding

the modest abilities of a small team

such as ours. Thus, I contacted Julia

Dimakopoulou, former PSAT

chairwoman, in order to begin the

Month of Photography with the

participation of its member

galleries. This was implemented,

and thus one of our objectives, that

is, to introduce photography into

the art galleries, was met.”

What about your otherobjectives?

“The two key objectives when we

first started were to help

photography to develop in Greece

and to promote the Greek works

abroad. The latter was achieved in

the early years in a very simple way:

We invited people from abroad,

something we do every year; we

simply had the opportunity then, in

other words we could afford to set

certain conditions. We therefore

said to them, we invite you, we take

the cultural product that your

country exports, we bring you here

in order for you to see what we do,

visit Greece, see the Parthenon, but

you must promise when you leave

to organize a similar Greek

exhibition in your country. We are

not going to tell you what that

should be; we will give you the

opportunity to see what is

happening in our country, and the

choice is yours. This is how David

Bussels, who we invited from the

Primavera Photografica in

Barcelona, chose Nelly’s. Similarly,

Z. Monteroso from Mois de la photo

a Paris presented an exhibition of

Antoniadis-Depollas in Paris. Fred

Baldwin from Huston Photo Fest

invited the Athens Photography

Centre, and a very large exhibition

was organized in Houston, and so

many other events.

From 1997 on, there was no

25

Interview

support form the Ministry along the

lines of go ahead and organize

things and we are right behind you.

But when you don’t know what

your budget next year will be, you

cannot work internationally. This is

the main problem. The truth is that

after 1997, we did not manage to

go ahead with a plan and say that

now we will work for next year. On

the contrary, what we often say and

have repeatedly written in our

catalogues is that we are

organizing the event this year – for

there were years when we had zero

support from the Ministry – in the

hope that something is going to

change next year so that we will

still be entitled to do it again.”

“This year, I literally tread on

unknown ground. I was almost

convinced that after having lasted

for twenty years, it might be time to

finish with all this. And just when

we said that we were going to close

down shop for the second time,

there was true interest from the

Ministry of Culture. As usual, we

submitted our papers again,

proved that we were not an

elephant, and there was a

substantial response.

What exactly was that?

“I was invited on several occasions

to speak about what we do, what

we have in mind, we in effect

discussed the benefits from such an

event, and we finally received a

major grant in the order of 50,000

euro.”

Does this sum cover the Month of

Photography expenses or is thereother income, from sponsors forexample?

“The Month of Photography has

not managed to secure a major

sponsor, for sponsorship in Greece

is a matter of acquaintances. I do

not believe that photography is

less important to people and

sponsors. It is simple. If you know

the right people you can find

sponsors.”

Consequently, these 50,000 eurosare your only capital?

“It is the basis for a festival

somewhat smaller from the one we

did this year. We need double that

amount in order to be able to go

international. If events such as the

Month of Photography do not

export works, they have no reason

to be. It is not possible to

collaborate with the Goethe

Institut, the French Institute, the

Hellenic-American Union and

import their culture; to be forced to

import work from other countries

because this is the only way that an

event can build an international

character and at the same time not

to be able to make these people

export something of ours to their

own countries. This cannot be

done, unless we have money.”

What is it that you can cite as yourachievements after these 20years?

“That we did promote

photography, and that we began

the export of Greek works. I

remember back then, when I

travelled abroad, when the country

27

Interview

of Greece was mentioned, three

things came to mind: John Demos,

Kostas Manos, Lucas Samaras! We

believe that we have certainly

prepared the ground for exporting

Greek works. Another goal that was

always on our mind was to get

Greek photography into the

galleries. There are indeed

obstacles that remain. There are

photographers who state that

photography should not be in

galleries. I reply to them that

obviously their work is not good

enough for that and this is their

excuse. There are also artists from

other disciplines who argue that

photography does not deserve this

treatment. I believe that these are

the ones who have benefited from

photography, they are the ones

who have learned to paint based

on photography, and the existence

of the media in the galleries

frightens them.”

Why a Month of Photographyafter all?

“What else would make it possible

to have 47 exhibitions in the

same city, demonstrating that

photography is an art, that

photography is here, see it,

enjoy it?”

Yes, but if 20 years ago the stakefor you was to prove thatphotography is an art, it cannotbe the same in 2007.

“Definitely. It should take into

serious consideration the new

media and the ways it can use

them. Moreover, it should take into

consideration the results of these

new media. The image cannot be

monostil anymore. There is more to

be assimilated. Video art for

instance is a field that should

merged with photography. I am

not saying that video art should be

introduced into an event such as

mine, but there are things that

have to be merged and be jointly

shown. Internationally, similar

events are still in the process of

redefining themselves. Yet, video

and multimedia in general are

there, too, but they are secondary

activities. In other words, video art

should not be in a photography

event what photography used to

be in relation to other arts;

photography, on the other hand,

should not be a second rate

product at a video art festival.

Some things should open up. This

is the challenge for me.”

How would your objectives beredefined twenty years later,given the rapid growth of themedium?

“Every event should constantly

reinvent itself. Redefine its goals

and the necessity of its existence.

We have shown what we are able to

do even from our first year. If we

had had the support required, the

Month of Photography would have

been the top event today. I know

what we can achieve. At any rate,

we must redefine our goals with

respect to the image in general.

Nobody can doubt that even

though the use of photography

continues to increase, at the same

time it recedes as an autonomous

28

Interview

entity due to the new technologies.

Thus, photography today must be

very dynamically redefined. Yet, we

must once again speak of the

means at one’s disposal for this

redefinition. If we have not secured

the means to enable us to organize

the next Month of Photography,

perhaps our way to redefine

ourselves would be to ask: ‘should

we stop it?’”

Could it be that the Month ofPhotography should produceworks instead of simply hosting it?

“Every festival must have its own

production in order to establish its

own identity. We have a unit every

year. What is it? Sometimes it is

substantial and sometimes it is only a

title. Yet, do not imagine that this is

the case only in Greece. I have seen it

happen in Paris, too. A title that is so

broad as to accommodate anything.

This year, too. “About faces.” Which

means that any photograph

featuring a human figure or even its

absence can fit. We certainly tried to

approach this very broad theme in

three respects: morality, ambiguity,

allegory. These can accommodate

even more to a certain extent. The

Month of Photography and

Photosynkyria are two festivals

through which most photography

projects go. This does not mean that

photographers who produce work

should wait for a title to be

announced before they can produce

it, for they would not be creating art if

they did. Therefore, the events are

obliged to take into consideration

the contemporary production

irrespective of their thematic

contents. And the Photography

Museum does thematic productions

on works which are already there. In

other words, it makes selections in

Greece and other countries. Yet,

what should happen is to invite to

produce works, to commission. This

is something that I cannot do. It is the

work of cultural policy. It is the work

of the Ministry. I made an attempt

this year to ask a grant of 5,000 euro

from a few foundations (Onassis,

Niarchos, and Costopoulos) in order

for a commission programme to be

established. Two out of three replied

negative, the third is yet to discuss it

at the Board. A cultural policy should

not include only entities which

receive money in order to organize

events. Agencies are useful, but if a

gifted artist does not get money in

order to produce works, neither the

agency nor the country will have

anything to exhibit.”

Which is the public of the Month ofPhotography and how large is it?

“The main number of visits

depends on the venue where an

event is held. When you go to the

Benaki Museum and there are

queues, it’s like you are at the

Pompidou, or the Tate. Yet, the

Benaki is the happy exception; I

wish we could clone it. There is no

other venue with a ticket. Some

have their public, some don’t. Yet

the fact that they come to the

Month of Photography again and

again means something. There is a

result. Yet, as to numbers, I do not

know what to tell you.” ·.

For the fleeting view of the

exhibition What remains is

future and his contrapuntal

participation in the

performance A Monster of

Education of Alexandros

Psychoulis writes Thanos

Stathopoulos

Th

e r

ea

lm

of

mo

de

s

The day after

the opening,

the artists with

hangover

30

The realm of modes

“I get into the position of someone who

does something–not someone who

speaks about something: I do not

study a product; I get to produce

something. I do away with

discoursing about the discourse. No

more does the world come to me in

the form of an object, but in the

form of writing, that is, of actual

practice.”

Roland Barthes, For a long time, I used

to go to bed early

I found myself in Patras, participating

in the exhibition What remains is

future, responding to an invitation

(challenge) by visual artist

Alexandros Psychoulis to

contribute, as a member to

PoetsInSiesta, to the performance

that he was organising for the event,

entitled A Monster of Education. We

have regularly and very productively

cooperated with Alexandros in recent

years, on various occasions and

varying circumstances, requirements

and projects. Our cooperation has

always been open to action and

interaction. My engagement with

visual art is polyrhythmic and

evolving, yet clear. That is, I am mostly

interested in introducing and using

speech as an active element of the

visual vocabulary; I am also interested

in the “solution” of genres, as art

genres are no more subject to rules

and formative conditions of

autonomy as they have been in the

past, but are only subject to an

interpretation, which may place them

in a certain context or expand them.

Of course, by that I do not mean that a

text, for instance, ceases to exist as a

text, within its familiar context.

Certainly, a text continues to be a

text; yet, its genre is not necessarily

made specific. On the contrary, in its

indeterminacy it becomes a

punctuation mark in a broader

signifying text, marked by the

cumulative effect of manners, forms

and signs, implying a critical

metaphor (or a vanishing act),

occurring ad infinitum. The curator of

the exhibition What remains is the

future, Nadia Argyropoulou, seems to

adopt this view, as she has broadened

the scope of the exhibition to include

the participation of several artists of

diverse backgrounds, yet always with

a converging approach and

experience. “What should one expect

from this exhibition?” she asks

rhetorically in a caption in the first

fanzine accompanying What remains

is the future, and continues: “A

manner, rather than a genre…” The

exhibition has been organized in such

a way that anyone could relate to it. It

proposes reading current Greek art

through a flow of activity from

everyday life and its vocabulary:

music culture, fringe press, internet

reviews, films and television,

independent events, fashion, web

associations, advertising, graphics,

street poetry…” Indeed, this

“manner” as well as this “flow of

activity” infuse the exhibition with an

air of freedom, of casualness and

“habitation.” The Old Arsakeio Girls’

School, in its current inconclusive

state, has posed a great challenge.

Those of us who found ourselves

there (even for a short time, as in my

case) during the organization of the

exhibition, producing the works in

situ or making last-minute

arrangements, wandering around the

classrooms, corridors and wings of

the old school, climbing up the stairs

∆he Monster of Education, image of the concert

32

The realm of modes

and down the basements – coming

across blackboards, chalk, toilets – we

all made the discovery of a space so

vibrant, so charged with emotion that

it was impossible to pass or not to feel

as the location of your own school

years. This illusion was shattered at

the same time by the presence of the

artists and the works taking shape

right there, in front of one’s eyes. As if

one were dreaming of one’s life and

living it at the same time. Lights,

cables, all sorts of materials,

projectors, sounds, rubble, metal,

Plexiglas, trial video projections, all

transcended the concept of the old

school from the “young girls’

education” of old to an education in

materials. Most of the works

“inhabited” and “were inhabited by”

the space and the distinct character

of Arsakeio, producing a multiplicity

of associations, often unexpected

ones. As to how the site-specificity of

the exhibition was finally impossible

to be realized in full, blame it on sorry

state of the official art establishment

and perhaps on the personal conduct

of certain artists; at any rate, the

manner was not altered. This

exhibition is an account of what-is-

happening-now (another, in situ

version) in the Greek visual art scene,

presenting very young artists side by

side with a few somewhat older ones.

The initiative is undoubtedly

contrapuntal and radical, partly

because for the first time in a Greek

event of this scale and of official

status has such a blend emerged,

which involves — without any

shadow of a complex or a nervous tic

— different ages and generations

(that is, some already mature artists,

along with artists in the process of

finding their voices or yet to be

proven ones; in other words,

established manners and personal

idioms, along with manners still in the

process of formation and exploration,

and/or yet to be proven). And this,

often in reverse, in a narrative

happening strictly in the present

tense and with a curator who did not

shy away from the distinct fluidity –

nay, the quicksand – of classifying

such a young generation, nor from

errors, disagreements and

omissions.1 The result clearly

indicated — besides the terms and

conditions of contemporary visual

production — a fleeting view, the

interplay of works and conditions.

Aside from the quality of the works,

which was mostly of a high standard,

the impression created is one of a

truly happy exhibition, devoid of

clichés and fashionable patterns,

which did not try to “conclude” or

punctuate, although punctuate it

certainly did. This look at the current

visual scene met my own eye on the

evening of the opening, first coming

across a wall and then, miraculously,

across another gaze in the “fuck”

performance by the Ionas brothers,

before surrendering to the wonderful

flow of activity and the realm of

narratives and modes.

The group exhibition Whatever Remains is

Future, organized by Aggeliki Andonopoulou

and curated by Nadia Argiropoulou, is held

at Patras, from 23rd September until 19th

November.

1 “It goes without saying, the curator notes in the samefanzine, that at the end of the day the risk, theresponsibility of each participation and any omissionsbelong to the exhibition curator, and this contract is themain difference between a curator and an art manager oran event manager, such as those who abound in thevisual arts scene nowadays.”

·.

For the hermetic, ascetic,

transitional exhibition of

Moris Ganis writes

Christopher Marinos

Dia

l S

ou

l: A

Ro

om

w

ith

ou

t a

Vie

w

Moris Ganis,

Dialsoul#2, 2006 CO

UR

TE

SY

: G

AL

LE

RY

3

34

In connection to last year’s Prague

Biennale 2, organizers Giancarlo

Politi and Helena Kontova stated in

an interview that the exhibition

Expanded Painting, organized in the

Biennale, “attempts to present the

state of painting today, reflecting

the reality of the situation as it is

lived by artists. It treats painting as

ongoing research, with its own

patterns of growth and behavior,

rather than approaching the

medium from a contrived or

artificially constructed critical

standpoint. We just want the

exhibition to be as genuine a

reflection of current practice in

painting as possible.” 1 In their

attempt, therefore, to provide a

genuine reflection of current

practice in painting, the curators of

the aforementioned exhibition

suggest that we often forget that

painting is produced and operates

according to its own, inner

mechanisms, over and above

specific trends and tendencies. In

other words, if painting is to resist

the homogenized dictatorship of

media images under the present

circumstances, it must break free of

the guidelines imposed to it by the

art market and exhibition curators.

Accordingly, if art presents the state

of painting today “as it is lived by

artists” – more specifically, painters –

even though it may not make as

good or as promising an impression,

there are still more chances for it to

be a genuine reflection of the times.

Entitled Dial Souls, the new solo

exhibition by Maurice Ganis at

Gallery 3 provides a solid argument

in favor of the aforementioned

opinions expressed by Politi and

Kontova. In order to facilitate this, in

other words to be able to classify

Dial Soul as “ongoing research,” we

must make a short survey of the

artist’s work over the years. Born in

Trikala, Greece in 1973 and raised in

Thessaloniki, Ganis studied painting

at the Bezalel Academy in Jerusalem

– a fact immediately setting him

apart from other Greek painters of

his age. He graduated in 1996.

During this early period, he worked

on Club, a series of works (acrylic on

wood) of a specific size (60x70),

which examine the relation between

the outside space and the inner,

spiritual space. This was a phase of

intense searching for a personal

point of view, which led the artist to

experimentation through painting

artificial spaces, evoking the worries

and concerns of a person of his age

who experiences an environment

such as his. In 1998, he participated

at the group exhibition The Artist’s

Ideal Home at Foka Gallery in

Thessaloniki, contributed to a group

exhibition at Rebecca Camhi Gallery

in Athens – it was then that he

painted Lady Diana pursued by the

paparazzi – and in 1999 he came to

the forefront when Dan Cameron

selected his work for the exhibition

METRO: New Trends in

Contemporary Greek Art, organized

at the DESTE Foundation in Athens.

In a statement, a few months later,

Ganis wrote: “I am creating my own

mythology. Every new element,

imported into this world, adds a new

piece to the endless puzzle of this

mythology. The ‘realistic’ space of

the studio provides me with enough

room for the realization of my

projects – from the most modest to

the most megalomaniacal. Narrative,

the source of the image and the

aspect of space will continue to be

the main tools sustaining my

method.” This method was to

emerge even more clearly in spring

2001, in his first solo exhibition at

Camhi Gallery, when he presented

his Circo Pagani – The Circus of the

Image Hunters. The exhibition

Dial Soul: A Room without a View

Moris Ganis, TABLE#3, 2006

CO

UR

TE

SY

: G

AL

LE

RY

3

36

Dial Soul: ŒÓ· ‰ˆÌ¿ÙÈÔ ¯ˆÚ›˜ ı¤·

included paintings which depicted

the artist’s studio, based on his

personal mood, an installation-

simulation of a circus as well as a

music happening at the gallery. In

his distinctive version of a circus,

Ganis wished to identify the

mechanism by which we conceive

the images reflected in memory,

which differs in specific respects

from a photographic capture of an

existing image. As the artist stated at

the time, “the differentiation

between an animate and an

inanimate object is the basis –

motion follows.”

Five years and two more solo

exhibitions later, Ganis continues to

focus on the representation of

spaces which “describe reality as

experienced by the artist.” The ten

paintings comprising Dial Soul

depict, in a semi-abstract fashion,

the interiors inhabited by the artist.

They are arranged in the gallery in

such a way as to achieve an effect of

simulation. In fact, it is an expanded

painting installation, which, as stated

in the press release, “what the artist

proposes is the thought that he

himself creates and experiences,

rather than images from the

surrounding world.” Besides its

expanded nature, Ganis’ painting

proves equally representative of its

times, and not simply because it

makes widespread use of mobile

telephony catchphrases, synthesized

jingles and computer smileys.2 Ganis

began as a pop-impressionist of daily

reality in an era of a global culture,

before arriving at a more hermetic,

ascetic, almost antiquated

vocabulary – characteristically, his

adopted iconographic language is

the one we come across in the

Nineties –, in a deliberately or not

cannibalistic painting, regurgitating

on itself. Dial Soul is a simple,

immediate exhibition without

superficiality or cheap effects; at the

same time, it is suspiciously neutral

and distanced. One might say that

Ganis went from a Seraut period

(discos, clubs, circus, paparazzi) to a

Van Gogh period (seclusion, self-

cleansing, mysterious fascination,

hypnotic aura). While he still

continues to be engaged in the

secularization of everyday images, in

Dial Soul he goes one step further,

depicting introversion, the shift

towards an impersonal privacy, as

well as a state of embarrassment

regarding the very medium of

painting (in spite of the excitement

surrounding its supposed triumphal

revival). In conclusion, Dial Soul is an

exhibition which, at least indirectly,

reflects the “transition” from one era

to another, from one century to the

next, from one end of a decade

(1996) to the other (2006). Only the

future can tell if the manner in which

Ganis experiences the present reality

will be the end, or the beginning of a

new, more optimistic iconography.

Besides, as the painter said with

respect to his work in January 1996,

“photography is a tool that helps me

to collect elements of the outside

world. The rest is all a reflection of

my mental space.”

Moris Ganisãs exhibition Dial Soul at the

Gallery 3 (3 Fokilidou,Kolonaki, 210 3628 230,

galerie3@otenet.gr)was held from 06th

October until 04th November.

1 The 2nd Biennale in Prague (May 26 – September 152005) revolved around two main themes: The ExpandedPainting - Painting and Around exhibition, and theexhibition AcciÛn Directa, art as political action. Greekartists participating in Expanded Painting were MiltosManetas and Diana Mangania.

2 The use of smilies may reveal a critical aspect of Ganis’work, as it may well be considered as hinting atideological propaganda. It is no accident that severalleft-wing political analysts identify these symbols with thefundamentalist and “fascist” aspects of Americanideology.

·.

Stella Sevastopoulou writes

about the enigmatic,

mysterious puzzles of

Mantalina Psoma’s women

Ma

nta

lin

a P

som

a’s

so

ul

sea

rch

ing

Mantalina Psoma,

The Quest 19

(detail), 2006 CO

UR

TE

SY

: R

EB

EC

CA

CA

MH

I G

AL

LE

RY

38

Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching

Is painting passé, or a totally fresh break

from conceptual confusion, media

manipulation and arty shock tactics?

At Wannajob (44 Konstantinopoleos),

near the happening ‘Gazi strip’ of

Athens, the Rebecca Camhi Gallery

has organized a show of Mantalina

Psoma’s latest work, which presents

contemporary painting’s tempting

proposition. The artist’s probing of

the modern human condition,

rendered via impeccably detailed

brushwork, invites all to re-assess this

traditional medium’s alluring illusion

of reality.

Psoma’s women might be physically

situated in a tidy interior, or in an

idyllic forest, but their eyes are in a

trance, not staring at the viewer, but

beyond him/her - they seem to be in

the process of mentally escaping

their environment, to somewhere far,

far away. Symbols of the modern

individual’s inability to attain

satisfaction (partly due to the many

opposing value systems that society

has crammed into our heads),

Psoma’s characters personify the

numbness of today’s human nature.

These are individuals whose mode of

reaction to their dissatisfaction with

their environment, is to day-dream.

With their arms by their side, without

tension or anger, and without real

grief, they stare at something else –

their lost dream maybe, another life,

or a terrible secret. The artist’s brush

has attempted to decode the

contemporary human psyche, to

outline perhaps its weariness born

from an eternal strife between

opposing ideals - eg nature and

artifice, good and evil – ongoing

archaic battles that have worn us out.

For Leonardo, the body expressed

the intention of the soul in his

painting: “A good painter has two

chief objects to paint, man and the

intention of his soul; the former is

easy, the latter hard, because he has

to represent it by the attitudes and

movements of his limbs.” Psoma’s

figures deliberately don’t seem to

express their mind’s operations via

their body language. Mind and body

seem separate. Their eyes are full of

thought, but their bodies are without

expression – one searches for

gestures which might hint at their

mental predicament, but to no avail.

Uncomfortably numb, her figures are

isolated, enigmatic, mysterious

puzzles.

The large canvas Through the Forest

(150x270cm), presents us with a

young woman whose violet skirt and

top contrast effectively with the

green foliage around her. She has a

full head of flowing hair and a pale,

oval face with delicate features –

similar to that of Botticelli’s divine

beauty in The Birth of Venus. And

like that renaissance master’s Venus,

she appears to be lonely. The natural

environment of Psoma’s ethereal

beauty is not enough to appease her

mind – and the black trunks of the

trees behind her, seem to encroach

her in a threatening manner.

Similarly, the man-made

environment of the home also has a

claustrophobic feel to it, in the work

Silent Night I. Here, a character

whose features remind one of a well-

known actress, stares out of the

picture, expressing again the

uncertainty of her seemingly

comfortable surroundings.

The children’s portraits that one

encounters in the show, are a

different chapter altogether. “There’s

something doll-like about my

children, one wonders if they are real

or not”, explains the artist. And

indeed, not only does Psoma explore

the opposites of nature and artifice

here, but also of good and evil,

innocence and experience – these

are children that look like they are

hiding some terrible mischief.

Furthermore, some of them don’t

look all that young either. As is the

case with many children, they

sometimes seem to be adults in

miniature clothes, “the little people”

as Robin Williams comically puts it, or

“Age masquerading as juvenility” and

“Little Father time”, as Thomas Hardy

has described it in Jude the Obscure.

These wolves in sheep’s clothing

have a spooky air about them.

Mantalina Psoma, Silent Night II, 2006

CO

UR

TE

SY

: R

EB

EC

CA

CA

MH

I G

AL

LE

RY

40

Psoma’s painting technique consists

of neat and precise brushwork

creating the illusion of reality, giving

way to some more expressive dabs of

colour and line only rarely, in order to

convey the movement of leaves in

the wind or the diffused light

radiating through a curtained

window, for example. It is a

painstaking process that involves

many hours in front of the easel – the

large work Through the Forest took

over two months to be completed for

example. The artist composes her

theme first by creating a collage from

existing material – personal

photographs or magazine cutouts,

stills from films etc, which she then

assembles via Photoshop. She then

translates this ‘processed reality’ into

the medium of paint on canvas. The

preparatory work therefore is totally

contemporary, while the painting

technique of the final work, harks

back to a ‘pre-conceptual’, ‘pre-

expressionist’ ‘pre-modernist’ age,

while Psoma’s women could even be

a tad Pre-Raphaelite. Psoma admits

that she admires the work of the

Renaissance artists, as well as the

work of Lucas Cranach and Hans

Holbein in particular, plus the ‘mood’

of Edward Hopper: “His interest in

light and shadow, the way light falls

on an object intrigues me. He wasn’t

so interested in painting people, but

rather in painting an atmosphere”,

explains Psoma. Certain dusky greens

and grays to be found on Psoma’s

canvases, are reminiscent of Hopper’s

work. Furthermore, one could

ascertain that Psoma’s colours are

not ‘Greek’, and probably reflect on

the artist’s contact with Northern

European climates (her studies in

Berlin).

“Back in 1985, when I went to study

at the Berlin School of Fine Arts,

realism was considered rather

anachronistic. There was the echo of

Neo Expressionism in the air and the

closest thing to representational

painting was that of Gerhard Richter.

There was also a turn towards

abstract art and many at the school

were painting like Cy Twombly”,

explains Psoma. It was against this

backdrop, that she timidly oscillated

between abstraction and

expressionism, feeling however that

“neither expressed me. I wanted

something that would combine the

mind and soul, and for me, that was

realism”. At the age of 23, when she

finished the school, she felt she didn’t

have the maturity to support a turn

towards realism in an art world that

was so opposed to it. “I was always

afraid to present this side of me to

the public, and to say ‘this is what I

am’. But I realized that the only way

to express oneself, is by being true to

oneself. I always wanted to draw and

paint, from a little girl.” So she

decides to go where not many a

contemporary artist dared to –

although one could consider the

New Realists’ exploration of painting

as an influence. However Psoma’s

work is not a raw, clinical, Lucian

Freudian psychoanalysis, but a softer,

more poetic, even cinematographic

one. The silver-screen interests her –

especially the films of Kieslowski and

Tarkovsky, while Von Trier’s heroines

might also be relevant here.

“After the 20th century, where

everything has been done to the

form in art, it’s time to return to the

subject, and to quality”, claims

Psoma, who’s sick and tired of going

to exhibitions and leaving ‘empty’.

Certainly, the visual impact of an

immaculate painting is unbeatable,

and the re-exploration of this

medium – imbuing it with

contemporary thought – is like a

welcome home-start.

Mantalina Psoma’s exhibition at the gallery

Rebecca M. Camhi (44,Konstantinoupoleos

str., Gazi, tel.: 694 7325711,

www.rebeccacamhi.com), is held from 05th

October until 10th November.

Mantalina Psoma’s soul searching

·.

For eclecticism, the act of

collection and

recontextualisation discuss

Katerina Nikou and Em-Kei

Vis

its

42

∂m-Kei lives on Patission Avenue, just

past Galatsiou Street opposite the old

Fix ice factory. The site is a park now;

the factory itself, a fine example of

industrial architecture, was torn down

in 2000, just after the big earthquake.

Only the family house is left, though

there are complications with the

inheritance; maybe that’s why it’s

empty. The park reveals a lack of

architectural planning, but is very

much at one with bustling,

multicultural Kypseli, on whose

fringes it lies.

The view of the park from Em-Kei’s

flat embraces the disorder of the city;

the same irregularity and eclecticism

one finds in her apartment. Em-Kei is

an artist, but a graphic artist, too, and

the traces of her work are everywhere.

Wherever I look in the flat, I see

magazines, books on the sofas and

tables, CDs and all sorts of stuff:

Japonese, robots, dolls in all shapes

and sizes and_of course, artworks, lots

of them; as though the entire space

were a coherently chaotic studio.

Amidst the dolls, the old works, the

books and CDs, we’ve balanced some

cherry tomatoes, cheese and wine on

a stool. There really is no doubting

that lady artists are more hospitable

than their male counterparts.

Her work, too, displays traces of this

continual reference to the act of

collecting. Indeed, recontextualization

is one of her staples. The Para-site

project is all about placing objects

with specific typological features in

spaces where they don’t belong; she’s

interested in giving them a dimension

other than the one we have

associated them with. Which is how

she came to place a plaster-cast of an

egg-box in the Athens Archaeological

Museum, where it could easily be

taken at first glance for a museum

piece. No one knows what happened:

if and when the Museum staff found

it, and how long it elicited visitors’

admiration as an exhibit. Nor was she

interested in finding out. She has

made similar interventions in public

places in London, too, handing out

flyers printed with true stories

borrowed from newspapers.

We talk about artists who have

managed to acquire a specific style

after a period of searching, with the

result that a first reading of their work

references them directly, but can’t

decide whether this was always

beneficial or a mannerism of sorts. For

her part, Em-Kei would like her every

work to differ from what came before

and to call something new to mind.

She hasn’t signed up with a specific

gallery for the time being; it’s not

something she considers particularly

important. What she wants is to be

free of commercial or other

limitations when she creates.

Of course, there are artists who have

become more commercial, though in

each case everything always depends

Visits

Em-Kei, Cabinet (detail), 2006

44

Visits

on the specific circumstances. For

better or for worse, the lack of

institutions in Athens means it is the

galleries that support contemporary

art and serve as a core source of

information on current trends. The

galleries also shape the trends, she

says, quoting the resurgence of

painting and drawing as an example.

She took part in the All that remains is

future show in Patras with two works.

We agree that most of the works in

the exhibition were clearly

aestheticized objects rather than

actions of relational environments,

and that this might reveal a new

preference for a third dimension on

the artists’ part. Em-Kei uses symbols

and ready mades to comment on the

order of things and our social

perceptions of them. In Patras, one of

her works stood in the forecourt, the

other_an installation_in a

display/book case inside the school.

As Em-Kei sees it, schools with a

tradition behind them like the

Arsakeion bestow a social prestige

and power on their old boys and girls

which automatically helps them make

a more dynamic entrance into the

social whole. The work in the school

yard depicts a symbol she herself

constructed dominated by a pair of

dividers and a pencil; it could easily be

the trade mark of some Masonic

group. It was to have been the base

for a bust of a featureless person

wearing a hip hop hood (see issue 5

of ·). Unfortunately, the bust couldn’t

be put in place for technical reasons,

which left the base standing alone

like a votive column.

The display/book case inside the

school she filled with various trophies

along with wigs, clown accessories

and Mediaeval weaponry. Once

again, the collection of objects and

their recontextualization lay at the

heart of her works, which call to mind

the cabinets of curiosities of old. As

she says herself, there is a sense of

death about her works: the trophies

are actually a moment’s

remembrance of peoples’ lives which

they aim to prolong beyond death.

Of course, the logic of collecting is

itself a veiled reminder of death. I say

that the speed and immediacy with

which information can be conveyed

in our society makes it impossible for

us to process and filter it. Em-Kei

agrees: as she sees it, our lives today

are caught between fiction and

reality, and we don’t have the time to

separate what exists from what

doesn’t. That’s one of the strands in

her work, this changing ready made

objects into something different from

what they are.

My gaze alights on the plate with the

triangular pieces of cheese and it

crosses my mind that nibbles like

these are themselves a form of

collection, an edible cabinet of

curiosities. ·.