< Back Treading a line 15 Aug 2020 Sarah Bushra Mekbib Tadesse Emperor Menelik IIPhotographer: Mekbib Tadesse On June 30, the second day after protests broke out in Addis Ababa, and following the assassination of the Oromo people’s cultural icon and musician, Hacaaluu Hundeessaa, the streets in 4 kilo – a government district where Parliament, the Prime Minister’s office, and the Palace seats are located – were quiet and still. A stark contrast to the day before. Occasional voices broke out, echoing between low rise buildings and across the relatively wide-set street before falling onto our ears: “they are coming, they are coming.” A warning call, to which the sparse occupants of the street responded by readying themselves, brandishing sticks of all varieties, alert and equipped to ward off the belligerent youth from advancing towards the city center. Oromo is the largest ethnic group and historically marginalized community in Ethiopia. In 2016, a youth movement emerged by the name Qero , meaning “young unmarried men,” to claim political power and overthrow the hegemonic cultural and social structure. In the recent protests, the Amhara ethnic group were the intended targets of stone pelting, violent killings, and the burning and bashing of businesses, for being Neftegna . This word literally translates to “riflemen,” but has recently became synonymous to “colonizer,” referencing Ethiopia’s long-standing Imperial rule – spanning over ten centuries, with predominantly North Ethiopian Emperors (Amhara and Tigray) governing a system which favored them as landowners. When the protests began on June 29, a morning after artist, Hacaaluu Hundessaa was murdered, the Oromo youth headed to the Ghiorgis Roundabout in Addis Ababa, to topple over the statue of Emperor Menelik II – depicted gracefully riding a horse, a symbol of oppression for the Oromo resistance. As novice beneficiaries of the freedom of expression (or its illusions), as a community, many Ethiopians still stutter when trying to exercise it. Mistaking their newly found liberty for supremacy, most of those who have found a platform to voice their criticism – either on social media or on public forums – have veered to a language of hate. This new mode of communication has morphed the meanings of words that were previously harmless attributes of ethnic identities, to triggers of emotional and physical turmoil. It was particularly difficult for me, a millennial with no vested interest in politics, to reflect on the recent unrests taking place all over Ethiopia. Primarily because I had insulated myself from Ethiopian political discourse, falsely assuming its ethnic-based linings were somebody else’s concern. Politics here refers to governance, and the racket among parties as they contest for ruling power. Having grown up in an environment where such politics is discussed in hushed tones (if ever), I had neither the language nor the insight to comb through the nuances that led to the current turn of events. But when hurled into the conflict, unsuspecting and without pretext, I couldn’t escape its confrontational reality. Following the consequences of the pandemic, I immersed myself in the online world, embracing the changes openly and with vigilance. On the 29th of June, when the network connectivity stopped working, I imagined I had simply run out of my package and went to the nearest telecom office to top-up my card. On my way there, a friend called to warn me to stay at home upon rumors of protests breaking out, incited by the murder of Hacaalluu. A lot of people in my network also had their first warning call from a family member or a friend. These types of oral stories becomes the only source of information when the government shuts down the internet for three weeks. Someone who knows someone, who has a friend living in Shashemene, says his neighbor’s house was burnt down. There is something mythical about the way these kinds of stories circulate, with a tint of otherworldliness that at times comforts, and other times, terrifies. Mass media coverage during the time of the protest was no exception to the theatrics of mysticism. Radios and TVs chimed with an endless instrumental tune, with the latter accompanied by images of Hacaaluu superimposed with a picture of a burning candle. Keguro Macharia, a Kenyan literary scholar, tweets about the benefits of myths in times of collective duress. Referring particularly to the pandemic and the power of myths to alleviate the pressure from a lack of economic means within certain communities, where factually incorrect narratives circulate, he exemplifies this claim with: “ ‘black tea helps against the virus,’ might help cope with a reduced capacity to buy milk…” Ethiopian Prime Minister, Dr. Abiy Ahmed, seems to think along the same lines when addressing the public on the day of Haccaaluu Hundeesaa’s assassination, citing the popular myth of “Sene ena Segno” – that Mondays in the month of June (Sené, the tenth month in Ethiopian Calendar), are prone to host unfortunate incidents. Perhaps implying it’s not particularly the moral decadence of society that resulted in the death of 239 people, and the loss of billions in birr, but rather, an unescapable fate set up within this popular myth. Nguigi wa Thing’o writes in his introduction to Hama Tuma’s The Case of the Socialist Witch-Doctor and Other Stories saying: “Ethiopia is the land of myths.” He admires the stories in the following pages (which were all set during Ethiopia’s Red Terror period) for their particular poignancy – propped as vignettes, unassuming of the mist in which they exist – simply framing their peculiar reality in minute details. The most wide-spread accounts of protests were unencumbered by context or the burden of proof, leaving it up to the audience to interpret and arrive at the underlining meaning. As I tried to grapple my way for a sound strand of narrative within this haze, I remembered Konjit Seyoum and her practice of reading a line. She’s simultaneously an artist and artisan – weaving stories that unravel from the multiverse of her lived experiences, as the movement of her hands materialize a thin white line from a nebulous cloud of cotton. It is this line that delineates the embodied from the performed identity. This line which borders the surge of young men who flood the streets, between those of us on the sidelines pacing in agitation, wavering between clemency and anger. It is this thin, intricate line that separates the myths from the facts, the tales from historical accounts. I finally found a friend to accompany me to the telecom, still unaware that it was in fact the government who had shut down the internet. We walked up the streets and suddenly came face to face with the stampede of wide-eyed young men, holding heavy-duty sticks, unmistakably handled as weapons. In a traditional dance of the Oromo people, the men sport a sturdy stick, much in the same way as the men in front of us did. I remembered the dancer standing next to me: as he once struggled to learn this dance, teeth clenched, sweat beads trickling, launching the stick up and down to the rhythm of a heavy staccato breathing. Filmed by Sarah Bushra Dancer: Dawit Seto Location: Fekat Circus August 2020 Addis Ababa Sarah Bushra is a multi-disciplinary artist based in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, working primarily with a hybrid of text and images. Previous Next

< Back THE CULTURAL INTERWEAVING OF CHINA AND THE BALKANS: A TEXTUAL ANALYSIS OF ARTISTIC EXCHANGES UNDER THE BRI 3 Nov 2021 Marija Glavaš This text is the second in a series of close studies examining the cultural exchanges between China and the Balkan region under the BRI, taking art [events and exchanges] as its main focal point. In the first text , I focused on the ambitions and challenges of artistic exchanges in general, using contemporary Slovenia as an example of bad praxis. In this text, I will focus on Chinese art and provide a textual analysis of some artifacts and archives from the events and exhibitions previously mapped in my first contribution. As an anthropology student, I however lack the proper knowledge and tools to read these images adequately. Thus, I held an open-ended interview with colleagues Xu Tiantian and Ke Qiwen from Rockbund Art Museum and Nikita Yingqian Cai from Times Museum. Both of these museums are committed to presenting and researching contemporary art and they are partners of the As you go… inquiry. They have deep insight into the contemporary art context of China that I am learning about. Together we have read some of the images and they kindly shared their personal thoughts on these projects with me. I must note that these museums did not participate in any such projects under the BRI – most of the analyzed exchanges were happening through public Chinese institutions. As stated in the introductory text my main question was whether these exchanges live up to their potential of shifting away from classical national narratives and providing a common ground for different cultural identities. Before we dwell on the individual artifacts, events, and exchanges it is important to understand the context in which they are taking place. The BRI is mostly known for Chinese infrastructure investments in Asia, Africa, and (Central and Eastern) Europe. It is an initiative that is striving for both economic growth and economic connectivity amongst participating countries. These activities are usually in the spotlight raising both praise and condemnation. However, these investments are not the only activities under the BRI. Another important aspect of it are the artistic and cultural exchanges which are rarely discussed, praised or criticized. This may appear trivial at first as most people simply consider art as a form of entertainment and not much more beyond that. Art, however, when shared internationally, plays an important role in our perceptions of one another – it has the power to bring us closer together, realize our common points, and appreciate our differences. Considering the ever-rising xenophobia this is not negligible. On the example of China specifically, we are currently witnessing a concerning growth of hate towards the country and its people because of the Covid-19 pandemic. The novel coronavirus outbreak that could’ve happened anywhere played perfectly not just into many stereotypical narratives about the Chinese people, but also into political conspiracy theories brought up by cold war propaganda. These feelings of hate are not coincidental – they are the product of intentional alienation, lack of cultural worldliness, and apathy towards who we consider an Other. In this context, intercultural artistic exchanges can help bridge the divide and this is what the artistic exchanges under the BRI are ought to do. Namely, the aim of these exchanges is to form deeper bonds amongst participating countries and their citizens. As noted in my first contribution where I mapped cross-institutional artistic exchanges between China and Balkan countries, it is overtly stated in most exhibitions that their goal is to bring their cultures closer together through knowledge and understanding. However, they [artistic exchanges] often appear as a mere political masquerade with no real content to them, as the images presented don’t really represent contemporary Chinese identities. This opens up very important questions – do they live up to their supposed potential? Are they adding to positive societal change? Is there space for improvement? Below are my thoughts after conducting a workshop with a few colleagues from the Rockbund Art Museum in Shanghai and Times Museum in Guangzhou who shared their impressions with me. Due to limited visual material not all exhibitions could be used. The first thing one notices when looking at these exhibitions is that they are heavily centered around tradition. For instance, let us look at the Chinese Festival of Lights held in Belgrade in 2020. “Chinese Festival of Lights”, picture by Đorđe Tomić, 2020 These lantern festivals appear to be some of the most popular Chinese exhibitions all around the world. The lanterns are placed as theme parks and as such attract audiences that wouldn’t necessarily enter museums and galleries, giving them much more reach than your usual exhibition. The concept of lantern festivals reaches back to ancient China, and while the lanterns exhibited in Belgrade don’t resemble traditional Chinese lanterns, they portray very characteristic Chinese symbols. We see dragons, bamboo, hand fans, pandas etc. These festivals aren’t necessarily bad for one’s first encounter with Chinese art, especially since they are very inviting for broader audiences, but they don’t provide much more substance than what the average person would already think about when thinking about China. “Exhibiton of Contemporary Chinese Painting”, picture by Tanjung/Tanja Valić, 2019 Even when we look at the exhibitions of contemporary artists, such as the Ink Imagery exhibition held in Kuća Legata (Belgrade) in 2019, we see a lot of traditional influences. While some techniques, shapes, and perspectives presented in this exhibition aren’t traditional, the symbolism is. In the picture above we see a waterfall, the red sun, and a pine tree. In the picture below we can see cherry blossoms and other floral symbols. All of these symbols are very common in traditional Chinese ink painting. For foreigners whose eyes aren’t trained in Chinese art these could easily be understood as classical Chinese paintings and not paintings created by contemporary artists. “Exhibition of Contemporary Chinese Painting”, picture by Tanjung/Tanja Valić, 2019 Such images are usually exhibited in state-owned institutions following narrow and strict narratives. From religious motives to mythological creatures – these paintings present an image of China that is very one-sided and static. We see a lot of bird-and-flower paintings and mountain-and-water paintings. Ever repeating compositions. We don’t get to see any diversity, just strictly canonical images, which have, through repetition, lost all of its meanings. Foreigners who are only subjected to this type of art very easily fall into the trap of thinking that this is all there is to China. And this is common to most of the Chinese art in these exhibitions held in the Balkan region. It is important to note that in the Balkan region, knowledge of Chinese art is very limited. We don’t see much of it exhibited in our museums and galleries, we don’t watch Chinese movies on television, we don’t hear Chinese music on the radio and we don’t learn about it extensively in schools. These limits make it hard to look at the art we do encounter critically. We don’t question the images that we see, the stories they are telling, and the gaps present in them. “Enthusiasm for Ink Wash Painting”, picture by T. Saletović, 2019 “Enthusiasm for Ink Wash Painting”, picture by T. Saletović, 2019 Some of the exhibitions were also historical in nature, showcasing historical art and important artifacts. Such exhibitions naturally bring tradition and historic culture closer to their audiences and for building intercultural understanding and empathy this is just as important as getting to know the contemporary identities, ideas, and characteristics. Yet, it seems that these historical images remain the only accessible knowledge of China and the Chinese people. Lord Baopu explains how to stay away from heat, 1644-1911, ink on silk It appears that what is provided in these artistic exchanges is just one fixed image of China. An image that hasn’t changed in ages, that’s full of gaps and that’s suppressing diversity. As such it cannot adequately represent Chinese identities, especially to foreigners who often lack the knowledge to separate reality from a constructed image. As mentioned above, in the Balkan region most people are very distanced from Chinese culture.They only discuss China in the context of politics which only distorts their views more. Exhibiting these ancient, historical, mythological and religious symbols furthers this mystification instead of providing knowledge and consequently enabling understanding. As Xu Tiantian, Ke Qiwen, and Nikita Yingqian Cai noted there is a big disconnect in these exhibitions from what China really is. There is not just one China and one Chinese identity. Based on carefully selected and distinctly narrated historical images, this forced oneness perfectly resembles classical nationalistic narratives, just served on a nicely decorated plate. This disconnect between representation and reality makes it hard for these exchanges to bridge the divide between the Balkan and Chinese people since knowledge always stays limited and carefully directed. To truly grasp the essence of a different culture the free transmission of knowledge is of utmost importance. And not just knowledge on history – also knowledge on the day-to-day lives of the Chinese people. In conclusion – these exhibitions, although presented as bridges between nations, only further promote nationalistic narratives. These may not enter the realms of radical nationalism, however, they also don’t surpass national conservatism. While the exhibitions held under the BRI provide audiences with entertaining and educational art, they don’t appear to fulfill their purpose of bridging the divide they acknowledge. Marija Glavaš , student of Culturology at the Faculty of Social Sciences in Ljubljana Previous Next

Veronika Dashkova < Back Gigantic dwarfs of Lake Balkhash: Journey into a microscopic world of phytoplankton. Veronika Dashkova “Nature has created a wealth of wondrous forms whose beauty and diversity way exceed anything that has been created by man”. Ernst Haeckel What do you see standing on the lake, river or sea shore and looking attentively at the water surface in front of you? You will surely see the colour of the water, the moving or steel surface, reflection of the sky, trees, buildings and other objects. If the water is transparent enough, you might see some floating bugs, small fish in the water column and bottom with sand, stones, mud or even corals. However, there is much more that our human eye cannot catch, a tremendous underwater world full of tiny microscopic organisms called plankton. These planktonic organisms drift in the water column, following a current anywhere it brings them. Plankton populate almost all water bodies on the Earth, from small ponds and lakes to the oceans. Although they are invisible to a naked eye, they play a gigantic role in the functioning of a whole aquatic ecosystem. As all terrestrial plants, phytoplankton use sun energy to synthesize organic elements from inorganic through the process of photosynthesis, and produce about 50% of all oxygen on the Earth. It is believed that the activity of ancient phytoplankton Cyanobacteria resulted in the rise of oxygen in the atmosphere and oceans around 2,4 billions years ago, which facilitated the diversification of Life on our planet. Diatomea. Ernst Haeckel. Kunstformen der Natur (1904). http://www.silentplankton.com/Gallery/View/Haeckel But that is not all. Every cell of phytoplankton is uniquely shaped and coloured, forming an incredible diversity of beautiful forms. Mother Nature created astonishing artwork, that blows up the imagination and fascinates with the perfect geometry of a cell structure architecture. Likewise, a 19th century German biologist, Ernst Haeckel, was so fascinated by the beauty of these forms and inspired to publish graphical illustrations of plankton in a monograph Kunstformen der Natur (Art Forms in Nature) in 1904. Images of phytoplankton from Lake Balkhash (10x magnification) Not an exception, Lake Balkhash is inhabited by hundreds forms (species) of phytoplankton. Covering the territory of 15,730 sq. kilometers, Lake Balkhash is one of the largest endorheic lakes in the world, enclosed inside the continent without a connection to the ocean. This feature makes the lake susceptible to climate change mediated or man-made impact. The strongest example of the fragility of endorheic lakes and the dependence on human activity is the current fate of the Aral Sea, a similar lake located in the arid region. You can think of it as a cyclic process: any substantial and long-standing change brought by the environment, whether it is natural or man-made, mediate changes in the aquatic trophic webs, which in turn will affect the quality of life of local human communities and the economy of a whole region. For example, phytoplankton are the base of an aquatic trophic web, responsible for primary production and serving as food for larger plankton and fish, fueling the energy up to the higher trophic levels. The availability, composition and quantity of phytoplankton will therefore affect the diversity and quantity of fish stock in the lake, which is important for us. Images of phytoplankton from Lake Balkhash (10x magnification) The unique symbiosis of freshwater and brackish water and availability of micro-niches in the lake creates a ground for co-existence of various phytoplankton communities. There are about 400 different species of phytoplankton found in Lake Balkhash spanning taxonomic groups from Bacillariophyta, Cryptophyta, Haptophyta, Dinoflagellata, Chlorophyta, Charophyta, Euglenida, Cyanobacteria and others. Each species has found a place in the lake with favourable conditions of water with appropriate range of salinity, pH, oxygen level, organic and inorganic substances. For example, phytoplankton community of freshwater sites in the western part of the lake is completely different from the community inhabiting brackish water in the eastern part. You may think of phytoplankton as a natural indicator of what is going on outside. Despite their small microscopic size they sense and reflect any changes ongoing in the surrounding environment by changing their cell shapes, colour, size and abundance. By identifying the composition of the phytoplankton community, we can judge about the state of the ecosystems and presence of disturbants. Some phytoplankton are even able to withstand thermal and heavy metal pollution associated with the activity of the metallurgic plant nearby the city of Balkhash.Hidden in the water column, these organisms have always been witnessing different changes the lake was experiencing and have always been interacting with them. Expedition to Lake Balkhash. June 2016. Veronika Dashkova is a professional ecologist, PhD candidate in ecology, Nazarbayev University, Nur-Sultan, Kazakhstan. Previous Next

Mentors Program Participant Activities Tonight we invite you to encounter a collective archive of the 2022 What could/should curating do educational programme, which took place in Belgrade and other locations around the Post-Yugoslav region, between September and December this year. The departure point for this archive is a proposal by Biljana Ćirić, program curator and facilitator, to consider the means by which the discussions, events, inquiries and relationships developed during this time might be recorded or documented. Archiving is never neutral. Determinations are always made—by individuals, by collectives, by collecting institutions—about what knowledge is worth saving, the means by which knowledge is indexed, housed and cared for, who has access and on what terms. Within the framework of an alternative educational platform—with a loose and evolving curriculum, and no formalised method of assessment or grading—this exercise presents an opportunity to consider what alternative measures we might allow ourselves for the production of knowledge when freed from institutional modes of transmission and circulation. As such, these archives—both individually and collectively—do not simply record a series of shared (and at times differing) experiences. They include questions around how the embodied, linguistic, political, intimate, relational nature of experience and remembering, ranging in scope from the personal, to the national. Each contribution is informed by the “baggage” we carried with us, as a group of individuals from many different geographic and cultural contexts, many of whom had little relationship with Belgrade, Serbia or the Balkan region prior to this course. This “baggage” includes our different relationships to contemporary art’s infrastructures; our different fields of knowledge and networks of relationships; cultural and linguistic differences; differing relations to histories of colonialism, resource extraction and capitalist exploitation; and varying habits of thought, modes of making, inhabiting and formulating questions about the world. Through differing strategies of presentation and circulation, we hope to open up questions about what we have in common, as well as what separates us; what of ourselves is dispersed, and what is withheld. But the physical “archive” we share with you tonight is only a part of a wider set of relationships, experiences, idea exchanges, occasional encounters, gossip and experimenting. Tonight we celebrate the beauty and fragility of these moments. Be our guests at the two tables. Read silently. Read aloud. Whisper. Describe what you see. Share what you feel. Eat. Drink. Embrace. This archive is staged as something living, developing and transformational, ever evolving as our moments with you. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. We hope it’s not the end, but only a stop on the way. WC/SCD 2022 Adelina, Anastasia, Ginevra, Giuglia, Jelena, Karly, Lera, Sabine, Simon < Educational Program Participants >

Program Participant Activities Program Participant Activities Tonight we invite you to encounter a collective archive of the 2022 What could/should curating do educational programme, which took place in Belgrade and other locations around the Post-Yugoslav region, between September and December this year. The departure point for this archive is a proposal by Biljana Ćirić, program curator and facilitator, to consider the means by which the discussions, events, inquiries and relationships developed during this time might be recorded or documented. Archiving is never neutral. Determinations are always made—by individuals, by collectives, by collecting institutions—about what knowledge is worth saving, the means by which knowledge is indexed, housed and cared for, who has access and on what terms. Within the framework of an alternative educational platform—with a loose and evolving curriculum, and no formalised method of assessment or grading—this exercise presents an opportunity to consider what alternative measures we might allow ourselves for the production of knowledge when freed from institutional modes of transmission and circulation. As such, these archives—both individually and collectively—do not simply record a series of shared (and at times differing) experiences. They include questions around how the embodied, linguistic, political, intimate, relational nature of experience and remembering, ranging in scope from the personal, to the national. Each contribution is informed by the “baggage” we carried with us, as a group of individuals from many different geographic and cultural contexts, many of whom had little relationship with Belgrade, Serbia or the Balkan region prior to this course. This “baggage” includes our different relationships to contemporary art’s infrastructures; our different fields of knowledge and networks of relationships; cultural and linguistic differences; differing relations to histories of colonialism, resource extraction and capitalist exploitation; and varying habits of thought, modes of making, inhabiting and formulating questions about the world. Through differing strategies of presentation and circulation, we hope to open up questions about what we have in common, as well as what separates us; what of ourselves is dispersed, and what is withheld. But the physical “archive” we share with you tonight is only a part of a wider set of relationships, experiences, idea exchanges, occasional encounters, gossip and experimenting. Tonight we celebrate the beauty and fragility of these moments. Be our guests at the two tables. Read silently. Read aloud. Whisper. Describe what you see. Share what you feel. Eat. Drink. Embrace. This archive is staged as something living, developing and transformational, ever evolving as our moments with you. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. We hope it’s not the end, but only a stop on the way. WC/SCD 2022 Adelina, Anastasia, Ginevra, Giuglia, Jelena, Karly, Lera, Sabine, Simon < Educational Program Participants >

Educational Program  Program Participant Activities Tonight we invite you to encounter a collective archive of the 2022 What could/should curating do educational programme, which took place in Belgrade and other locations around the Post-Yugoslav region, between September and December this year. The departure point for this archive is a proposal by Biljana Ćirić, program curator and facilitator, to consider the means by which the discussions, events, inquiries and relationships developed during this time might be recorded or documented. Archiving is never neutral. Determinations are always made—by individuals, by collectives, by collecting institutions—about what knowledge is worth saving, the means by which knowledge is indexed, housed and cared for, who has access and on what terms. Within the framework of an alternative educational platform—with a loose and evolving curriculum, and no formalised method of assessment or grading—this exercise presents an opportunity to consider what alternative measures we might allow ourselves for the production of knowledge when freed from institutional modes of transmission and circulation. As such, these archives—both individually and collectively—do not simply record a series of shared (and at times differing) experiences. They include questions around how the embodied, linguistic, political, intimate, relational nature of experience and remembering, ranging in scope from the personal, to the national. Each contribution is informed by the “baggage” we carried with us, as a group of individuals from many different geographic and cultural contexts, many of whom had little relationship with Belgrade, Serbia or the Balkan region prior to this course. This “baggage” includes our different relationships to contemporary art’s infrastructures; our different fields of knowledge and networks of relationships; cultural and linguistic differences; differing relations to histories of colonialism, resource extraction and capitalist exploitation; and varying habits of thought, modes of making, inhabiting and formulating questions about the world. Through differing strategies of presentation and circulation, we hope to open up questions about what we have in common, as well as what separates us; what of ourselves is dispersed, and what is withheld. But the physical “archive” we share with you tonight is only a part of a wider set of relationships, experiences, idea exchanges, occasional encounters, gossip and experimenting. Tonight we celebrate the beauty and fragility of these moments. Be our guests at the two tables. Read silently. Read aloud. Whisper. Describe what you see. Share what you feel. Eat. Drink. Embrace. This archive is staged as something living, developing and transformational, ever evolving as our moments with you. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. We hope it’s not the end, but only a stop on the way. WC/SCD 2022 Adelina, Anastasia, Ginevra, Giuglia, Jelena, Karly, Lera, Sabine, Simon < Educational Program Participants >

Events Program Participant Activities Tonight we invite you to encounter a collective archive of the 2022 What could/should curating do educational programme, which took place in Belgrade and other locations around the Post-Yugoslav region, between September and December this year. The departure point for this archive is a proposal by Biljana Ćirić, program curator and facilitator, to consider the means by which the discussions, events, inquiries and relationships developed during this time might be recorded or documented. Archiving is never neutral. Determinations are always made—by individuals, by collectives, by collecting institutions—about what knowledge is worth saving, the means by which knowledge is indexed, housed and cared for, who has access and on what terms. Within the framework of an alternative educational platform—with a loose and evolving curriculum, and no formalised method of assessment or grading—this exercise presents an opportunity to consider what alternative measures we might allow ourselves for the production of knowledge when freed from institutional modes of transmission and circulation. As such, these archives—both individually and collectively—do not simply record a series of shared (and at times differing) experiences. They include questions around how the embodied, linguistic, political, intimate, relational nature of experience and remembering, ranging in scope from the personal, to the national. Each contribution is informed by the “baggage” we carried with us, as a group of individuals from many different geographic and cultural contexts, many of whom had little relationship with Belgrade, Serbia or the Balkan region prior to this course. This “baggage” includes our different relationships to contemporary art’s infrastructures; our different fields of knowledge and networks of relationships; cultural and linguistic differences; differing relations to histories of colonialism, resource extraction and capitalist exploitation; and varying habits of thought, modes of making, inhabiting and formulating questions about the world. Through differing strategies of presentation and circulation, we hope to open up questions about what we have in common, as well as what separates us; what of ourselves is dispersed, and what is withheld. But the physical “archive” we share with you tonight is only a part of a wider set of relationships, experiences, idea exchanges, occasional encounters, gossip and experimenting. Tonight we celebrate the beauty and fragility of these moments. Be our guests at the two tables. Read silently. Read aloud. Whisper. Describe what you see. Share what you feel. Eat. Drink. Embrace. This archive is staged as something living, developing and transformational, ever evolving as our moments with you. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. We hope it’s not the end, but only a stop on the way. WC/SCD 2022 Adelina, Anastasia, Ginevra, Giuglia, Jelena, Karly, Lera, Sabine, Simon < Educational Program Participants >

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities WCSCD 2025/2026 educational program lecture series Lecture by Toby Upson A practice of Artwriting Time October 3d , 2025, 19:00 Venue: SKUP Novi Sad Folding A.V. Marraccini's approach to criticism into Anne Carson’s notion of desire as well as Bruce Hainley’s practice, this lecture will explore 'commensal' approaches to writing. Rather than a mode of writing 'about' a thing, 'writing to' or 'with' a thing, this approach recognises the innate agency of a thing, asking a writer to enter into a relationship with it and to write that space. This is not about making the abstract residues of a dreamt-up relationship visible; it is about manifesting the affective spark that runs between bodies, thereby allowing others to enter into this relationship or at least to know why it has come to be. In this way, writers embracing a commensal approach work through an essayistic sensibility, giving this relational space enough of a body to withstand a trial. Whenever I mention the essay form, I am always reminded of the Goethe quote that opens Adorno's ‘The Essay as Form’: “Destined to see what is illuminated, not the light.” By dwelling in a space of desire, writers embracing a commensal approach do this illuminative work inside out. Toby Upson is the mentor of the WCSCD educational program 2025/2026, and his lecture is organized as part of the educational program public encounters in collaboration with SKUP and Sok Cooperative. Lecture will be in English Toby Üpson is a writer currently based in Glasgow (Scotland, UK). Stemming from an interest in how we/he experiences everyday life, Üpson's practices uses forms of artwriting and creative nonfiction to explore the interdependencies of being. As an arts worker, Üpson's writing has appeared in international publications including Art Monthly, e-flux Education, émergent magazine, FAD_ and Garageland, he has also produced commissioned texts for artists, museums and galleries such as Belmacz, Camden Arts Center, Charleston, the Gerald Moore Gallery as well as Cooke Latham Gallery, amongst others. Alongside these more standard formats, Üpson’s creative writing has been published by La chaise jaune and Pilot Press as well as through galleries and museums such as The Warburg Institute. Between 2023 and 2024 Üpson was a Faculty Member of the Metabolic Museum-University based at KW Institute for Contemporary Art, Berlin, where he co-convened the debating chamber “BREATH — Figureheads and Emancipation”. < Mentors Educational Program How to Apply >

Events Events 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 Future Light: or is A New Enlightenment Worth Considering? | Maria Lind Comradeship: Curating Art, and Politics in Post-Socialist Europe | Zdenka Badovinac What Could/Should the Institution Do? | Ares Shporta < Participants Educational Program Programs >

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities The Decolonial Possibility by Charles Esche Charles Esche Venue: Salon of the Museum of Contemporary Art (14 Pariska Street) Date: November 6th 2019 18:00 Decolonial theory as developed over the past 15-20 years has recently seen a huge surge in interest. While some of this interest has simply been fashionable, decoloniality does seem to provide a useful description of some aspects of our current condition. In particular, it addresses the virulence of universalist assumptions in much western theory and questions the reliability of thinking from and through the West, however critically. The development of the idea of coloniality or the colonial matrix of power is also a useful tool in avoiding some of the divisive and essentialising discussions around identity politics without reverting to a white supremacist position. In particular, it perceives possibility in the communal as a way to think beyond the divisions of human-human; human-animal; human-earth. In this lecture Charles Esche will present his view on the possibilities that decolonial thinking can bring to organizations like Modern and Contemporary Art Museums using the Van Abbemuseum in Eindhoven as a concrete example and critical case study. About Speaker: Charles Esche is director of Van Abbemuseum, Eindhoven; professor of contemporary art and curating at Central Saint Martins, London and co-director of Afterall Journal and Books. He teaches on the Exhibition Studies MRes course at CSM, and at Jan van Eyck Academie, Maastricht. Outwith the museum, he (co) curated Le Musée Égaré, Kunsthall Oslo 2017 and Printemps de Septembre, Toulouse 2016; Jakarta Biennale 2015; 31st Sao Paulo Bienal, 2014, U3 Triennale, Ljubljana, 2011; RIWAQ Biennale, Palestine, 2007 and 2009; Istanbul Biennale, 2005; Gwangju Biennale, 2002 amongst other international exhibitions. He is chair of CASCO, Utrecht. He received the 2012 Princess Margriet Award and the 2014 CCS Bard College Prize for Curatorial Excellence. The event is free and open to the public. The WCSCD curatorial course and series of public lectures have been initiated and organized by Biljana Ciric. The lecture by Charles Esche is generously supported by the Embassy of Kingdom of Netherlands in Belgrade < Mentors Educational Program How to Apply >