Inertia & Art
Erik Hagoort
1
Contemporary art cannot do without inertia. Art has an air of the stubborn, an ability to stay in place or keep on track. In spite of current rhetorics favouring art’s changeability and fleetingness, contemporary artists keep expressing a certain measure of opposition towards change and distraction. The manner in which artists develop this ability through their work and attitude, to what extent, with what effect and intentions: these are the issues which will be addressed in St. Petersburg, Russia (2006) and in Amsterdam, the Netherlands (2008).
3
In common parlance, inertia has gained a negative connotation. Inert stands for unwieldy, sluggish, languid or passive. In contemporary art, calling an art work inert is seldom taken as a compliment. Although the days in which avant-gardes dictated the art world are long past, the notion that art always has to offer something ´new´ or, rather, ´something different´ is still alive and kicking. Today, this changeability is no longer looked upon as a succession of styles and movements, but rather as a dynamic and fleeting ‘anything goes’. As a result, anticipating changeability has become even more important in art.
At the same time, art is still expected to shy away from change and fleetingness. Viewers want art to take root, even if just for a couple of years. For art to help clarify, to incite critical judgement, to help reach a deeper understanding, or gain peace and quiet. But in order to do so, artists need to keep on track, to persevere in what they are working on.
5
St. Petersburg is the ideal place to embark on this examination. In the last decade here, as in the rest of Russia, it was matter of weathering the extreme social, political and economic changes. In St. Petersburg, artists felt the need to take up a position in their work within the field of change, by adopting an attitude of opposition. The Russian language has a word for this attitude: ‘inertnost’. ’Inertnost’ stands for a personal attitude of inertia.
This attitude was expressed in widely divergent fascinations: for regression and aphasia (Sergei Bugaev Afrika), for death (Yevgeni Yufit en Vladimir Kustov), for antiquity and Byzanthium (Olga Tobreluts), for social realism (Georgii Gurianov), for nineteenth century classicism, czardom and the Russian Orthodox religion (Timur Novikov). However, ‘inertnost’ wasn’t limited to St. Petersburg. In Moscow the artists’ group of ‘Inspection Medical Hermeneutics’ intentionally cut themselves off from the outside world in order to preserve a subcultural form of art, striving to resist the influence of the West in Russia. Irony, coquetry and mystification were not foreign to all these artists. They also happily took advantage of clichés about the contrasts between East and West, to subsequently undermine these afterwards.
7
Nowadays, the Russian art world seems to have less difficulty in complying with rhetorics of Western art, and this also holds good for the most ‘defiant’ among the said artists. In the meantime, Russia’s social life has somewhat calmed down, the political situation under the reign of Putin has even more or less lapsed into a coma. Within this context, adopting an attitude of ‘inertnost’ seems less opportune. However, to simply enter this attitude of defiance into the annals of art history would be wrong. On the contrary, now that ‘inertnost’ seems no longer an absolute necessity within the Russian context, the time has to come to hold this attitude against the light and examine its importance thoroughly.