This is not really a direct response to the exhibition at Warehouse 421, nor a direct response to published articles, whether in the Gazelle or the National, nor a direct response to conversations that have taken place either with me or around me. It is a set of thoughts in response to all of these conversations, points of view, conflicts, agreements. In it I may not answer any of the questions directly, or at all, but I hope to engage in an ongoing dialogue, revealing probably a bit about myself and hopefully learning about you, changing both of us along the way. THE CUMULATIVE NATURE OF KNOWLEDGE.
I was recently in Greece visiting the site where the first Olympic Games took place from the 8th Century BCE. Compared to other archaeological sites in Athens it is low key with very little tourist infrastructure other than a small museum, a few kiosks and small ropes indicating you should stay off the ruins. My first thoughts were around why is this not more developed, are they not proud of the founding of the Olympic Games; then the thoughts quickly changed to, my this is so nice, no crowds, you are left to wander by yourself with minimal intrusions from signage, over complicated experience design, no one wearing headphones being told where to stand and what to look at, where best to take a photograph that would look like everyone else’s. Then we needed a rest room, it was basic, with a giant step into it that would have been an issue for less able-bodied people.
This question of intervention is something that I think of all the time. When should one intervene? When is it too much intervention? If we did not intervene, would it just deteriorate? Could the general public be trusted to look after it or would it be abused? Would it be a tragedy of the commons or a comedy of the commons? Who decides?
There is no holiday from history.
Visiting historical places always has me fantasizing about what it was like in those days. We try to make sense of ancient Greek life in the context in which it took place and not through the conceptual frameworks of subsequent centuries. This may be useful if what we want is to understand ancient Greek life, but if we are interested in understanding today’s knowledge, how it emerged from the past, it is precisely these relations between past worlds and now that matter.
We seem to see the past as disconnected from our present, and certainly a distant world from our future. We talk about schisms and ruptures in society and development of knowledge and understanding where an old theory is abandoned for a new theory. However, I believe in connectedness. I believe that evolution happens across beliefs, across cultures, across peoples. I believe that borders in real life are remarkably porous -- between beliefs, theories, disciplines, cultures and peoples. I also believe that our knowledge is the result of the continuous development of this dense web of exchange.
In this current moment I am immersed in Greek history, knowledge, culture, peoples, beliefs. There is such a rich cultural legacy, but I see many things in it, many influences from other cultures, beliefs and peoples. I see aspects from Indian, Persian, Arabic cultures, I see influences from contemporary American culture, I see how signs and products have adapted for the local populous, I see how these same products have been adapted for a tourist audience. I notice this particularly in the food and the language – partly because I am interested in this, so my food gaze and my own biases reveal different things to me. The Greek Salad has much less salt than in other places, I notice the chef both engaging with historical local grains, while adding in zaatar herbs from another place. I see this continuous exploration of the new, (or certainly new in this context), continuously changing and developing.
We seem to forget the cumulative aspects of knowledge – that they are not isolated, or disconnected, but complex responsive processes of relating between peoples. It is from these iterated communicative interactions between people that we see patterns of power relations and ideologies as the basis of the plans and intentions of individual persons. There is no such thing as a single-issue problem because we do not live single issue lives. The challenge is to hold on to complexity rather than looking for simplistic explanations, to not reduce acts, especially art, to objects and commodities, forgetting that they are at heart outcomes of lived human experiences.
We as an audience, also have a role in the reading of art. An artist works by looking long and hard at something and then working long and hard to tell us what they saw. This begs a number of questions, especially concerning the gaze, the mental models, the prejudgment that the artist brings to that gaze. In the act, they also reveal not only what they see, but also something about themselves.
The same goes for the audience. Many have argued that art is brought to life by an audience, that it is the empathy of the viewer that animates, literally bringing the art to life. So, there is also a responsibility on the audience to look long and hard, but also to suspend some of their own cynicism and perhaps see what the artist sees. To look generously. There is a lot more than the capacity to notice details with obsessive attention. There is also that capacity to see beauty. Ethics applies not only to the artist, but also to the viewer.
From a hermeneutic perspective, we all see different things; we make sense of things differently. For some there is a brutal act, for others, it is a cleansing. These paradoxical viewpoints often co-exist. It is difficult to have creation without some form of destruction. It is difficult to optimize for everything. Even justice has issues. To paraphrase Isaiah Berlin: sometimes justice for the wolf means death for the sheep.
I work on the simple structure of what do I need to know, what do I need to do and what do I need to hope. It is the latter that I find in this data driven world that we seem to forget. Hope is an essential part of life. Critique without hope is blunt and didactic. Hope without critique is blind. Do I hope that we do not lose some of the essence of Mina Zayed? Absolutely. Do I hope that more buildings will burn down? Absolutely not. Do I think something needs to be done? Absolutely. Do I hope it will be sensitive and for the people? I sure hope so. I do know that for any action there has to be some acting, and so it is important that our voices are heard. But that they are heard in a way that gives us a way forward, a way that cuts across cultures, beliefs and agendas; a way that influences thoughts, strategies and plans.
Dialogue, ie conversations across (cultures, disciplines, peoples, beliefs etc) is essential. As long as there is dialogue, there is hope.
Pradeep Sharma
28th June 2021
1,192 words.