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< Back Beating Around the Bush: Some Reflections on the Crisis of “Imported Cases” of Africans in Guangzhou 20 June 2020 Berhanu On April 15th, four days after the CNN coverage of the eviction of Africans in Guangzhou [1] , a message from a WeChat group [2] rang an alarm on my phone. Some Chinese volunteers helping the Africans’ in Guangzhou were just tipped off by a microblogger (the Chinese equivalent of Tweeter), who tagged the microblog of the Bureau of Guangzhou Public Security. The blogger asserted that those volunteers were calling for ordinary Chinese to help Africans, which would inevitably expand the pool of contacts [of asymptomatic carriers], during a crucial time when the Guangzhou authority was screening the population for epidemiological purposes and when nobody would know who had contracted the virus. “Are they [the volunteers] spreading [the COVID-19] intentionally?” the blogger asked rhetorically. Indignant at the blogger’s unfair charge against volunteers who aimed to address the clear and present threats, including displacement, the risk of contracting virus, panic, financial loss and hunger, I sent him a private message, intending to forestall his report. “Can you imagine the xenophobia in African societies would cause another wave of ‘imported cases’ of returning Chinese expats if the Africans in Guangzhou were not treated well?” I meant that there are millions of Chinese working and living in Africa, far outnumbered the Africans in China. In this deeply interwoven world, a flapping of a butterfly would not only trigger a tornado far away, but the tornado would backlash and engulf the butterfly in no time. The reply: “where are you from, idiot?”. And I was unfriended by him in a second. The blogger’s report seemed to have taken effect. The next day, several volunteers were summoned by the local policemen, and their actions were called to halt. The intervention dampened the volunteers’ enthusiasm and disrupted their charity work. Several WeChat groups initiated by volunteers to provide correct information, organise food delivery and translation services, were dismissed one by one. Though unfriended, I was still able to browse the microblogger’s webpage. I discovered that the screenshot of my short-lived conversation with him was posted atop. It was liked by hundreds and followed by many derisive mocks. Scrolling down the page, I found that he constantly hunts the misconducts of African students and passes his evidence to public authorities and other microbloggers. Likewise, the posts of the latter are teemed with anti-black, anti-Muslim, and even anti-feminism remarks. No wonder the volunteers fell prey — any assistance they offered to the evicted Africans would be reckoned as a collaboration with unwelcomed foreigners. But where does such hatred come from? How does it relate to the reality in Guangzhou? Like scientists who are able to determine the genetic composition of any life form, let me start by examining the emergence of this social phenomenon the same way. DNA sequencing of the Microbloggers’ narrative Scholars have recently noticed the right-wing populism emerging on Chinese social media and the jargons netizens have coined. The so-called White-Leftist ( baizuo ), repeatedly used in netizen’s vilifying their enemies, is key to the understanding of the ideological genesis. Cheng Yinghong (2018) argues that the neologism reflects the identification of some Chinese with their imagined western (white) world, as well as their vicarious lamentation on the decline of western civilization, which they blame on the leftists’ advocating multiculturalism, feminism, and immigrants’ rights. Just as the Western ‘White Left’ is the internal enemy to the Western civilization, the Chinese liberals are both ‘White Left’ and traitors of the Han Chinese [3] , the majority of Chinese people. Han-traitor ( hanjian ) and White-leftist are thus used interchangeably. [4] Zhang Chenchen (2020) reaches a similar conclusion through qualitative analysis of more than 1,000 postings from a popular online community zhihu , a Quora-like forum, offering a portrayal of the political stances of well-educated and well-informed Chinese internet users. They criticise Western hegemony on one hand, and construct China’s ethno-racial and political identities through downplaying the ‘inferior’ non-Western groups, namely the immigrants, Muslims, and feminists, on the other. [5] While Cheng and Zhang’s discussion help us to explore the way some Chinese netizens make sense of and place themselves in the world’s hierarchy, my aim is to look into other factors that contribute to the identity making of the microbloggers as well as a few new trends. Forging a coherent identity nonetheless involves contradiction. Many microbloggers involved in the anti- discourses see themselves as rather victims. The threat is from the alleged high birth rate of immigrants and domestic Muslims. They quote the high birth rates of sub-Saharan countries moving to Europe and that of Chinese Muslims, believing that the birth control policy on Han Chinese would only shrink the relative size of the Han people and undermine the nation’s future. Their misgivings have theoretical ground, though, from an influential book titled Big Country of an Empty Nest . The book was forbidden in mainland China in 2007 for its criticism of the one-child policy. It argues that if couples are not allowed to give birth to more than two children, the population would inevitably decline, and the aging parents in their empty ‘nests’ would have no children to take care of them. The ban of the book was not lifted until 2013 when China’s stringent birth control policy loosened. Yet the anxiety passed on to cyberspace, this time projecting to the growing presence of domestic Muslims and Africans in Chinese cities, quite similar to the Great Replacement theory [6] upheld by their western counterparts. Feminism, which embraces liberty on marriage among other political and social equalities, becomes the antithesis of the defenders of the nation, too, because any Chinese women who marry out to other races would be the loss of the assets of the civilization. Perhaps what runs deep is kind of misogyny: men desired women; but owing to a sense of deprivation they instead grow hostility towards their potential, marriageable nationals who turn to other nationals or races. And this misogynist sentiment takes place at the level of civilization which at some points is criticizing the state, which I shall discuss later. Of course, it is not new, for the hatred towards some African students has its precedent in the 1980s. [7] Back then, the Chinese students conflicted with African students who played loud music and dated Chinese girls. [8] Thirty years later, thanks to the expansion of Chinese education system and the Belt and Road Initiative, the African students now make up 1/7 of the total overseas students by 2016, [9] and the trope of “taking our girls ” comes back on cyberspace, this time fuelled by a new charge. The African students are imagined as receiving decent scholarships and other “super-national treatments” by the Chinese government and lead a carefree life, in contrast to many poor Chinese families who cannot afford university tuition. Of course, this charge is unfounded, because the self-funded African students have surpassed the Chinese scholarship holders since 2005 and made up 83% of the total population in 2015. [10] In the meantime, xenophobia seems to have spilled over to Whites as well, whose prestige has been declining in the past decade, partly from the widening chances of Chinese’ everyday exposure to them. One of the racial epithets of the white is “white monkey”. Many Caucasian expats are hired in business promotions such as real estate sales in China’s cities in order to create an “international” image. The effect of the commercial ruse is paradoxical, for it presupposes the association of business success with Caucasian faces for the Chinese, but in the meantime damage the reputation of some serious businessmen, because the hired performances of Caucasian expats are seen as monkey shows in the zoo. [11] To the extent that the change of attitude draws on the employment relations and economic status, the perception of expats through the prism of race is laced with snobbery pinpointed by an assertion of Chinese identity thanks to China’s economic ascending. As a consequence, being a Chinese and ‘yellow’ is no longer something embarrassing but worthy championing. This may explain the emergence of a new racial epithet “yellow left” from some microbloggers. The “yellow left”, as Zhang Chenchen (2020) quotes from the answers from zhihu , are “a growing number of elite youngsters in the more developed regions who are out of touch with reality and overflowing with sympathy.” Instead of “white left”, the use of “yellow left” seems to reflect a nuanced identity shift by which the “yellow race” moved up the rung of the racial ladder. And, calling a Chinese compatriot who endorses liberal values as such implies a fiercer denouncement of the latter’s disloyalty despite common racial ground, quintessentially represented by the skin colour. Just as David Gilmore (2009) reveals that any misogynist attitudes entail a tension-ridden state of men, [12] we can see that the coexistence of the repressed “feminine” weakness and a promotion of masculine, martial valour in the usernames of some popular microbloggers (often with 100,000 followers) promoting the anti- narratives. There are usernames stating more explicit political agendas or targeting more specifically at certain groups, such as “anti-black/green spokesman” (green symbolizes Muslims), “Removing multiculturalism”, “Society of Jokes of the Black”, and so on. But the username of the microblogger who reported the volunteering to the police is “helpless benevolence”. Other usernames valorise the ancient military glory of Han Chinese, such as “Han’s battle tiger”, “Heart of the Han’s soul”, “Guangdong governorate-general adjutant”, a military rank of Ming dynasty (1368-1644), and “Yang the sixth”, a legendary marshal of Song dynasty (960-1279) who led his entire clan fighting the Liao (916-1125) army in the northern China. Besides the cultural frenzy and xenophobic rhetoric, the commercialization of the China’s Internet industry cannot be neglected. The topics (hashtags) of some microbloggers are called super-topic ( chaohua ), which is more than an ‘ordinary topic’ that any netizen is free to join and leave his or her comments. One needs to be a member (fan) of a community run by a moderator of the super-topic so that her or his comments of the super-topic is seen by others joining the same super-topic. The moderator, or the microblogger of the super-topic, has to keep the community size stable or expand it by cultivating a consensus and eliminating any disharmony among the community members, for any discordance among members would cause some to leave the community/super-topic. According to the regulation of the platform, the microblogger has to “clock in” and renew their posts daily. Bigger the community, the higher the network flow, more valuable the super-topic community for advertisers, and more the microbloggers can earn. In other words, cyber-politics is driven by profitability. This, of course, leads to enclosures in the public sphere. Just as my conversation with the blogger only ‘feeds the troll’, the troll preys on external dissidents to grow bigger. With the growth of the community of homogeneous minds, even a single word can elicit huge repercussion among its members, such as the black, blue, white, yellow as well as binaries such as left/right, female/male. In this regard, the growth of the hatred narratives just resembles the replication of a single stranded RNA with a number of nucleic acid sequence. Who are the Africans in Guangzhou? If the blacks are encapsulated in a single Chinese character by the microbloggers, then, to what extent does it represent reality? Is it able to account for the complexities of the ‘blacks’ in Guangzhou? Tong Tong market at Sanyuanli. The stores open until 6:30 p.m. In fact, the majority of dark-skinned people in Guangzhou are mainly traders from the continent of Africa, who buy from Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Foshan, and other cities in China. But it is useful to point out that not all Africans are black if we consider people from Maghreb countries and the European descents, and that ‘black’ peoples, as outsiders would foist the colour off on them, may refer to one another as red, coffee, or white on relative basis. African scholar Adams Bodomo traces the exodus of African businessmen to Hongkong and China to the financial crisis in the 1990s. [13] With the passage of time, the African sojourners have gradually transformed the city landscape, to the extent that the business hub they frequent is labelled as ‘chocolate city’. [14] At Sanyuanli, Xiaobei and Taojin (literally Goldrush, I should point out) of Guangzhou, where the metro lines highways converge and make transportation very convenient, Africans gravitate to wholesale malls and a warren of retail shopfronts of clothes, shoes, watches, mobile phones, curtains, ceramic tiles and so on. At the Tong Tong market at Sanyuanli Road (Fig. 1), for instance, an African woman can bargain the price and pick twenty shoes from one stall, and another twenty from the second stall. Then, she can have all the shoes packed and her name marked on the package at the back of the mall. Outside of the mall, a line of trolley men and taxi drivers are waiting, who would pull the packages to storage houses of cargo companies or drive directly to the airport. If she is hungry, she can find several African restaurants run by a few Africans’ Chinese wives serving fufu , the typical staple food made of banana in western African countries, or nsima , the thick, white porridge of corn, to the very palate of Malawian or Eastern Africa nationals. Of course she can go to the MacDonald’s next door, the symbol of globalization, for a quick meal. She can get a local phone number from a counter in the mall, having WeChat and VPN installed by the young man behind the counter in addition to WhatsApp and Facebook on her phone. The young man typically comes from a hinterland province and has worked in an electrical company in the Pearl River Delta or so. The WeChat and VPN, restaurants, hotels, plus money exchange services run by Chinese Muslims, and cargo services and custom companies in the airport laid out the localized business infrastructure for the African traders. Haussa people from Nigerian roaming the streets of Xiaobei, the market opens until midnight. Yet businessmen and women need to build connections and trust. Anyone who does business needs to face many uncertainties, so are the Africans in Guangzhou. Gordon Mathew et al (2017) has offered an all-embracing account of the trade activities of the Africans. One of the common complaints of African is that what they get from the supplier is different from or inferior to what they had ordered, so that it is “better to cry in China than to cry back in Africa”, that is, a careful check of the goods before shipment to Africa. [15] Owing to the language barrier and unmatched expectations, many Chinese consider their African clients “troublesome”. This catch phrase, mafan in Chinese, is readily parroted by Africans in their everyday English. “Too many mafan ”, several businesswomen have complained about their relationship with the Chinese to me. Nevertheless, some Africans and Chinese are wise enough to reduce mafan by binding their business partnership. The story of Namazzi, a Uganda lady is exemplar in this regard. [16] Unlike her home country where foreigners, including Chinese, find business expediency thanks to the “colonial system”, Namazzi tells me that Guangzhou is not an easy place to set up a cargo company because it requires so long a process and so much paperwork. Instead, she hired a Chinese young man from hinterland province to register the company and do the paperwork. She pays the ‘dummy boss’ one thousand dollars a month, and helps him buy a car, so that the boy can run some side business such as driving people to the airport in the evening. “If you work with someone, you must help them also grow”, said Namazzi. Namazzi even makes Chinese friends of the same age set in Guangzhou and hosts their visit to her country. There, she has her countrymen, who lack capital, buy goods on credit from the Chinese shop owners by referring to her name. The Chinese would first call Namazzi to confirm that the Uganda customers know Namazzi in person and say to the customers that if they get the goods on credit, they must ship the goods from China with Namazzi’s cargo. If someone in Uganda does mafan for the Chinese, she or he would just call Namazzi. And Namazzi has many of her mafan solved by Chinese friends in Guangzhou. The business network even takes deeper roots in the Guangzhou soil. Numerous scholarly works have shed light on the interracial marriage, the Igbo men from Nigeria and their Chinese wives in particular, whose unions stabilize the trans-continental business. [17] In the similar vein, religious activities of both African Muslims and Christians in Guangzhou have been localised to some extent. Close to the Guangzhou railway station, the Saad bin Abi Waqas Mosque, a sacred place where the Prophet’s legendary maternal uncle Waqas was buried, becomes a pilgrim to African Muslims. It does not host special service for the participating Africans, but sometimes delivers preaching to its Chinese followers (Hui and Uyghur ethnicities) on keeping good faith and conducting good business with foreigners. The main hall, solemn and tidy, is open for both Chinese, African, Arabs, Pakistanis, and Indian Muslims for meditation. [18] In another mosque, a Malian Muslim leads the worship for both African and Chinese on behalf of the Imam thanks to the Malian’s mastery of Chinese, Arabic, English, and French. Besides his business, he also helped his mosque mates with visa formalities. Indeed, to some extent the churches and mosques serve as the asylums for overstayers, who have long been a headache for Guangzhou Immigration and police. The Malian as a religious broker indeed play a role here, in addition to the Mosque’s provision of food and accommodation to Muslim sojourners, making it a caravanserai in the Guangzhou city. For Christians, one of the now renowned city spectacles is the Sacred Heart Cathedral’s African congregation. Established in 1863, the church’s Sunday mass now offers English service for Africans, mostly Igbo Nigerians. The church used to be open to non-believers, but when I was about to enter the mass, two Nigerians standing at the entrance checked if everyone was Christian, and those who did not give a positive answer were denied access. In the courtyard next to the main hall, a white shelter hosts another mass. Inside it the whole membership is dancing and singing the name of the Lord and Jesus– the effervescent Pentecostal spirit [19] sometimes is eye-opening to the Chinese onlookers. Yet many African Pentecostals told me that the Sacred Heart Cathedral is not their first option, or simply not “their religion”. I joined several Pentecostal congregations through the invitation of my Caribbean and African friends. The first church I attended was run by a Congolese pastor and attended by twenty-plus Africans. When the soundproof door closed behind me and the thick curtain on it was drawn—the room seemed to have adapted from a music studio—the thunderous preaching and the breathless translation by a Ghanaian sitting next to him split one’s ears. One of the gospels of the rhythmised sermon was that with one dollar one deposits in God’s place, he will get three, five, and even twenty in return. But at the end of the service, the pastor said that the conference room rent of 1200 yuan was due. Since the donation he collected from this service was not enough, he would have his assistant call each participant for 100 yuan after the service. The second one, presided by a Kenyan pastor and on a different floor of the same building, was more cordial and homely. Women, including a Chinese lady, were sitting in the front with their children. I remember one of the babies untended by her mom started crawling under people’s legs. She was grabbed by a man sitting at the side of the room when she was too close to the auditorium, and the man gave me an apologizing smile. He turned out to be the baby’s father, who had run a business in Guangzhou for years. The intervals of preaching and dancing were for men to exchange business information, mostly outside of the chamber. Each time the participants are offered food prepared by women, such as curry rice with barbecue drumsticks, and occasionally birthday cakes of the kids of the church members. Later, I attended a third church, which was operated by a Nigerian pastor and his wife. Like the Kenyan pastor, he often used a handkerchief to wipe off the sweat off his brow during his passionate preaching, gesticulation, and gyration back and forth among members. The congregation was asked to read selected passages from the bible, and our souls often awakened by the interrogative shout of the pastor at the face. “Do you understand?!” Besides the pastor’s arduous preaching, there were the collective prayers. I remember that we laid hands for those who kneel down before the pastor in order to lift them up from suffering or weakness of faith, for the enveloped red notes with Chairman Mao’s figure on them in a shining aluminium basket, and for the newly wed. The couple, a Nigerian husband and his Tanzanian wife, nervous yet joyful, received the blessings from the pastor, their parents, and several guest bishops coming from as far as the United States. Heidi Hauge (2013) notes that a ‘reversed evangelism’ prevails in Pentecostal churches in Guangzhou. As Europeans are seen to have abandoned their mission, Africans are given responsibility for evangelizing the Gospel, and China is soon to be won over for God. In light of this creed, China’s prosperity and progress is only the achievement of a worldly nation, and the ordinary Chinese patriotism is merely a display of pomp and pageantry. “Ten more years, and we will no longer remember this place because there will be such a mighty change and shaking.” One pastor in his sermon claimed during China’s sixtieth anniversary in 2009 (ibid). I haven’t heard about the contents alike when I joined these Pentecostal churches. My presence as a Chinese may have impeded pastors to claim so, or that the stringent visa policies have dampened their ambitions over the years. Several Nigerians grudged to me about the 30-day business visa which tight-jacketed their business activities. It takes about 45 days to browse shops and goods, place the order, and wait for the production and then check the quality and design of the goods before shipping them to Africa. The year 2009, they recalled, was a turning point when the local police chased one illegal stayer or two, who jumped out of one building and died of heart attack. [20] The Nigerians and African protested, resulting in only stricter visa policy and the local government’s control over the immigration through discouraging landlords in downtown districts from leasing houses to them. This policy, however, contributes to the scattering of African traders to neighbouring cities, and perhaps putting them in direct contacts with manufacturers. Still, the population of Nigerian community has dropped from some four thousand to five or six hundred, according to the estimate of an Igbo businessman. More illegal entries are under the radar, he tells me, and the mores of Nigerians are corrupted because of transgressions of overstayers or from overstaying itself. Facing such community plight, the pastor warns church attendants to refrain from any illegal activities such as drug trafficking, because the Pentecostal church, where people are bathed in the Holy Spirit, does not allow any evil nor any witchcraft which had been practiced among Igbos. The pastor himself was in a precarious situation, too. He had to renew his visa on an annual basis for the past nineteen years, another Nigerian told me, and he began to seriously consider the option of leaving China for good to America. Beating the bush, and around the Bush Regardless of the levels of interactions of the Africans with locals in Guangzhou, the pastor’s prophecy came brutally true. After the end of 2019, the pandemic hit Wuhan city hard, and then the entire China and the world. A sharp turn of the post-Wuhan pandemic, from domestic view, was the ‘imported cases’ at the border cities and metropolises of China, after the government had implemented aggressive measures to contain the virus. Not only the epicentre Wuhan (from Jan 23 to April 8), other major cities had been locked down for quite a while. Faced the ever-changing situations, local people’s adrenaline roller-coastered. When they just became desensitized, the Guangzhou public security reported an incident on 1st April. A Nigerian businessman, tested positive, bit a nurse’s face when he forced his way from the hospital. Prior to this incident, the Guangzhou CDC [21] announced on 22nd March that immigrants entered Guangzhou after 8thMarch, regardless of their nationality, should self-quarantine for 14 days. The Nigerian entered Guangzhou on 20th March and was tested positive on 23rd March and hospitalized. The CDC traced his contact history, discovering on 2nd April that the hostess of the restaurant he frequented was positive by Nucleic test, so was her husband, and their daughter who had travelled home and a boyfriend of hers were tested positive on 4thApril, too. In that afternoon, all the shops (except pharmacy’s) in that area were ordered to close for 14 days. The next day, the two downtown districts of Guangzhou, Yuexiu and Baiyun, and the Huilai county, where the daughter stayed, escalated to medium-risk areas. [22] Residential distribution of Africans in Guangzhou. This map draws on a survey of a small number of African population in 2018 and shows that they tended to cluster in Guangyuanxi area (upper left) and Xiaobei area (lower right). Blue/brown colours indicate female and male respondents and the signs of moon and cross represent Muslims and Christians respectively. The sifting of African population in Guangzhou began no later than 6th April, when African residents were asked to show their passports, registration forms, and their travel history. Owing to the so-called asymptomatic transmission [23] , all of the people with contact history should be collectively isolated for 14 days in designated facilities and tested at least twice during the isolation. Since the malls in Xiaobei and Sanyuanli were frequented by African buyers, those who reported to have shown up there were ordered to implement collective quarantine, too. Those without contact history with confirmed cases and the marketplaces are ordered to self-quarantine at home. The people who knocked African’s doors involved health workers, translators, and local police with the assistance of sub-district government and neighbourhood community ( shequ ), the grassroots administration assigned with the mission of residential registration and population control. It was less obvious whether the local government used one stone to kill two birds, namely the disease monitoring and the immigration control over illegal entrees and overstayers. [24] But the ways they handle the issue proved clumsily hashed and the consequence disruptive. [25] On April 7th, some Africans became displaced, because they were denied access to their residential community, as evidenced by posts at the entrance of a neighbourhood community. Later news coverage revealed that it started in a hotel, where the Africans refused to stay for another 14-day quarantine because their visa would expire and despite that officials believed that they had stepped out of the hotel. They finally were let out, but ordered by the officials that they should not go back in. [26] Part of the Africans were made homeless, according to a local social worker, because they refused home quarantine as this would ‘limit their freedom’. Agitated, one of them even jumped off his balcony on the third floor. Many more dragged their suitcases, wandering in the city, only to find that malls, restaurants, and buses were closed to them. The homeless Africans video-called home countries, and upon receiving many video clips and messages, a Kenyan independent media wode maya (literally ‘my mom!’, a common Chinese exclamation) with 366,000 subscribers reported this, which followed by thousands of angry comments on boycotting Chinese and Chinese goods in Africa. [27] On the same day, a Guangzhou local was investigated by the police because he spread a rumour which went viral on WeChat a day earlier. He averred that a field hospital would be in place to host the “300,000 black people”, and the entire Guangzhou population would contract the virus shortly. The evicted and those who were ordered to isolate themselves were indignant, questioning why the whites, South Americans, African descents holding US and UK passports or the Chinese wives and children cohabited with them had not been tested nor quarantined; why long-time African residents in Guangzhou had to do nucleic acid test; and why some of them were tested many times without knowing the result, contrary to the promises of the testers. It must be racist, targeting Africans from Africa only, many of my African friends concluded. Yet, upon scrutiny in a month later, I believe the sweeping action was less intentioned than an institutional blunder. The measures meted out by local government through neighbourhood control is key to the understanding of institutional efforts. China used to have a district, sub-district ( jiedao ), and neighbourhood community ( shequ) in its urban governance administrative hierarchy. Now the grid was introduced below the neighbourhood community since the 2000s. A grid is a cluster of households, ranging from 50 in the countryside to 1000 in cities. The grid manager and workers assume jobs assigned from above. During the outbreak of SARS, for instance, Biao Xiang (2020) finds grid managers “visit door to door to check everyone’s temperature, hand out passes which allow one person per household to leave home twice a week and, in the case of collective quarantine, deliver food to the doorstep of all families three times a day… Once the central government declared the war on virus, in no time the entire nation put itself under gridlock.” [28] Starting from April 6th, the local authorities operated in a similar fashion as Xiang portrays. At first there was the banning of Africans entering into their neighbourhood community, followed by the hasty arrangement of collective quarantine in hotels. One of my African friends reported that policemen drove her countrymen at night to quarantine hotels just to avoid public attention. For home-quarantined Africans, neighbourhood community staff began to take care of their daily life, such as ordering food and scheduling the test. The involvement of the police was noticeable in addition to the control from neighbourhood communities. Some policemen were from the Bureau of Public Security in charge of domestic issues. When the eviction took place, a few kind-hearted landlords were willing to offer home-quarantine for Africans, but they were pressured to give up by the policeman, who warned that asymptomatic carriers would put the entire neighbourhood at stake. Other policemen are actually border security enforcement under the newly established Immigration Bureau, whose functions were just separated from the Ministry of Public Security in 2019. Wearing the same uniform as common policemen, these immigration officers hold the power to check visa status and detain overstayers for repatriation. The displaced Africans in the headlines of international media, regardless of their volition to conform or resist, were in fact the ones missed out by the grid work and who, when roaming the street, were captured by patrolling police and sent to hotels for collective quarantine. In other words, the police and neighbourhood community/grid acted together to put Africans in grids according to their respective epidemiological conditions. While eviction was not among their goals, it served as necessary means to control the disease through a combination of handy apparatuses by the government. There was perhaps the institutional embolism. The Public Security or the police system seems less coordinated with the diplomatic line. As revealed by later news coverages, especially a Nigerian reporter’s detailed report, the joint action meted out to African nationals was done without adequate communication with African consulates. The tension culminated at the night of April 9th, when the Acting Consul General of the Nigerian consulate ranted at the Director General of Guangzhou Foreign Affairs Office in front of a hotel, after patrolling van took eleven African nationals (including eight Nigerians, two Cote d’Ivoire nationals and one Benin Republic citizen) whose passports were ‘seized’ by the Chinese at the reception. While whose fault was it is left to the good judgment of the readers, my emphasis is that the scenario was occasioned by confused tongues: when the Nigerian charged that Guangzhou police “harassed” African residents, the Chinese official denied that no one was “arrested”. When the recorded scenario was uploaded to YouTube, many cheered the Nigerian diplomat because he spoke on behalf of all African people and, according to some, should be elected “our president”. The arm crossing of the Chinese and his efforts to calm down his interlocutor, on the contrary, was interpreted as signs of covering up and not responsive to the issue. The day followed witnessed whopping escalation of diplomatic tension, and inhuman became the catchphrase of the diatribe. African ambassadors in Beijing demanded “the cessation of forceful testing, quarantine and other inhuman treatments”, and that “threats of revocation of visas, arrest, detention and deportation of African legal migrants for no cogent reason which infringes on their human rights.” The next day, the Nigerian Speaker of the House of Representatives, laying his mobile phone showing the video of the confrontation between officials in Guangzhou on the table, expressed displeasure over the inhuman treatment when he summoned the Chinese ambassador to Nigeria. [29] The video of the meeting soon appeared on Chinese independent media, and was interpreted by the audience as the ambassador bowing to the Nigerian congressman, a sheer humiliation by the latter, before it was deleted by the webmasters. The charge of China’s inhuman treatment of Africans continued in both the Nigerian media and Twitter of another spokesman of the House of Representative. In a television debate, the guests evoked an image (work) from one of China’s museums, where a picture of a chimpanzee is juxtaposed next to an African (again an dehumanizing action), [30] and suggested a number of retaliations, including sending the illegal Chinese home, the nationalization of Chinese investments, cutting off Chinese loan, and bringing China to the court for causing damage to Nigeria for spreading the virus. * These events all happened in a time when I joined the volunteers to moderate the impacts of local decrees on the Africans in Guangzhou from mid-April to May. Earlier than that, as I got to know later, two Chinese students who had conducted research related to the African diaspora took the initiative of the aid, and many more volunteers, particularly who versed in English and French joined the group. In the meantime, I was bombarded by messages, news, outcries, accusations, debates, from several research networks including both Chinese and African scholars, while texting and calling my previous informants to check on them since I was away in Australia. Some replied, some didn’t. No one had the whole picture, even the number of African expats in Guangzhou, i.e. 4,553 reported by the Guangzhou authority in a briefing on April 12. The number was too exact to be trusted because it varied dramatically from different sources in the past decade, [31] and I know some were hiding in their friend’s places because of the fear for deportation after testing. Some Africans residing in other cities of China and African descents in Guangzhou were acting in the meantime, delivering food and sending money to those forced to quarantine in hotels. The Chinese volunteers had better cooperate with these Africans and possibly African students studying in China, because the two groups are ideal mediators between Chinese authorities and their countrymen. The Africans in quarantine were less likely to be well informed as they relied heavily on their own network. It was the harsh epidemiological control that exposed them to head-on encounters with local police and grassroots government staff who do not speak good English. Even the notice for quarantine was in Chinese. But trust between Chinese and African volunteers was hard to win in such a short notice, especially when the diplomatic tension was already in place. I have no clue how Africans were helping Africans. My best guess is that the Africans and Chinese were digging the tunnel from opposite sides of the hill. Once dismissed Chinese volunteers reassembled, continuing fighting fake news by providing correct information, helping with accommodation and ordering food for the Africans (sometimes from their own pockets) as well as preparing the brochures for the installation of health monitoring code on the mobile phones of the quarantined. Without the code one could not travel to other cities by train or by plane. I joined a group of twenty volunteers, whose leader managed to secure from the local government a list of 200 plus Africans and several Indians and Pakistani collectively quarantined in several hotels. We were each assigned 10 people, making sure that they take the nucleic acid test on the 7th day and the 14th day and report their body temperature daily, as well as addressing their immediate needs and listening to their complaints. Their difficulties vary. A common complaint was locals’ running away in front of them, which was very embarrassing and even traumatic for them. An Ethiopian gentleman’s response was admirable in this regard, for he would stay all day in the hotel room in order not to scare the pedestrians, even though he had a habit of walking after dinner and was suffering from diabetes. An Eastern African businessman complained that no taxi would take him for a test in the designated hospital. Taking for granted that I was in Guangzhou, he texted me that “please come and taste me in my hotel”, a typo which really made us laugh. A Senegalese declined my call in the beginning but sent me his test report upon my request. It was not until I received a phone call from Guangzhou police that I realized that he was suspicious of my identity. Many more are running out of money because the hotel fares were on them, and two women could only afford a meal a day. Sending some money through my WeChat wallet was what I could offer only. Several scholars who had researched the Africans in Guangzhou also worked together in drafting possible solutions to local government to ameliorate the consequences on the Africans, including the provision of humanitarian remedies to those short of money or food regardless of their visa statuses. The government may have underestimated the difficulties in handling the African expats in their jurisdiction, which backfired and triggered diplomatic protests against China when the incident unfolded. However, given that the border is closed and only a few international flights are operating, and that the international NGOs are beyond reach, practically, the local government has to take care of the African expats at the end of the day, and the localization of humanitarian assistance seemed inevitable. [32] We know our proposal has reached a certain level of officials and the government did take some positive steps, but we were not able to get direct feedback because of the bureaucratic procedures. This is how things work in China, to my understanding. Nevertheless, as a Chinese national I was struck by the whopping of Nigerian media and politicians in denouncing China. In the past few years, the country came across to me for conferring noble titles to a few Chinese expats. [33] Though often portrayed as the glory of overseas Chinese by Chinese media, such attainments could not have been achieved without the openness of Nigeria’s society. Besides, to the extent that the Igbo and Hausa in Guangzhou hardly mixed with one another (owing to the entrenched ethnic tension and hatred, a schism may go back to the Nigerian civil war in 1966-1970), how come the whole nation now turns against China? In fact, Nigerian nationals and netizens also mentioned the hospitality of their country towards Chinese as opposed to the maltreatment in Guangzhou. But I discovered the antagonism drew on other anecdotal accounts. On Naraland.com , a popular national forum, a thread stated that the Nigerians had been clean before their departure to China, and that they were tested positive only through injection of virus by Chinese doctors. Another had it that blood tests were made to Nigerians in Guangzhou because Chinese doctors were curious about why the Nigerian genes were so strong to survive Ebola. There is fake news, too. A screenshot of a WeChat dialogue between a Chinese an African was taken as evidence of racial eviction. However, apparently the broken Chinese from the dialogue was awkwardly translated from English. [34] The confidence on Nigerian’s national hygiene capacity and the nation’s genetical robustness crept in, precluding the possibility that Guangzhou authority may have had any justifiable epidemiological considerations. Retaliation at country level is a must, so is the in-time evacuation of suffering nationals caught in Guangzhou. On 31 May, 268 Nigerian nationals were evacuated “over virus and racism” by a flight and from arranged by the Nigerian authority, and all the evacuees will be proceeding on another 14 days quarantine. [35] China’s spokesman of foreign ministry has tried to harmonize the diplomatic relations with African countries by reiterating the principle of “all foreigners are treated equally”, “reject all racist and discriminatory remarks” because “the Chinese people always see in African people partners and brothers through thick and thin”, without specifying who promotes the racism, racial thinking, or racialized domestic and immigrants’ issues. [36] African independent media and politicians and the narrative of English media highlighted China’s eviction, mistreating and dehumanizing of African expats without referring to either the epidemiological situations or the illegal visa status of Africans. The matter of illegality only surfaced when Nigeria brought to the fore the illegality of Chinese expats. Both narratives seem to beat around the bush, while the enforcement of each country were beating the bush where expats were inhabiting. At the end of the day, one’s home country is believed to be the safest and cleanest, while another country is always a hell. Now the Chinese expats in several African countries are appealing for evacuation arranged by the Chinese government, particularly after the murder of three Chinese in Zambia on 24th May, a tragedy which is allegedly associated with the Mayor of Lusaka’s crusade of a number of downtown Chinese businesses who denied access to locals and were labelled as discriminatory. [37] To quote the Indian scholar Arundhati Roy writing on the pandemic, “the lockdown worked like a chemical experiment that suddenly illuminated hidden things.” [38] But in the case of African expats in Guangzhou and its aftermath, the pandemic is illuminating and shadowing at the same time. The local authority’s harsh measures and the immigrants’ suffering are exposed to the spotlight of the media. In contrast, both discourses of the nation-states portraying themselves as the ardent protectors of their citizens, and the cyberspace narratives celebrating unadulterated ethno-racial identity, have concealed the everyday experience of the African businessmen and their interactions with local Chinese. It was a blend of painstakingness, liveliness and entrepreneurship despite many restraints. If there is any “wreckage of a train that has been careening down the track for years”, [39] it is the fragility embedded in the low-end globalization [40] which has never gained legitimacy in the globalizing fad before the pandemic. Indeed, the pandemic has just reversed the flow of globalization, leaving international immigrants stranded, who are still struggling hard to gain the protection from their respective countries and securing a ticket of return flight. Berhanu is an anthropologist in African Studies. [1] Jenni Marsh, Shawn Deng and Nectar Gan. 2020. “Africans in Guangzhou are on edge, after many are left homeless amid rising xenophobia as China fights a second wave of coronavirus”. April 11 (updated on April 13). CNN news. Available at: https://edition.cnn.com/2020/04/10/china/africans-guangzhou-china-coronavirus-hnk-intl/index.html . [Accessed: 6 June 2020] [2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WeChat [3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Han_Chinesehttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Han_Chinese [4] Cheng Yinghong. 2018. “White-lefties and the traitor of the Han: The Other within the Nation-state.” Available at: https://www.chinesepen.org/blog/archives/117560 . [Accessed: 10 June 2020]. [5] Zhang Chenchen. 2020. “Right-wing populism with Chinese characteristics? Identity, otherness and global imaginaries in debating world politics online.” European Journal of International Relations vol. 26(1): pp. 88-115. [6] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Replacement [7] The earliest account of the African students’ experience in China see Immanuel Hevi, 1963. An African Student in China. London: Pall Mall Press. [8] Winslow Robertson. 2020. “A brief history of anti-black violence in China.” Available at: https://africasacountry.com/2020/05/a-brief-history-of-anti-black-violence-in-china Also Barry Sautman. 1994. Anti-Black Racism in Post-Mao China. The China Quarterly. vol 138. pp. 413-437. [9] Li, Anshan. 2018. “African Students in China: Research, Reality, and Reflection.” African Studies Quarterly. vol. 17(4). pp. 5-44. There were 61,594 African students out of 442,773 international students in 2016. [10] Ibid. [11] Alice Yan. 2017. “White people wanted: a peek into China’s booming ‘rent a foreigner’ industry.” June 10. South China Morning Post. Available at: https://www.scmp.com/news/china/society/article/2096341/white-people-wanted-peek-chinas-booming-rent-foreigner-industry . [12] Gilmore, David D. 2009. Misogyny: The Male Malady: University of Pennsylvania Press. [13] Adams Bodomo. 2012. Africans in China. Cambria Press: Amherst, New York. [14] Bill Schiller. 2009. Big Trouble in China’s Chocolate City. The Star. 1 Aug. Available at: https://www.thestar.com/news/insight/2009/08/01/big_trouble_in_chinas_chocolate_city.html [Accessed: 6 June 2020]. See also Pan, Chinglin and Ding Yuan. 2013. “Chocolate City as a Concept and as Visible African Space of Change and Diversity.” In Z. Huang and J. Zhang (eds.) Discussions on Socio-economic Transition: Urbanisation, Industrialization and Cultural Survival in China. Intellectual Property Publishing House, pp. 47-78. [15] Mathews Gordon, Linessa Dan Lin, Yang Yang. 2017. The World in Guangzhou: Africans and Other Foreigners in South China’s Global Marketplace. The University of Chicago Press: Chicago and London. p.88. [16] I used pseudonyms to protect the identity of interviewees. I am grateful to Ms. Genis for her kind assistance with the access and interviews and many discussions. [17] Qiu, Yu. 2016. Cleanliness and Danger: Destigmatisation and Identity Politics in Nigerian-Chinese Intimate Relationships in South China. Open times. vol. 4. pp. 88-107. [18] Mathews Gordon, Linessa Dan Lin, Yang Yang. 2017. The World in Guangzhou: Africans and Other Foreigners in South China’s Global Marketplace. The University of Chicago Press: Chicago and London. p. 167. [19] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pentecostalism [20] Bill Schiller. 2009. Big Trouble in China’s Chocolate City. The Star. 1 Aug. Available at: https://www.thestar.com/news/insight/2009/08/01/big_trouble_in_chinas_chocolate_city.html [Accessed: 6 June 2020]. [21] http://www.chinacdc.cn/en/ [22] Guangzhou Municipal Health Commission. 2020. “Updates on the Risk levels of the Epidemiological Conditions of Guangzhou Districts.” April 6. Guangzhou Municipal Health Commission webpage. Available at: http://wjw.gz.gov.cn/ztzl/xxfyyqfk/yqtb/content/post_5759569.html [Accessed: 6 June 2020] [23] Xinhua News Agency. 2020. “What is asymptomatic carriers, and how to discover them?” April 1. Available at: http://www.xinhuanet.com/politics/2020-04/01/c_1210540120.htm . [Accessed: 6 June 2020] [24] Police raid see Mathews Gordon, Linessa Dan Lin, Yang Yang. 2017. The World in Guangzhou: Africans and Other Foreigners in South China’s Global Marketplace. The University of Chicago Press: Chicago and London. pp. 124-125. [25] I establish the timeline of the incident from a number of sources including my African friends, local social worker, several volunteers, and both Chinese and English news reports. [26] Ikenna Emewu. 2020. “Guangzhou: Exclusive full report of the face-off, maltreatment allegation of Africans in China.” Africa China Press Centre. April 24. Available at: https://africachinapresscentre.org/2020/04/24/guangzhou-exclusive-full-report-of-the-face-off-maltreatment-allegation-of-africans-in-china/ [Accessed: 6 June 2020] [27] Mr Ghanababy. 2020. “Chinese Discriminate Africans Because Of Covid-19?”. April 7. Available at: https://youtu.be/qCea1oIKpc0 [28] Xiang, Biao. 2020. “From Chain Reaction to Grid Reaction: Mobilities & Restrictions during SARS & Coronavirus” Available at: https://www.compas.ox.ac.uk/2020/from-chain-reaction-to-grid-reaction-mobilities-restrictions-during-sars-coronavirus/ [29] Chukwunanuekpere. 2020. “Video: Gbajabiamila attacks Chinese Ambassador over treatment of Nigerians in China.” iBrandTV. April 11. Available at: https://ibrandtv.com/video-gbajabiamila-attacks-chinese-ambassador-over-treatment-of-nigerians-in-china/ [30] Plus TV Africa. 2020. “House of Rep Seeks Investigation on Validity Of Chinese Nationals In Nigeria.” May 1. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1hhImz-jSE [31] Pan, Chinglin and Ding Yuan. 2013. “Chocolate City as a Concept and as Visible African Space of Change and Diversity.” In Z. Huang and J. Zhang (eds.) Discussions on Socio-economic Transition: Urbanisation, Industrialization and Cultural Survival in China. Intellectual Property Publishing House, pp. 47-78. [32] I draw the concept from Alexander Betts, Evan Easton-Calabria and Kate Pincock. 2020.“The Localisation of Humanitarian Assistance as a Response to COVID-19.” Available at: https://www.kaldorcentre.unsw.edu.au/publication/localisation-humanitarian-assistance-response-covid-19 . [Accessed: 10 June 2020] [33] BBC Africa. 2019. “Chinese trader gets Nigerian title.” April 29. Available at: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=2314554302155058 [34] Available at: https://www.nairaland.com/5787867/ask-me-anything-issues-rumor [35] Felix Tih. 2020. “China: 260+ Nigerians evacuated over virus, racism.” May 31. Available at: https://www.aa.com.tr/en/africa/china-260-nigerians-evacuated-over-virus-racism/1859494 [36] China Foreign Ministry. “Foreign Ministry Spokesperson Zhao Lijian’s Remarks on Guangdong’s Anti-epidemic Measures Concerning African Citizens in China.” April 12. Available at: https://www.fmprc.gov.cn/mfa_eng/xwfw_665399/s2510_665401/2535_665405/t1768779.shtml [37] “Chinese businessmen murders stir tensions in Zambia.” May 28. The Strait Times. Available at: https://www.straitstimes.com/world/africa/chinese-businessmen-murders-stir-tensions-in-zambia [38] Arundhati Roy. 2020. “The pandemic is a portal”. Financial Times. April 4. Available at: https://www.ft.com/content/10d8f5e8-74eb-11ea-95fe-fcd274e920ca [39] Ibid. [40] Mathews Gordon, Linessa Dan Lin, Yang Yang. The World in Guangzhou: Africans and Other Foreigners in South China’s Global Marketplace. The University of Chicago Press: Chicago and London. Previous Next

Open call: What Could Should Curating Do educational program 2022 Open call: What Could Should Curating Do educational program 2022 Duration of the program: August to November 2022 Applications for 2022 open now Deadline for submission: March 30th 2022 WCSCD education program from 2022 From 2022, the WCSCD program will be framed towards a targeted approach to working in the new covid world, finding ways to stay connected, produce knowledge and retain physical encounters as an important part of the program. While the acceleration of online courses and shifting education fully online, gives priority to the upper body, head, eyes and brain, this program will activate the edges of the body, especially our feet, reminding us of the importance of walking together. Walking as way of staying safe, staying outdoors and mobilized, but also as a proposition for creating new paths towards new modes of working based on interdependence, a need that the pandemic reminded us of. One of the main concerns structuring the new program is the inequality that has been accelerated by the pandemic. Both inequality in economic means, but also in vaccination access, as borders remain closed for many. These markers of inequality also directly reflect who has access to education and equal participation, and on what terms, which is another central concern of the program. Since the establishment of the program in 2018, we have had an international focus and our mode of working and existing allowed young people from the margins to access the program. The new program will be structured as follows: The new educational program format will have its core in Belgrade with online participants Focus of the program: The main focus of the program will be thinking and practicing modes of instituting and working within the art field in the new world unfolding in front of us, with questions related to how we can practice being different kinds of humans, starting from the different roles that we embody, including those of artists and curators. The program will have a focus on modes of practicing commons, different ways of coming together based on horizontality and equal participation in sharing resources based on interdependence. The program will have a special emphasis on hands and movement through workshops designed as learning by doing including workshops on vernacular architecture and mud housing in Serbia workshop , among others. It will focus of land and possible future relationship between soil, arts and countryside. We will learn from peers who bravely experiment new modes of being where I can, you can become more that a market as Alexis Pauline Gumbs reminds us. Invited Lecturing mentors include: Manuel Borja-Villel (Director of Museo Reina Sofía), Massimiliano Mollona (Institute for Radical Imagination), Haynalka Somogyi (OFF Biennial, Hungary), Vladimir Nikolic (Artist, Belgrade), Jelica Jovanovic (Architect Belgrade), Bruce Pascoe (Writer and farmer Australia), Aslihan Demirtas (Architect, Artist, KHORA ) among others. Lecturing mentors presence will be combination of physical encounter and online. Mentor who will be able to travel to Serbia will be invited to give workshops in Belgrade with public lectures during the duration of the program. Each invited lecturing mentor will spend up to 3 to 5 days in Belgrade. Through regular meetings participants will be able to share their progress and participate together in workshops by invited mentors. Participants will collectively find ways to present the final outcome of the program in Belgrade but also in their respective local contexts where mentoring happens. Practical information No prior degrees in art or art history are required in order to apply The course fee is charged according to your country income ( you need to be passport holder of that country) For lower income countries program fee for 3 months is 400 euros For lower and middle income countries 3 months program fee is 600 euros For middle and upper income countries program fee is 1200 euros Please use this reference for your country income https://datahelpdesk.worldbank.org/knowledgebase/articles/906519-world-bank-country-and-lending-groups Payments should be done in advance and could be done in installments if needed Please note that the fee does not include accommodations or travel costs to Belgrade. The standard course fee also does not cover travel and accommodations for research trips. Successful applicants should prepare an allowance of approximately 300 EUR to cover these additional costs for research trips. 2022 research trip is planned to Manifesta ( subject to travel restrictions). How to apply: Applications should include the following items as a single Word or PDF document , sent by email to what.could.curating.do@gmail.com with the subject line: Educational program – WCSCD 2022 by March 30, 2022: CV/Portfolio Letter of Interest (500 words maximum, explaining your specific research interests) Describe work or practice that inspired you in last two years ( within 500 words) Where did you find out about the program Based on the quality of the submitted documents, up to 15 participants will be selected to attend the physical program in Belgrade. Selected applicants should plan to arrive in Belgrade no later than August 20th 2022 . The final list of participants will be announced in the April 2022. Online program application: Please send same material as above indicating online program ＷＣＳＣＤ Fee for online program is 300 euros for three months duration of program. Fellowships: For 2022 WCSCD, two fellowships are made available to program participants: WCSCD provides fellowship for one program participant from Serbia. No payment for program will be required but selected fellow should work twice a week with WCSCD team in its activities around program Please send letter of interest and your bio. Shortlisted candidates will be invited for online interview. KADIST provides one Curatorial Fellowship for one program participant from the Balkans. No payment for the program will be required but the selected fellow should produce 3-5 short videos with collection artists to be published on social media and curate one screening in the region, under the supervision and mentorship of KADIST and WCSCD. Please send letter of interest and your bio.with email title Curatorial Fellowship Shortlisted candidates will be invited for online interview. KADIST (Paris/San Francisco) is a nonprofit organization that believe contemporary artists make an important contribution to a progressive society, their work often addressing key issues of our time. KADIST produces programs that often highlight a key issue of today through presenting the voices of artists who respond to the urgent social and political forces of our time. www.kadist.org . Introduction of program 2018-2021 WHAT COULD/SHOULD CURATING DO?—WCSCD was initiated and funded in 2018 in Belgrade as an educational platform around notions of the curatorial and is registered as a civic association. Its main activities include an annual program of educational workshops, lectures, and studio visits for young practitioners, of three months duration in Belgrade. The intention is to bring together key international and local figures engaged in curatorial and artistic discourse, who are specifically able to offer important institutional knowledge and networks to the program participants. Through the program, we invite mentors from non-western contexts, local practitioners and also colleagues from the former West. The program is intensive, with daily programs of workshops, writing sessions, studio visits, and research trips in the region. Some of the research trips we have done so far include: Kosovo, Bosnia, Romania, Slovenia and Austria. At the end of the program the participants are required to present a final public moment in Belgrade that could be an exhibition or a different format, collectively decided. Besides closed-door workshops for participants, all invited mentors would present public lectures to the larger cultural sector, sharing their ways of working and instituting. WCSCD mentors have so far included: Dorothea von Hantelmann (Bard College, Berlin); Antariksa (co-founding member of KUNCI Cultural Studies Center, Yogyakarta, Indonesia); the Flash Art Magazine editorial team (Flash Art is a bimonthly magazine focused on contemporary art, based in Milan); Elena Filipović (Director of Kunsthalle Basel); Tara McDowell (Director of curatorial practice at Monash University in Melbourne, Australia); Maria Lind (Director of Tensta konsthall, Stockholm); Matt Packer (Director of EVA International); Hou Hanru (Artistic Director of MAXXI Rome, Italy); and What, How & for Whom (a curatorial collective formed in 1999 and based in Zagreb, Croatia), Branislav Dimitrijevic (art historian based in Belgrade), Sinisa Ilic (artist based in Belgrade), Ekaterina Degot (Director and Chief Curator of steirischer herbst), Lisa Rosendahl (Associate Professor of Exhibition Studies at Oslo National Academy of the Arts, and Curator of GIBCA—the Gothenburg biennial in 2019 & 2021), Luca Lo Pinto (Director of MACRO in Rome), Suzana Milevska (curator and a visual culture theorist), Jelena Vesic (independent curator, writer, and lecturer), Xiang Zairong (scholar), Nataša Petrešin-Bachelez (independent curator, editor and writer), and ruangrupa (artistic directors of Documenta 15), Lejla Hodzic (art practitioner, Sarajevo). Advistory group of What Could Should Curating Do are Ares Shporta (Lumbardhi Foundation), Matt Parker ( Eva International), Andrea Palasti (Serbia).

< Back Astrobus Ethiopia 2021 25 May 2021 Astrobus A conversation between Yabebal Fantaye, founder of Astrobus, and Biljana Ciric on the initiative: Astrobus. Astrobus will be conducing its third series of workshops in collaboration with As you go…roads under your feet, towards the new future Project and we have decided to get to know them better as well as better understand their modes of working. Just before conducting this interview, Yabebal and a small group of peers went on a research trip to prepare for the upcoming Astrobus series that will be activated in 2021 in Lower Omo Valley in the Southwest of Ethiopia. The field notes of this research trip are also published alongside this conversation, with the workshops themselves to be later shared through journal, in a way of finding ways to learn from local communities. Biljana Ciric: How was Astrobus initiated and how would you situate [the] Astrobus initiative within the local context of Ethiopia? Yabebal Fantaye: The idea of Astrobus came in 2015. It was partly inspired by seeing the inspirational pictures from the 1st edition of the SPACEBUS TOUR 2015 held in Senegal from 1-31 March 2015. In July 2015, a group of Ethiopian Astronomers from all over the world submitted an Expression of Interest with under the project name of Astrobus-Ethiopia for the Office of Astronomy for Development (OAD), which is part of the International Astronomical Union (IAU). The Brief summary of the project in the application was: “The AstroBus (ABus) Ethiopia project we plan aims to stimulate astronomy education and a culture of scientific thinking in Ethiopia through the use of exciting astronomy activities. This project is inspired by the success story of the 2015 ‘ SpaceBus ‘ project in Senegal. We believe the idea [of] ‘SpaceBus’ is an effective approach to reach out to the general public in a creative and inspiring way.” As can be seen from the original project description, the project from the onset has [had] the local context as a major [focal] point – building on top of a successful initiative in another African country. The Astrobus-Ethiopia project won IAU OAD funding in Nov 2015. The original 11 team members were all Astronomers, 9 Ethiopians and 2 from South Africa and Norway. The project was planned for Dec 2015, but the situation in Ethiopia meant [that] we couldn’t materialise it [until] Oct 2017. The delay gave us extra time to work on the project details, including time to think about the mission and vision. After extensive online and offline meetings, we decided to go beyond astronomy and include all areas of critical thinking. We defined our mission to be: “Stimulating a culture of critical thinking in Ethiopia.” After securing extra funding from the African Institute of Mathematical Sciences and the Ethiopian Space Science Society, we established an art and technology sub team on top of the original science and astronomy sub-teams. By collaborating with local non-profit organisations on science, technology, and art, and by partnering with different Universities, we managed to hold the first Astrobus-Ethiopia event in Oct 2017 in the southern part of the country, encompassing cities such as Addis Ababa, Adama, Hawasa, Dilla, Alaba, and Wolaita Sodo. We chose these places as they are major cities and are relatively easy to travel to. Moreover, we also had an established network to [the] Universities in those localities. BC: Why the title ‘Astrobus’? YF: The name Astrobus came because the first proposal was aimed to only encompass astronomy and space activities. Despite the project’s reach expanding a lot since then, we kept the name as it still provides the bigger picture of the project – we still need new scientific ideas, innovative engineering, and artistic design to make a bus that will take us to outer space. BC: Astrobus was started by yourself and a number of collaborators. Could you talk about the structure of the initiative? YF: The idea to have an Astrobus-Ethiopia event in Ethiopia first came because I wrote an email to my Astronomy friends to start writing a project proposal, which was written with significant contribution from every team member. The project is planned and executed by an ad-hoc group that is established at each event. The main work areas that need to be address for a successful Astrobus-Ethiopia event are: 1. Road Management 2. Science Team 3. Art Team 4. Technology Team 5. Media & Communication The first event held in 2017 encompassed cities such as Addis Ababa, Adama, Hawasa, Dilla, Alaba, and Wolaita Sodo. [The] second event took place in 2019, traversing cities such as Fiche, Debre Markos, Bahirdar, Gondar, Axum, Mekelle, and Woldiya. Within the two trips we managed to reach more than 12, 000 students from around 70 schools. Our next trip will be in May 2021 to the cities of Arba Minch, Konso, Jinka, and Sawla. BC: Astrobus always travels to different places. How do you decide when to undertake the next project? YF: [The] ambition of Astrobus-Ethiopia is to reach students from all corners of Ethiopia through its series of events. In the past, the team has travelled to the north and the south of Ethiopia. This year, the team plans to travel to the Lower Omo valley, the south west of Ethiopia, which is known for its extraordinary cultural diversity; approximately 8 ethnic groups; and striking ecosystems including grasslands and pristine forests, and other natural wonders. Omotic-speakers are endemic to the south Omo and include the Ari, Maale, Daasanach, the Hamar-Banna. The region is home to the vast omo park, and the massive Gibe III dam built on the Omo river. BC: What are the challenges that you usually face executing [a] project of this kind (funding, language barriers, local schools – private, public, etc…)? YF: The main challenges we face in organising the Astrobus events are primarily securing enough funding, establishing a functional local organising committee in the localities we travel to, and finding event locations. Moreover, due to the fast-changing nature of the Ethiopian social and political situation, ensuring [the] safety of our team during the trip and having legal permission to securely hold the event is a constant challenge. BC: For the upcoming workshops in May, which will be done in collaboration with [the] As you go… Project, you were able to conduct research trip before undertaking [the] workshops. Can you discuss the difference this had from other trips in the past? YF: Yes – the seed funding for this year’s Astrobus-Ethiopia event is obtained from the As you go… Project, which is also supported by the CURTAIN Project (of Rockbund Art Museum). We also raised some funding from the Ethiopian Space Science Technology Institute and Ethiopian Space Science Society. What makes this year’s event preparation different is that we were able to do a research trip to learn about the cultural context of the areas we travelled to and had the opportunity to connect with local organisers before the event. The information we collected helped us adapt our science, art, and technology activities to suit the social and ecological context of the people we will meet. Another new element is how we formed the art team. This year in collaboration with the bruhartclub , we conducted an open call to artists to propose events. We had a total of 165 applications, from which we selected 10 applicants from Visual Art, Creative Filmmaking, Photography, Street Art, Literature, Poetry, Music, Fashion design, Architecture, Metal Art, Gaming Video Editing, and Graphics Design. Pre-trip SummaryFeb 2021 The Drive On the way to the destination stops, we visited the following areas and our journey tracks below: · Left Addis Ababa at around 7am. We got stuck in traffic, and we were only able to leave Addis around 8pm. · Stopped at Tiya to visit the Tiya Stelles (Tikel Dingay), where we spent 0.5-1hr. · Stopped for breakfast/lunch at Butajira around 11am. Details of the expenses can be found in this google sheet . Objective of the Trip The main goal of the pre-trip was to study the current social and political situations in the four main destinations of Astrobus-Ethiopia 2021: Arba Minch, Dorze, Konso, and Jinka. We wanted to understand the cultural context while paying particular attention to the following: · What do people eat? What type of music do they listen to? How do they dance? · What are their main economical tools? · What are their histories?· Who are their heroes? · What are the parts of their culture they are most proud of? What elements do they want other people to know about? · What are the main concerns of the young people? Economical? Situational? · Who are the people and initiatives that are doing well in the area/region? · Who are the local role models? In addition, the trip had another main objective of setting up local organisers, who help facilitate the event, by reaching out to Schools, Universities, and local administrative bureaus. Finding local organisers, whoever volunteers and lives in the area, is key to the success of the project. They assist in contacting schools and other organizations necessary for coordination of the event. In all places, the majority speak Amharic, so there is no issue in communication. Everywhere in our pre-trial, we used local guides to more intimately understand the history, culture, and values of the people in the localities we visit. All the communities we visited are located within a town, city, or in the suburbs, which means they are easily accessible. The roads to all visited areas are in very good condition, with no need for a special car. The road from Addis to Jinka is asphalt, and of good standard. Two people embarked on research trip in February: Yababel Fataye and Sinkneh Eshetu. Both of the main objectives above were reached. Places and People Tiya (ጢያ) Tiya Stele: 500-600 year old decorated gravestones. There has been very little research on these stones, and the many questions regarding the people who built it remain unanswered. The symbols in the stele include: swords, pillows, enset (a false banana tree whose trunk provides the staple food of the region), and a few others which are not yet well understood. The is an archaeological site in central Ethiopia located in the Garage Zone of the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples Region south of Addis Ababa. It is along the way to Arba Minch with an easily accessible road. Arba Minch Arbaminch (meaning 40 springs), is the water house of the country. It has countless springs that are a clean source of the city’s drinking water and hosts two lakes – the Abbaya & Chammo Lakes – connected by what is named the God Bridge. It has one of the most beautiful forests and grasslands. The nech sar is one of the iconic national parks of Ethiopia. Dorze The Dorze people, a small tribe of around 50,000, who speak the omotic langange: the Dorze language, are famous in Ethiopia for their exceptional weaving skills, delicious food, and particular style of dance and music. They reside in highland villages near the cities of Chencha and Arbaminch. Despite being very small in number, they are all over the country and produce most of the nation’s traditional cotton cloths. Konso Konso Villages. The Konso Village, with its special cultural landscape is a UNESCO world heritage. [1] The villages that date back 21 generations (400 years) are fortified settlements in the Konso highlands of Ethiopia with stone-walled terraces. Generation poles, which represent the village’s 19 year cycle power transition, provide [an] accurate dating of the village. The community open houses provide night shelter for the youth who take turns sleeping there to ensure the security of the village. The Konso people are also known for their excellent farming strategies, one example being their multi-season crop management that allows them to collect two to three yields from a single seeding. The Konso speak the Konso Language, similar to the Oromigna language, which is spoken by the larger Oromo people. Hammer At Hammer, a Bull jumping Ceremonial event. Hammer, the name for the place and its people, are well known for their strong cultural and social cohesion. They are a small population of around 75,000 and speak the Hamer-Banna language. The bull jumping ritual ceremony represents a rite of passage for a man to own properties, form a family, and become a full member of the community. For women, it is the ability to bore a child. Jinka Meeting with an Aari family to learn about their culture. Jinka, a city in the lower Omo valley with a multi-ethnic society. The Aari people are the main tribe in the region, speaking the Aari language which is an Omotic language. The Aari people have one of the cleanest compounds and their houses [are] well kept – an incredible sensitivity to beauty and sanitation. They are known for their blacksmith and pottery skills, and their excellent music wins many hearts in the country, recognised for its exceptional tune and vibe. Ari people A traditional Ari woman painter observing us leaving her compound after she demonstrated the process she uses to make colors to us, and then painted her favourite pattern. Questions: Where do Ari people leave [to]/live? What is [the] social structure? General observations Temperature is hot but not humid until you reach Arba Minch, and so there is largely no need for air conditioning. The road from Wolaita Sodo to Arba Minch is very good. Tiya (ጢያ) castells are a source of historical, archaeological, forensic, pattern reading for the project context. There may be a plan to decode 100 symbols from tiya tikel dengaye (note: ask for the Southern people to name what it represents for them, then analyse data and make an inference). Gamo and Gofa zone. Dorze is in a Gamo zone. The drive from Arba Minch is a pista road on the mountain. Project Ideas With the assumption that we could motivate, inspire, and connect better with our audience if the things we do are relevant to their needs and interests, we brainstormed with the local communities. Some of the points and suggestions forwarded are as follows (Astrobus travellers may consider to link their projects with any of these): Arba Minch Netchsar National Park 1. Counting and classifying the Arba Minch forest trees 2. Counting and classifying the wildlife at Netchsar? Banana and other products 1. Identifying disease in some major crops such as Banana Waste disposal 1. Handling and transforming domestic waste such as plastic bottles Unemployment, Moral Development, and Entrepreneurship 1. Motivating the spirit of moral leadership, entrepreneurship, and innovation Sport 1. Creating physically and mentally healthy generation Music 1. The technologies behind making and enjoying music Food 1. Traditional foods 2. Healthy foods Dorze Architecture 1. Innovations in traditional architecture 2. Bamboo technologies Weaving 1. Technologies in cloth making, such as weaving and dying 2. Fashion design Food 1. Inset Music Pottery Konso Architecture and cultural landscape Human Origin 1. Human origin and distribution (genetics) 2. Cultural exchange 3. A child innovator – who made interesting attempts at inventing Jinka Art – working with the traditional women artists, probably using a different materials Craft – blacksmith Brewery Sawla Not visited The Food ኵርኵፉ: ማሽላ (በቆሎ እኞኪ) ፣ ጐመን ቡላ ፍርፍር: ውሃ እየተርከፈከፈ ዱቄቱ እየታመሰ ፍርፍር ይሆናል ፎሰሴ: አደንጋሬ፣ ጓመን ፣ በቆሎ ቁጢ (ሃይታ ቱኬ) ሻይ: ነጭ ሽንኩርት፣ ድምብላል ፣ ቀይ ሽንኩርት፣ ጭቁኝ ፣ ጨው ሙቿ: ቡላ ፍርፍር ብላንዶ: ቆጮ በበላቄ ባጭራ: ቆጮ በወተት ኤፔላ ቅቤ ፍርፍር Dr Yabebal. Fantaye is an Astrophysicist and a data scientist. [1] “Konso Cultural Landscape,” World Heritage List, United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation | World Heritage Convention, https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1333/ Previous Next

< Back Belgrade Calling Coronavirus entry 25 Apr 2020 Katarina Kostandinović DIARY ENTRY no1. A few weeks ago, right after the WHO has announced the COVID-19 outbreak a pandemic, I found myself scrolling through the internet in search of some news explaining what that means. Since the beginning of the 21 st century there’s been two pandemics, the first one was the 2009 flu pandemic or the so-called swine flu, and the second one is the current coronavirus pandemic. Also since the beginning of the new century there’s been numerous deadly epidemics worldwide – Ebola, SARS (another zoonotic disease caused by the SARS coronavirus), just to name two. I cannot recall the situation in Serbia during the 2009 pandemic, and probably the situation then (even though just a decade ago) was a lot different… DIARY ENTRY no2. The situation with the coronavirus in Belgrade began its outbreak in the second week of March, almost a few weeks after the scandalous press conference of the Crisis Management arm of the Government of the Republic of Serbia and medical experts. While the epidemic was on the rise in Italy, Serbian government officials and experts made jokes about the “funniest” virus in human history, and that the Serbian people had endured so much suffering and distress over the past three decades that such a virus would be nothing to “us”. More than a month has passed since the conference, the number of people infected in Serbia is increasing day by day, intercity and inner-city public transportation has been stopped, a curfew has been introduced in all cities from 5pm to 5am during weekdays, and a total lockdown during weekends. News reports say that this is the biggest movement restriction since World War II. DIARY ENTRY no3. Like most people in the world I now work from home, programs in public and private institutions across Serbia are suspended until further notice, only markets and shops operate. Every day is the same, I wake up, scroll through the news online that contain corona headlines, foreign, domestic news, everyone reports the same, and statistics change day by day. I don’t have a TV, so I filter sources and information as much as possible. We are forced to minimize our daily habits and even abolish them, but somehow the human psyche is resilient and wants to test whether things will really “explode”, waiting and doing things the way we are used to. The flow of time is strange, my days have never passed faster, and leisure and working time blend into one another. The very thought of future projects becomes a hazy projection, and the question that logically arises is: does it matter at this point? All of a sudden everything becomes bizarre, like a commercial for space travel. I’m thinking the virus could mutate and turn some into feverish zombies who cough and sneeze at people, and these people immediately turn into them and continue to spread the virus. Something between the Jim Jarmusch movie “ The Dead Don’t Die ” and British apocalypse comedy “ Shaun of the Dead ”. That seems like a good idea for a comic book in the graphic form of “ The End of The Fucking World ”. DIARY ENTRY no4. Overwhelmed and frustrated. Don’t make a podcast – I keep telling myself. Spend less time on Instagram, post less on Instagram. I am so surrounded by all this social media content that it just pressures me to produce something similar. But then I realize how stupid that sounds, and continue scrolling. Then again, in what other situation would I say,“let’s see which opera is streaming now on Vimeo?” By now, a large number of institutions and organizations have cancelled and/or rescheduled their programmes, coming up with meaningful ways to re-design them and finding innovative ways of communication and presentation. But then the logical question arises: what after? Is all this content temporary? The internet is already a space of overproduction, it is already becoming overwhelmed with loads of information, virtual tours, podcasts and other content. Social media platforms are the perfect virtual meeting places, so it is only natural that as museums and galleries are closing their doors they are focusing on their online accounts. Many are sharing videos, live streams and online events etc. The movement and circulation of images and words is quite literally what we all do. I think it’s important to look at online programs not as a space to memorialize the exhibitions that were, or the exhibitions that could have been, but as its own medium – some installation shots, a few photos collected together, or a virtual tour just isn’t enough. Many articles also appear to suggest the acceptance of this new pace, us slowing down in this state of uncertainty, staying at home to rethink our future plans, if any. Being surrounded by such overwhelming digital content makes me think about different ways of rethinking accessibility, archiving, and documentation of the “site specific” content. DIARY ENTRY no5. It seems that slowing down and accepting this new pace isn’t beneficial for everyone, like some lifestyle blogs are suggesting. Due to COVID-19 we are also facing the biggest economic crisis since 2008. Many Serbian people, gastarbeiters, migrant workers, freelancers that are living abroad are being faced (or threatened) with job losses and forced to return to Serbia. Public funds for culture in Serbia are definitely going to be reduced even though for years now the sum has been very modest, except of some special (state) cultural projects. Many independent spaces, freelance curators and independent artists are, even more than before, very much endangered. Just before the COVID-19 outbreak in Europe it came to my attention that many contracts made with public institutions that facilitate exhibitions and discursive programmes don’t have provisions concerning change of circumstances of the contract in the case of “higher power” (as it literally translates from Serbian – “viša sila”). Many contracts between institutions and independent workers are made in a way that exclusively protects the institution where the event takes place, and all responsibility rests entirely with the other party. For example, I was invited by two artists to curate their exhibition in one public institution in Belgrade scheduled to open in mid-March. Having realized the severity of the situation, the number of infected people increasing, Italy “shutting down”, we urged the institution to postpone the exhibition, explaining that all public institutions would soon cancel their programmes and declare a State of Emergency. Representatives of that institution threatened us with a lawsuit, however luckily we succeeded to cancel the exhibition two days before the opening, and without any legal consequences. DIARY ENTRY no6. I found myself google searching for photos regarding environmental changes caused by major industries shutting down, banned tourism and social distancing. There are many images of clearer water in Venice canals, “clear” sky over China and Europe, wildlife walking the streets of UK. There is also a sense of immense solidarity among people, helping endangered groups during the pandemic, sharing and delivering food and other supplies. I then scroll through some conspiracy theories and fake news (to humor myself) – most interesting are those about 5G network, and Dean Koontz’s novel “Eyes of Darkness”, among others. And there are many google searches about those who seek to benefit out of the situation, and these are mainly politicians. The State of Emergency in a way blurs some priorities in the time of movement restrictions and raises alarms about how human rights are being balanced against the risks posed by COVID-19. It seems like a flashback from a recent history; something is rotten in the state of Serbia.The most dramatic example in Europe so far has been Hungary, where Prime Minister Orban used his Fidesz Party’s parliamentary majority late last month to push through legislation that allows him to rule by decree for an indefinite period of time. Though his government says the measures are necessary to protect lives, there are worries that Hungary, a member of the European Union and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, has become an effective dictatorship [ 1] . Similar accusations are being made about the Serbian President, who shut down the country’s parliament as part of an open-ended State of Emergency he declared on March 15. The army has since been deployed to parts of the country, a 5 p.m. to 5 a.m. curfew is in effect and people older than 65 have been banned from leaving their homes. And a recent public debate about the Government’s decision on information duringthe coronavirus pandemic, which prohibits crisis staff of municipalities and cities from giving information to the local media and the public regarding public health, just proves these suspicions right. Luckily the decision will not come into effect, due to many protests coming from the EU, but it seems that it was definitely motivated by the case of the journalist from Novi Sad being detained by the Serbian police after writing a critical text on the handling of the coronavirus epidemic. [ 2] (Not a conclusion) It seems that all we can do is wait and hope for the best. The urgent is highly likely to crowd out the important. We can just speculate the options for a world after the pandemic. The COVID-19 pandemic is a new kind of crisis, one that involves testing the behaviors and beliefs of billions of people, and that has public health, economic, political, social, psychological and cultural dimensions. Katarina Kostandinović is an art historian and curator based in Belgrade, Serbia. [1] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/mar/30/hungary-jail-for-coronavirus-misinformation-viktor-orban [2] https://www.rferl.org/a/serbian-journalist-detained-questioned-over-critical-coronavirus-article/30525582.html Previous Next

Program Participant Activities Events Lecture Series 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 < Mentors Educational Program Menu >

Jelica Jovanovic < Back Disappeared – appeared: selo – BOR – grad village – BOR – city Jelica Jovanovic Previous Next

Alumni Alumni Lecture Series Participant Activities Alumni < Mentors Educational Program Menu >

Tīna Pētersone < Back Present Perfect Continuous Tīna Pētersone Imagine you are an actor in some theatre play. You sit somewhere in the foreground of the stage, totally absorbed by the character you ’ re playing. Then, driven by some arbitrary impulse, you give a cursory glance around and realise that all set decoration has disappeared; even worse — you suddenly have found yourself in a completely different play. That ’ s how I feel about my recent weeks, trying to find a new orientation in time and space. On some sunny March morning I was running across a local park in South East London, not having the slightest idea that just twelve hours later I will run through it once again, though, by force, not a choice to leave everything — my flat, my friends, the life I have built there — to catch the last minute flight back home. Borders were shut the day after, and many of my friends were trapped where they are without a chance to leave. I got lucky. Since the day I arrived back home, I haven ’ t been outdoors for 762 hours and 53 minutes. Hours quickly turn into days, coalesce into weeks and surely will stretch into months. As the days go by and I’m still trying to adapt to the new reality, I cannot help but think about lines from ’ The Waste Land ’ by T. S. Elliot. He writes: ‘ The past should be altered by the present as much as the present is directed by the past ’ . [1] Suddenly new conditions have changed the meaning of beliefs that seemed solid: time passes faster in stillness, negative results bring success, rapid developments don ’ t translate into progress. In some strange way, I have learnt to live with the immobility and accept it as my ‘new normal’ now. Needless to say, I am fed up with the self-isolation and I terribly miss human interaction (as I reckon, most of us do), but I have grown to see being by myself as a valuable opportunity to work on various forms of self-care: self-discipline, self-initiative, self-reflection. A couple of days ago I watched a rousing TED conversation with an American author Elizabeth Gilbert, she seemed so sagacious and radiated an air of serenity. A sentence she said got me thinking: ‘Presence is a gift and challenge in this time. ’ [2] Indeed, these recent weeks have let me discover a new perspective on ‘ presence ’ and how multifaceted this concept is. Strangely, in contrast to many people, online house parties, live yoga classes, DJ-set live streams, Netflix communal watching and collective Zoom calls don ’ t cheer me up, rather deepen my longing for real-life experiences. Though, pondering upon the future, it has prompted me to ask — what are the facets of ‘presence’? How can we think of presence as a powerful quality for professional and personal development? Presence as the state of being present. What I appreciate the most about the prolonged seclusion is the time to think. Engross into things that truly matter and enjoy them wholeheartedly without distractions; fully embrace moments of aloneness and use them for introspection. The essence of an independent curator is a cosmopolitan one. Hopping between cities and countries comes along with a constant shift between realities and temporalities. To get a foot in the door of the highly competitive field of arts, one has to ‘master the art ofliving with a chronic instability’. [3] Although the pursuit of curator ’ s career teaches mental flexibility, it also forces to do everything ‘ in time-lapse’ — forbidding to delve deeper into a single activity and, instead, hastily jump onto the ‘next big thing’. The crisis has forced me to press a ‘pause’ button and push myself into a self-prescribed self-immersion therapy. Getting to the root, feeling the flow, letting inner consciousness lead the way. The highly praised, so-called, ‘superstar curators’ and ‘artist-entrepreneurs’ have implanted in us the harmful ideal to have something ‘going on’ all the time: let it be doing research, writing proposals, seeking for funding, visiting studios or negotiating with exhibition venues. I hope the moment of solitude will help us — curators, artists, creatives and society overall — to shed this destructive pressure and follow your own vision. Presence as the immediate proximity of a person or thing. Geographer Yi-Fu Tuan has rightly pointed out: ‘ What is there in a culture that is not a form of escape? ’ [4] Paradoxically, in times of crisis, while culture comforts us and helps to deal with everyday life, it is the first to experience financial cutbacks. Which seems even more duplicitous, considering that artists are the ones cultivating nation’s heritage and cultural scene. Our ability to build a more healthy and equitable art world lies in the power of joint effort. We have to learn to be more open and accepting to wider audiences, but first of all — build trust and cooperation among each other. In countries where the contemporary art discourse is still in a relatively early stage, there’s only a small circle of people who do art, curate art, observe art and write about art. I see this tiny ‘art bubble’ as very discouraging for constructive discussions and critical thought development within the local art scene. I ’ m tired of conversations that just state how bad the situation is, but don ’ t provide any solutions, just leave me with a bitter aftertaste. I think we can grow much more, both collectively and independently if we put an effort into nurturing and establishing networks. Be friendly, but keep a professional relationship. Support each other, but give honest feedback. Be responsive, but focus on our individual thing. Presence as personal appearance or bearing. Crises shape history, and I believe that we, curators, have power in our hands to shape it for better. We could say we are creators whose material is the work of others — but in any case, the role of a mediator is inescapable. If we go along with the infamous curator’s Harald Szeemann ’ s idea of ‘ artists as the best societal seismographs ’ [5] , curators, similarly to seismologists who study earthquakes and their waves, cross-examine ‘movers and shakers’ of the social and political climate. This unprecedented time has taught me to not to underestimate the power of change in the society. I often wish I had more courage to do what I wish to do and take part in shaping public thought. Once and for all it ’ s time to get rid of the paralysing fear of failure. Fear of being judged, being seen, being public. Instead, learn to be self-sufficient without a necessity to prove anything to anyone. We can make a difference. We are needed. Take time. Take as much as you need. But make good use of it. Tīna Pētersone is an independent curator and a writer based in London/Riga. [1] Eliot, T. S. (1999). The waste land: and other poems . London: Faber and Faber. [2] TED. (2020). It’s OK to feel overwhelmed. Here’s what to do next . Available at: https://youtu.be/oNBvC25bxQU . (Accessed: 21 Apr 2020). [3] Gielen, P., & McGregor, C. (2010). The murmuring of the artistic multitude: Global art, memory and post-Fordism. Amsterdam: Valiz. P. 38. [4] Sugar, R. (2019). The Great Escape . Available at: https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2019/8/7/20749177/escape-room-game . (Accessed: 11 Jan 2020). [5] Carolee, T. (2009). On Curating: Interviews with Ten International Curators . New York, NY: D.A.P./Distributed Art Publishers. Previous Next

Curators: Biljana Ciric, Larys Frogier, Billy Tang < Back Newly commissioned project by RAM Jasphy Zheng: Stories from the Room 7 Nov 2020 Rockbund Art Museum is very pleased to announce our collaboration with Jasphy Zheng on Stories from the Room (Shanghai), 2020 , a newly commissioned project initiated by the artist and supported by RAM CURTAIN New Commissions Series . Invited by Larys Frogier, director of Rockbund Art Museum, Stories from the Room is an ongoing work conceived by Jasphy Zheng, who will present her two-year Stories from the Room project as a temporary installation hosted by the museum. Her project will be occupy the museum building during its temporary closure from 2020.11.07 to 2021.01.03. With the current situation of uncertainty, where we are subjected to varying degrees of isolation, the project is a process to connect various places and people together, beginning with the motivation to archive a growing collection of personal writing responding to lived experiences of the current ‘new normal’. Re-defining the engagement between artist, institution and the audience by going beyond the conventional exhibition structure, Stories from the Room will be extended through the As you go… roads under your feet towards the new future research platform initiated by independent curator Biljana Ciric, and the project will be presented across multiple countries including Japan, Australia, China, Kazakhstan, Serbia and Ethiopia. Initially staged at the CCA Kitakyushu early this year , Stories from the Room was first realized as a response to the outbreak of the pandemic. The project has since expanded as a concept beyond a traditional archival in collaboration with a community of contributors spanning different continents and regions. Through this dialogue, the archive encompasses many different forms and languages through each encounter with a different public space – many of these spaces have faced different degrees of opening and closure that have influenced how the audience is able to engage with her project. Participants have been encouraged to contribute daily to share personal observations, memories, and reflections, with each contributor having a dedicated folder as a permanent part of the archive. In this way, Zheng provides a vital conduit for a diverse collection of voices to convene together in order to express, challenge, or respond to the difficulties of our current situation. Through each iteration, the archive raises different questions, reflecting the divergent realities and experiences of people and places who contribute to the development of this project. In the moment of closure before the Rockbund Art Museum’s renovation, the artist has fabricated a series of delicately-made copper objects to occupy the space for Stories from the Room (Shanghai), 2020 . As custodians of the archive, we will continue the work of updating and regularly maintaining the archive as it grows through the iteration that occupies our space in Shanghai. Scattered across the floors of our empty museum building, the metallic objects add a sculptural dimension to the project for audiences to explore freely. This subtle interaction with the museum adds another layer to the project as slowly, long-lasting ties begin to emerge between our staff and the archive. We sincerely welcome you to join this journey, exploring questions related to the boundaries between public and privacy, distance and intimacy during these uncertain times. May we embrace the uncertainties and challenges together. Please note that we do not accept on-site registration, kindly make an appointment before your visit. Access is limited. For more information, please refer to the rules and information available at “Booking Registration” below. Stories from the Room (Shanghai), 2020 is produced with generous support from Longlati Foundation. Booking Registration To visit Stories from the Room (Shanghai), 2020 at the Rockbund Art Museum, contributors to the open call related to this project will need to book in advance through email. Booking requests are subjected to a first come first serve booking process. If unable to attend, these contributors will also receive the ability to transfer the invitation to another person to attend on their behalf. Contributors can contact via email jasphy.opencall@gmail.com for more details related to the reservation procedure. Please note that we do not accept on-site registration. Please contribute in advance and visit the archive in accordance to our guidelines after receiving this confirmation. Appointments are open to RAM members, sponsors and friends. For more information, please inquire 021-63216251. Answering time: Monday to Friday 11:00-18:00. Submission Information If you would like to participate in this ongoing project, please refer to guidance below: Write about your days, thoughts or feelings, at any length and in any language you prefer Ensure your submission includes a name, location and date Send your writings to jasphy.opencall@gmail.com Each contributor will have a dedicated folder in the archive and multiple submissions over time are welcomed Please note that we are unable to include contributions in the form of image only. This open call in collaboration with RAM is a two-year project with the deadline of December 30th, 2022. The archives in the space will continue to expand with successive iterations as the project is displayed around the world. Please note: contributors volunteer free of charge to contribute to this project with the understanding their writing will be visible to different public displays as an on-going project by the artist Jasphy Zheng. Therefore, participants confirm their consent for the reproduction and usage of the content submitted for the display at Rockbund Art Museum, but also including future usages elsewhere as part of a continuous archival project initiated by the artist. Contributors must ensure to avoid the disclosure of private information in the submission. Submissions will not be returned to the contributor and will remain as part of the artwork. Submitted writings will be organized into the archive at Rockbund Art Museum weekly. About the Artist Living between the US and China, Jasphy Zheng is an interdisciplinary artist whose practice most recently explores the inevitable failure of communication, both on an interpersonal and collective level. Using social installations, unannounced performances, sculptural objects, and artist’s books, Zheng constructs situations as public interventions that aim to raise awareness of our social and cultural environment, both in and out of the context of contemporary art. Zheng graduated with a BFA from the Rhode Island School of Design. Stories from the Room Project Plan Center for Contemporary Art Kitakyushu, Japan, 2020.05.18 – 2020.09.25 Rockbund Art Museum, China, 2020.11.07 – 2021.01.03 TarraWarra Museum of Art, Australia, 2020.08.30 – 2021.07.11 Ethiopia, October 2020 – ongoing Kazakhstan, End of 2020 – ongoing Serbia, End of 2020 – ongoing CURTAIN As you go… roads under your feet towards the new future Click to read Chinese version Previous Next

< Back On Not Hearing the Gunfire 20 Aug 2020 Su Wei In the wake of the COVID-19 epidemic, January of this year marked the beginning of social distancing which was to last for months. During these months, China’s cities, towns, and villages were subjected to a strict system of control initiated and implemented by its bureaucratic institution. This system monitored citizens’ life and activities on social media, with the help of so-called grid management, big data, and a large number of officials “sinking” into the local community. This approach, on top of the voluntary self-surveillance of the public, did help to effectively stem the spread of the virus. Nonetheless, at the same time, inter-personal relations built upon local neighborhoods and communities—which had already been tenuous and fast-disappearing—were destroyed in the process. The virus has confined people to their homes. In metropolises such as Beijing, such a singular state of affairs has turned the pandemic into an “information war”, as people are wrapped up in a world constructed by mobile phone screens. WeChat , a social media platform recently sanctioned by the U.S. government and long monitored by the Chinese government, has become the main channel for people to learn about the outside world and to express their complex emotions surrounding the pandemic. Because the platform itself can be both official (almost all official media has public WeChat blogs) and private, all the while being censored, public and private life become very closely intertwined in a bizarre and unsettling way. Covid-19 Nucleic Acid Detection in a University campus, photo credit: Su Wei This situation continues today, even while the pandemic has been declared to be completely under control in China. It is a moment in time when the world in your phone and your everyday life have truly collapsed into one another. Not only do you have to produce your “health certificate” on your phone whenever you go into a public place, but you also have to make conscious—even strenuous—efforts to discern valuable ideas and judgements from the more perilous ones when confronting messages and discussions on your phone from different friends and fields. Such discernment can be very difficult, even sometimes, schizophrenic. At the end of January, and almost at the same time the outbreak of the epidemic hit its peak, I officially resigned from my job as a senior curator at an art museum in Beijing, in the hopes of rediscovering the fields beyond the staged scenes of power struggle. For a long time, I couldn’t leave my mobile phone either, although I knew how one-sided and biased the observations through it can be, and how expressions made through it could not avoid being performative, let alone being mostly improvisational and opportunistic by nature. The art world has been squirming in pain after Chinese New Year. This pain first came from the capital world as well as the art market, and the online fair of Art Basel, Hong Kong matched this mood. The art world then brimmed over with discussions under the aegis of “art and pandemic”, with all kinds of undigested online creations and lecture series, each proposing new ways of thinking about our current context. To be fair, the art community has always shown a spirit of dissatisfaction with the status quo, albeit a spirit that is also sometimes rare, and has been consistently on the wane since the year 2000. Nevertheless, some of the recent creations and opinions continue to deeply reveal our misconceptions about contemporaneity, as well as how untenable this fragile, short-lived sense of the contemporary actually is. In other words, our sense of the contemporary cannot stand even the slightest interrogation, be it humanistic or that about the actual logic behind knowledge production. What really gave me a strong sense of crisis was the outbreak of the BLM campaign. It spread across Chinese social networks at a lesser speed and with weaker intensity than the civil protest movements did several years ago, including the Wall Street movement, Hong Kong’s Occupy Central and the yellow umbrella movements. To explain our lukewarm reaction to the campaign, we need more than the simple fact that local social media platforms, such as WeChat, have not played an important role in China’s social life for very long. Not sufficient, either, is the fact that Facebook and Twitter have been banned for a while. Rather, the steep decrease in the communication effect of the BLM campaign reflects a change in people’s mentality. The Chinese cultural scene caught in various discourses of state, individuals, nation, imperialism, market, freedom, etc. is inevitably falling apart, and the once shared feeling for the oppressed has been substituted by that of defending national interests. In China, people have long regarded the race issue as a product of the United States, ignoring its pervasive presence among themselves. Moreover, debates about justice and equality have faded into the background, along with those between the New Left and liberals back in the 1990s – those debates have now rendered themselves footnotes to nationalist contentions where racial issues are concerned. The racist “scenes” and “misunderstandings” we all experience abroad are often reduced—in an alienating way—to “common knowledge,” and are often dismissed as irrelevant, as if they “only happen to other people.” It so seems that the issue of race is much less important than that of class, which apparently concerns more Chinese people. The value of such names as Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner and George Floyd invariably seem to be of secondary importance here. Hong Kong during the Umbrella Movement, 2014, photo credit: Su Wei As the confrontation between China and The United States—which began last year—has recently been radically escalating, a division between the left and the right is gradually revealing itself in the cultural sphere. Such a schism, however, was otherwise disappearing in the context of the neoliberal economy. The professedly more critical left constantly draw upon the historical legacy of the “first thirty years“ (1949-1979) in their interpretations of today, whereas the liberals are having difficulty negotiating a space amidst the ideological struggle between China and the Western world. Both sides are engaged in a tightrope-walking practice, the dangers of which, however, are again obvious: one either skids to the nationalist left or hits the nihilist right. Meanwhile, at the public level, nationalism has reached its zenith with government support, while the recent military confrontation between China and the United States only further aggravates the situation. What is emerging in the cultural and public spheres imposes a strain on China’s art world. Admittedly, art inevitably exists in the world, but what better describes the situation is that the art community in China have been passively mobilized at this time – their motivation and self-awareness subsequently still subject to scrutiny. The nationalism and nihilism of the country as a whole have penetrated the art world on all fronts. Despite the fact that the Chinese art community does not often reveal their political stances—not an entirely conscious choice, though, since such practices can also be gestures of withdrawal—a certain collective unconscious is indeed being fashioned by the radical changes in the cultural and social realms. Globalization, though long proven to be problematic, remains the ultimate faith of many because it is so difficult to confront the local situation squarely – we find ourselves in desperate want of courage, motivation, and appeals when facing the local. Though there are yet more problems. When immersed in the world within their mobile phones, the Chinese art community (unsurprisingly) shows yet again, a certain ‘bluntness’—or rather an insensitivity to the reality. Private conversations on WeChat or its more secure alternatives (sometimes one must avoid Wechat censorship) are often characterized by opportunistic arguments that can constantly shift grounds from the left to the right. Such arguments can hardly leave space for future thoughts and are often no more than vehicles for one’s moral superiority, and obsessive confidence in one’s own knowledge. For the art practitioners who are already safely middle-class, and even part of the high society, they are equipped with a strong sense of reality as a result of their frequent travels between East and West: their friendships with Western art institutions; their expensive apartments and cars in major cities including Beijing and Shanghai; the education privilege their children would enjoy; and not least of all, the skyrocketing costs of artistic creation in recent years. Nevertheless, in the meantime, the truly complex battles in the real world have been telescoped, and the struggles of real people in faraway places are condensed into manageable sizes. Such a simplistic approach to reality also leads to an intentional oversight or partial sight when it comes to value judgements: they would hold fast to a value that they identify with, such as “freedom” in abstraction. Such is the art world in the cell phone. Self-proclaimed liberals spreading around excitable gossip about authoritarian governments. Some fantasize that they belong to the White middle-class and thus venerate the unfavorable coverage of China in the Western media. The more ambitious, on the other hand, fantasize that they are the country per se and earnestly devise all kinds of solutions to remedy the status quo. There are also many nationalists in the art world who embrace the “local” and “grassroots”, and regard them as localization enterprises – as a result, fully accepting the value system they entail. But there is no protest. I do not mean protest in the sense of the dissent. We do not even need to mention the risks it involves to be a dissenter. I mean instead, that we lack the kind of thinking produced right in the middle of the quagmire named reality, and that we lack, even more, the ability to look squarely into the clues that has helped fashion today’s reality. Perhaps the present art community in China should first learn how to go to the streets: to participate in movements, to debate with others in complex contexts, to create tools to resist police assaults, and to put down their cell phones. We can only point out, in a way that is rather pessimistic, that the art world in China teems with all varieties of performativity. The sense of the contemporary has not been fully internalized, yet one is already eager to demonstrate one’s superior knowledge. Such piecemeal knowledge, adulterated by various motivations and sophistication, are however not solid grounds for discussion. Behind such knowledge demonstrations are one’s appeal to power. One is adept at using one’s moral stance as a banner, or wielding it a weapon in attacking others. One sometimes does it with a loud battle cry, while at other times deliberately concealing one’s real stance. One can be good at posing as either politically correct or incorrect, depending on the situation, to enchant or to mislead younger art practitioners. One masquerades as a student in front of one’s seniors to gain resources, while acting as the authority in front of their younger peers to obtain power. All of these have been undermining the already rarefied atmosphere of art discussion. A Studio exhibition in Beijing, 2020, photo credit: Su Wei Some artists, however, chose to quietly rise against this absurd reality in the Chinese art world. Their agenda focuses on more physical participation, and seeks to carve out a space to think by giving away part of one’s self. Wu Wenguang, an independent documentary filmmaker, has been continuing his decade-long Folk Memory Project during the pandemic. The project titled “Passing Through,” registers the process in which Wu, in Yunnan, experiences a special period together with other filmmakers located elsewhere, with whom he has been working for a long time. The way they experience this together is called “online yoga”: they share their experience within a day, read poetry, or communicate other reading experiences and document their “time together” through film. Other artists, who may not have been well known in the Chinese art world, and who lacked exhibition opportunities, did not give up their artistic creation because of the pandemic or the pressure brought about by the survival pleas prevalent in the art world. Some of them work with a simple attitude and do not deliberately avoid real-life pressure. They polish their work in their own studios and through studio exhibitions initiated by artists themselves, thus finding a balance between art and reality. It is easier to experience a moderate sense of honesty, as well as palatable performativity, in such creations – especially when they are compared with certain works and exhibitions too eager to engage with reality. In addition, within the past few years there has been a number of artists and groups guided by left-wing ideas, who have used practices that intentionally provoke officialdom to give a voice to marginalized groups, and to find creative impetus in the private sector. Creations of such are promising, though they may still seem to lack a clear methodology and are not as satisfying in terms of artistic quality and creativity. Outside of the art world, the online community Douban ( www.douban.com ) presents the convergence of diverse experiences and reflections of young Chinese from China and around the world. The vibrance it promises seems a world apart from today’s feeble and arrogant art world. Some cultural figures are also taking action. The official media ThePaper took the bold initiative to host a column dedicated to the BLM campaign, in which all points of view (including those by researchers) are cited and set to contest one another. Other media platforms such as Jiemian and Economic Observer’s Book Review (which have long been known for their focus on contemporary cultural changes and marginalized groups in China), have also endeavored to stage valuable discussions despite the atmosphere of intense political pressure. These rare and precious actions salvage from the reality, a little space for the future. We cannot hear the gunfire from the battlefield, but we must understand that the gunfire is already everywhere. Su Wei is an art writer and curator based in Beijing. Previous Next