Events Lecture Series Participant Activities Glossary l(a)unch: gender issues WCSCD started its transition through merging rural and urban with research on artistic practices in the region. The research was undertaken through educational program of WCSCD 2023/2024. We encountered the number of examples starting from early 70’s Oho Group, Family of Clear Streams, and some from recent past Gera Museum ( 2000’s). Our research was done though site visits and conversations. Places we visited Gera Museum, Family of Clear Streams were ruins or remains of what was originally there. What was originally there were communities or potentiality for creating one. Program participants developed glossary unpacking key words related to these practices in relation to art making, economy, politics, spirituality, and gender. During the research we spoke mostly with men hearing their stories and that fact left us troubled. What was the role of women in these communities? As a response to that WCSCD program participant, Laura Rositani developed keywords in relation to gender issues that lingered through field trips and conversations we had. Gender issues By Laura Rositani Our case studies revealed a recurring theme: the presence of gender issues. These issues encompass all aspects and concerns related to women's and men's lives - both in the social and art-making realms. In its original meaning, gender issues refers to the historic lack of inclusion and equality for women compared to men. It delves into the power dynamics between genders, their historical evolution, and how these dynamics play out across political, legal, economic, and cultural landscapes. Essentially, gender functions as a powerful social structure, shaping relationships between individuals and institutions in profound and lasting ways. Examining these issues through a gender lens exposes a web of interconnected inequalities. The experiences of men and women diverge dramatically due to unequal access to resources, participation opportunities, and agency. For example, the interviews with the men involved in our archive research served as a stark reminder of this disparity. Instances of sexual discrimination, gender stereotyping, and inappropriate language and conduct emerged during these conversations. It was incredibly difficult to find even a mention of women in these stories, despite the fact that their unseen presence was clearly the foundation upon which most of these projects, at least initially, achieved some measure of success. Women were the ones pulling the strings and holding everything together.[1] However, this crucial role was overshadowed by the overwhelming presence of male figures, whose dominance permeated every corner of the archival material. My observations of the case studies and the overall situation reveal a continuous pattern of women's contributions being either ignored or downplayed. This can be seen as a subtle but persistent form of violence that has relegated and continues to relegate women to the margins of history, artistic practice, and even their own lives as mothers, wives, and simply women. While the case studies don't offer definitive answers about how things could have been different, One can imagine that if these women had been afforded greater gender equality within their families and communities, the outcomes might have been more positive. I'm not suggesting that the projects wouldn't have faced challenges, but perhaps they could have failed in a more constructive way, allowing for a chance to rebuild on a stronger foundation. What remains now are ashes: untold or distorted stories under the oppressive gaze of patriarchy. Interestingly, one aspect I observed that could potentially bridge the gender gap and offer a path to healing is the shared love for the earth. Nature could serve as a common ground, fostering respect and understanding between genders. The Glass Ceiling and Beyond: Unveiling Women's Contributions The glass ceiling metaphor aptly describes the invisible barriers that women often face.This glossary literally refers to a glass box, a cage that confines women's achievements and obscures their impact. In this case, it's not just the barriers that are transparent - the very presence and contributions of women are rendered invisible. This invisibility extends beyond the encompassing art practice, politics, to all aspects of life. Our archive research exemplifies this phenomenon. Women are relegated to the margins of the stories, their contributions as active participants left untold or rarely acknowledged. They are primarily mentioned as wives and collaborators, never as the driving forces behind their communities. This is akin to them being confined within a glass cage, their achievements obscured and their impact minimized. Gender Blindness and the Lingering Shadow of Patriarchy Almost every encounter we had while researching showed the lingering presence of a patriarchal legacy and a lack of gender equality. Gender blindness refers to the failure of recognizing the unequal structure of gender relations: while it might seem like a neutral approach, it actually maintains the status quo and doesn't address the existing power imbalance. Furthermore, the lingering influence of a system that privileges men, continues to shape how we view and discuss gender. This dominance extends to language itself, where the terms used to describe women can often be a subtle form of violence. The research highlighted the need to recognize the crucial roles women played, beyond wives or companions. Moreover, the research exposed a shocking blindness towards these deeply rooted behaviors, a complete failure to recognize their significance and consequences. Co-creation Our research identified several instances where men positioned women as assistants, diminishing their contributions to community building and artistic endeavors. The concept of co-creation extends beyond the artworks themselves. It encompasses the very foundation of life within these communities. However, our research revealed a persistent pattern: while both men and women were undoubtedly involved in the creative process, women were consistently relegated to a subordinate role. This becomes particularly evident in the way women were described. They were partially acknowledged as "makers," but their intellectual contributions are erased. The language used never elevates them to the level of thinkers or authors. The power of stones and plants related to women’s knowledge Across many cultures, women have been the custodians of a vast universe of knowledge and skills related to healing plants, herbs, spices, and the hidden powers of minerals. This knowledge, passed down through generations from woman to woman, reflects a deep eco-sensitivity and connection to the natural world. Plant’s knowledge and other aspects of medicine were often labeled as witchcraft by patriarchal and religious authorities. Women who possessed and used this knowledge were often accused of witchcraft and persecuted, undergoing torture, trials, and death sentences.The repression of this knowledge, aimed to limit women's autonomy, consolidated male power and controlled access to natural resources. Women knew the medicinal properties of every plant, every herb, every root, and they used them to heal themselves, their children, and their communities. The witch hunt was a war against women, against their knowledge and their autonomy. While sexual and domestic violence were undoubtedly prevalent during this era, a deeper examination reveals the underlying economic, social, and structural factors that transformed women into perceived threats, requiring their elimination or confinement to subordinate roles.The witch hunt went beyond mere physical persecution; it aimed to dismantle an entire universe of knowledge and relationships that underpinned women's social power. In many pre-capitalist societies, women held significant economic and social roles, often serving as healers, herbalists, and caregivers. Their knowledge of natural remedies and practices posed a challenge to the emerging patriarchal and capitalist structures. Hence, the witch hunt served as a tool to subdue women's autonomy, suppress their knowledge, and confine them to predefined gender roles.[2] Our case studies reveal that some women possess a rich understanding of traditional knowledge systems related to plants and minerals. This knowledge, often passed down through generations, might involve interpreting subtle signs in the environment or using specific rituals to connect with nature. This process of women seemingly communicating with nature underscores the immense value of their relationship with the land. This deep understanding could be the very foundation for the art-agriculture projects they were developing.[3] [4] It's also clear that this knowledge wasn't previously considered in sufficient depth. Indeed, my (our) observations align with what happened in the past with the “witchcraft”: since women’s roles were not acknowledged, these stories have essentially erased them from the narrative, leading to their marginalization. Ruins as human and non-human resources: The places visited in relation to the practices being researched were all ruins. In some cases they were ruins in literal sense, where space was overtaken by nature and decay and in other sense (metaphorical) ruins of the idea or utopia of community. The intersection of ruins and feminism offers a rich and complex area of study. It provides a way to challenge traditional narratives, reclaim lost histories, and imagine more inclusive futures where women's contributions are recognized and valued. Through the feminist lens, the concept of ruins isn’t solely male-centric representations of fallen empires.Ruins could be re-examined to understand spaces traditionally associated with women's work, domestic life, and cultural practices. By studying the ruins from this perspective, we can attempt to reclaim the lost stories of women who contributed to these societies. Furthermore, according to Posthumanism (ist) theories, ruins become potent symbols of human impermanence and the possibility of coexistence with other forms of life beyond the human, criticizing human exceptionalism. According to this way of seeing things, ruins signifies not the end, but a blossoming of potential. As we delve into the depths of our archival research, we encounter the haunting presence of ruins - remnants of a once-thriving endeavor. Yet, these vestiges seem to whisper tales of unfulfilled potential, a story of progress stunted by a profound sense of detachment. The community, it appears, failed to forge a sense of belonging, fostering an atmosphere of alienation that ultimately led to the project's demise. To fully comprehend the project's decline, we must delve into the depths of the archives. Why did individuals feel disconnected? Was it a structural issue, a lack of shared purpose, or something else entirely? An answer could be the male-centric power structure potentially contributed to the project's downfall and it is recurrent in every archive story.[5] An extremely important open question is the following one: Were there any successful efforts to breathe new life into these relics of the past? This skewed perspective necessitates a rewriting of history, one that acknowledges the full spectrum of participation, encompassing both men and women and more than human world. To fully comprehend the project's trajectory, we must re-analyze into the archives, employing a gender-inclusive lens. Archeological evidence, oral histories, and art practices can all offer valuable insights. Family project: The case studies we have looked at started as a family project- families moving to rural with potential of turning into community. While this approach can offer a strong foundation, it also carries the potential for perpetuating gender inequality. Traditional gender roles often get transported from the family unit to the larger project, potentially limiting women's participation and decision-making. Furthermore, the traditional family often reinforces male dominance: men hold more power, while women are expected to manage domestic labor and childcare. The concept of family, particularly the traditional monogamous structure, is often intertwined with an outdated notion that has little to do with modern ideas of romantic love. This rigid model can become exclusionary, pushing those who don't conform to its narrow definition to the margins, even demonizing them. It reinforces a social construct that assigns a singular "ideal" identity to families, emphasizing exclusivity and a sense of ownership. This monogamous mindset aligns perfectly with the capitalist and patriarchal structures of modern society. It can contribute to a range of social ills, including violence, colonialism, and racism. Furthermore, the traditional gendered definition of family can cultivate possessiveness, exclusivity, and a focus on individualism, potentially hindering social cohesion. From a political perspective, Fascist and totalitarian regimes viewed the traditional peasant family as a model to be championed and controlled. This was due to the specific characteristics it embodied, seen as essential for maintaining social order and consolidating their power. The peasant family was typically defined by a strict patriarchal structure, with the father as the undisputed head and women and children subordinate to his authority. This mirrored the authoritarian hierarchy that these regimes sought to impose on society at large. Life for peasant families was arduous, demanding discipline and unwavering obedience. Regimes heavily emphasized values like hard work, sacrifice, and unquestioned respect for authority, as crucial for maintaining societal order. Additionally, peasant life was deeply connected to the land and rural values. Fascist and totalitarian regimes often romanticized the simplicity and purity of rural life, contrasting it with the perceived "corruption" of urban living. This served to further tighten their grip on society and suppress any ideas deemed subversive. Our case studies consistently reveal the same pattern: the narrative revolves around a family headed by the paterfamilias, with the wife having no say in the matter. This exclusivity and narcissistic approach has led not only to the inability to integrate their project into a community, but also to a failure to achieve independence. When discussing these families, we are not referring to the romantic ideal of shared love, but rather to a strict patriarchal structure that impacts the wives and, subsequently, the children. Kids are the first to break away from what their fathers have tried to build through imposition. Motherhood and invisible labor: Another important aspect related to the women of our case studies is motherhood. Mothers were the ones in charge of keeping the spaces clean, of cooking, of taking care of children and assisting their husbands in every tasks- even if their efforts and irreplaceable help were completely invisible in the narration. It is important to mention, how this invisibility is strictly linked to a gender based idea of motherhood. Ecofeminist theories argue that the patriarchal and capitalist system exploits the female body through forced reproduction. Women are seen as mothers and caregivers, relegated to the private sphere and deprived of their autonomy. Motherhood becomes unpaid labor that perpetuates female subordination.In the main essay on ecofeminism, Françoise D'Eaubonne advocates a "Womb strike" (1974) as a radical solution to curb patriarchal power. This is an act of radical rebellion, in which women reclaim control over their bodies and refuse to be considered as reproductive machines. The “womb strike" is not limited to the mere refusal to have children, but also implies a social and political transformation that challenges existing power structures. According to ecofeminist studies, the threats of overpopulation and resource depletion can be traced back to the power that men have acquired in cultivating the land and their participation in the reproductive act. The relationship between the domination of nature and female subordination gains relevance, in relation to the nature-body connection, where there is an overlap between the exploitation of nature's resources and sexual-procreative potential. A focal point of feminist theories is the critique of the patriarchal model that has relegated motherhood to a subordinate and subservient role to women. Motherhood thus becomes a forced sacrifice, an obligation that limits the woman's personal and professional fulfillment. The mothers in our case studies prioritized their wish to be loved and cared over any professional recognitions, but they were undervalued and ignored.[6] Cooking, cleaning, laundry, childcare, etc. were invisible labor, unpaid and unrecognized work that is often essential for the smooth running of a household or community. [1] While a wider view on case studies is certainly important, Dragana Kojičić's project in Mošorin stands out as a precious exception. It's important to note that her project is contemporary, and thus the social-political context is distinct from the others, even though they share the same national origin. [2] Silvia Federici, “Caccia alle streghe, guerra alle donne”, NERO edition, Rome, 2022 [3] Marko Pogačnik mentioned Kathi Lightstone, Milenko Matanovic’s wife, who, after an experience hitchhiking in Scotland, she got in touch with Findhorn foundation. This community thrived with incredible vegetables, thanks to the women's remarkable ability to connect with the plants. Her knowledge, brought to Šempas, perfectly laid the foundation for a unique idea: agriculture intertwined with art. [4] Marko Pogačnik referred also to Gimbutas's work on millennia of peaceful societies became a revelation, upending his worldview. Inspired by this, he and his daughter, Ajra, developed a method to perceive and understand landscapes as "landscape temples" structured according to the Triple Goddess principle ( they wrote The Daughter of Gaia: Rebirth of the Divine Feminine, Findhorn Press, 2001) Among her most important accomplishments, Gimbutas developed a fundamental glossary of the figurative motifs that serve as an interpretative key to the mythology of an otherwise undocumented era (Neolithic), but also she established, on the basis of the interpreted signs, the characterizing lines and the main themes of a religion that venerated both the universe as the living body of the Mother Goddess Creator and all living things within it as partakers of her divinity. Gimbutas also coined the term “Gilania” ( from the Greek terms gynè, "woman" and anèr, "man”) to describe a society existed in 8.000-2500 a.c in the Ancient Europe based on the equality of rights between men and women and the lack of hierarchy and authority within the community. [5] Gera Museum is an example of ruins in a literary way and it shows how things could be potentially different if the power was not centered on one person but shared with the collective. When things felt apart, nobody took care of what Gera built and nobody felt like belonging to what he created. For Family of Clear stream the story is not that different at all, especially the ending. If at the beginning the idea was to create a collective project, through the time Bozidar ends up alone probably because he didn’t manage to have an horizontal approach to the community but he always put himself and his ideas first. The Sempas didn’t work either in this sense: they weren’t able to build a relationship with villagers but at the same time couldn’t be independent. [6] According to Braila’s experience, the first wife of Bozidar, it is clear how her presence was at the same time fundamental and not recognized: she was the one who took care of three kids, woke up at 5 to cook for the 20 people part of Family of Clear stream, she was also involved, against her wish, to perform and be part of her husband’s art processes. < Mentors Educational Program How to Apply >

Mentors Mentors 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 Mentors of WCSCD program 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); < Participants Educational Program Programs >

Consider being part of the WCSCD growing community. This program is designed for people who want to engage in contemporary social issues through art. Join one of our groups to support our programs and vision, but also to gain special access to parts of the programs we present. Support could be on an annual basis or by a three-year engagement. Volunteers (no age requirement): If you would like to gain an insight into the work of WCSCD, all the while helping us with various activities, send us an email with a proposed timeframe and area of your involvement. We are happy to consider you becoming a part of our team in the short or long-term run! Artisans 30€ (up to 35 years old): For young art lovers who want to connect with the art world deeper. A gift from our publications’ catalog. Get personal with the WCSCD team and the people we work with. Invitation to join one close session during the educational program that is of interest to you. For each session, we invite a limited number of artisans, since we prefer to work in smaller groups. Exclusive invitation to a welcome dinner for WCSCD participants. Companion 500€: Invitation to join our team and educational program participants for a research trip we organize annually to another country (including meeting professionals in the field, and visiting institutions and galleries with us). Invitation to join us for artists' studio visits in Serbia. Invitation to a dinner with our mentors or invited guests and artists. A gift from our publications’ catalog. Artist production supporting circle, 1200€: You can directly support emerging artists in the production of their new work. Every year, through the educational program, we work with one artist on one of their developing new work. See some of the artists’ works we supported in the following link: sasatkacenko.com/wcscd Artist and curators education supporting circle, 1200€: Offer the opportunity to an individual to participate in the educational program. You can be anywhere in the world. We run an open call for artists and curators for our educational program. However, if you feel that any other artist or curator is in urgent need of the educational program we offer, we are open to your proposals. Revitalizing the land circle WCSCD is going through a transition while exploring its relationship to rural land. We are working with communities in the Šumadija region (Central Serbia) towards enabling the land to be used and incorporated into contemporary practice. If you need land access or are exploring similar topics, please don't hesitate to contact us.

Marija Glavas < Back national identities, common ground Marija Glavas Previous Next

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities On WCSCD educational programme Collective reflections This conversation with What Could Should Curating Do (WCSCD) education programme participants happened in June 2024, during the final part of the 2023/24 education programme. The conversation took place in the rural (the village of Gornja Gorevnica, in central Serbia), as we spent one of the last weeks of the programme together in the WCSCD pedagogical centre.The heat challenged our abilities to focus and to be present during this discussion — the conversation was recorded as temperatures reached 35 degrees celsius in the shade. Writer Toby Üpson, who has been following the programme during its transition over the year, initiated the conversation with questions. Program participants Anna Ilchenko, Asida Butba, Andrey Parshikov, mentor Luigi Coppola and intern Min Chengxiang were present and took part in this conversation. Program participant Laura Rositani wasn't with us during the last visit to the rural. Her responses were introduced to this text later, as the conversation was being transcribed. Overall the conversation tries to reflect on the programme's focus and the embodiment of knowledge. WCSCD’s educational programme was established in 2018, mostly situated in Belgrade. It is an international programme for artists and curators. Having these two positions, curatorial and artistic, in close proximity is very important for WCSCD; in many places that lack an art infrastructure, these positions constantly merge, complement and support one another. The WCSCD educational programme has been a testing ground for creating a collective learning site, a space to think about how to institute differently. The central place of the educational programme in WCSCD’s activities has been vital to the institution; the programme has helped guide us, creating a space to collectively consider many practical questions as well as to think about our future. Biljana Ciric (BC): It’s the 21st of June 2024. Toby, Asida, Andrey, Anna, Luigi, Min, and myself are present. I think it's a good moment to reflect. Toby has some questions which I found interesting and I felt we could think about these together. Toby Üpson (TU): To start off, my first question is really broad and very subjective. The premise of the education programme this year, and its leading question was, what does it mean for an arts institution to become the custodian of land? So, that guiding question automatically implies that the programme is focused around the arts institution and its organisation beyond the programme. In that sense, as participants, I was wondering what and how have you ‘gained’ from the programme — to use a word I don't like —, or at least how have you experienced this process? Asida Butba (AB): You mean in relation to how through knowing our background, what sort of meaning we put into custodianship as a practice, as a way of thinking? TÜ: I think more generally. You signed up and applied to an education programme which is very, very specific. How do you think this process has formed you, if it has formed you, and what have you learned, if anything at all? Anna Ilchenko (AI): Or unlearned. TÜ: Indeed. AI: I was curious about the idea of custodianship, carrying in a larger sense, because of how this word operates in different contexts, in relation to Australian Indigenous communities for example. And how to practise different cultural strategies in order to have a more inclusive society, that sort of thing. I was curious to see whether this situation could somehow be applicable to other contexts. I mean as an experiment, an experimental educational, not practise per se but a condition. It was interesting not just to see but also to practise it [— custodianship]. Of course, I'm oversimplifying because it was purely a kind of artificial, I would say, laboratory situation. But I was curious to see how it could work. Do I know whether it works or if it can be universal, that sort of a strategy? I wouldn't say that I have a clear understanding of how this could be, these ideas come from engaging with knowledges from indigenous communities from other parts of the world. So this is still an open question for me. AB: My motivation to apply was more related to a question of alternative ways of instituting, since I’m organising a space myself that's something that I've been curious about. What are these methods, you know, especially when starting something from scratch with no infrastructural backing, where there’s not a lot of resources to build either or you have to inherit the resources. To me, that was what I found interesting. I'm not sure that the things I learned have anything to do with custodianship of the land. TÜ: How do you think you could apply what you have experienced with the programme to your daily practice? AI: I think that my experience of the programme has been very different. I would say that it fluctuated between inspiration and thoughts you apply to your work directly, but which also have a kind of vagueness or intuitiveness where it's not clear what's going on, where it's not clear how or what the result is going to be. It is an open process. And that's a huge thing. I can go on forever about this and what I can take from this. Andrey Parshikov (AP): After documenta14 I was interested in how and what the connection is between cultural production and the production of goods or food or something like that. I had never thought about that. Second, I never thought about these groups, those who are going into the woods and making something there, who are connected to the land and so on. ‘Land’ was not in my vocabulary as a contemporary practitioner. So it was out of this curiosity that I applied. I learned a lot from the tutors about how artistic value could add something to the production of food and now I understand better all these artists from documenta14, like what their artistic practice is, where their art is and how it works. Laura Rositani (LR): I can certainly relate to Asida's response. My initial motivation for applying was driven by a desire to reconsider my approach to curating, especially in light of my recent learnings. I was and still am particularly interested in exploring more ecological and caring methods of curating. This experience has prompted me to ask many questions: how can I curate a show without artworks? One of the most valuable lessons I've learned is the importance of the process over the material object. The programme made me rethink the methodologies and phenomenologies of new spaces, developing a critical eye and embracing failure sometimes. This was a new experience for me: I've come to realise that the current ‘likes culture’ may not be conducive to learning. This experience has pushed me to think outside of the box and challenge my assumptions. The opportunity to interact with such a diverse and talented group of people from around the world has made me realise how often I limit my view to my own bubble; being with the WCSCD group was enriching. TÜ: It sounds like you all approached the programme with a level of curiosity, an interest you wanted to learn more about. Is it right to say that you've become more knowledgeable about these things? AI: I have implemented the things I learned through the programme in a recent show. Not everything worked but at least this is just something that I felt I could naturally implement both as a curatorial strategy and also as a way to challenge the idea of how to engage with Indigenous context in Russia because these have their own layers of complexity, much more twisted than could be imagined. The exhibition talks about the earth as a political, economic and spiritual agent; we worked with a group of researchers from Yakutia, because of their relationship with the land and their understanding of its purpose as a support system. TÜ: Sounds like there was a knowledge transfer at a simple level taking place. AI: Yeah, I've never done anything before like that. AB: I’ll say there has been an expansion of how I understand what I want to do and what I want to do in the near future. Some of the issues we've discussed here, regarding the land, and some of the readings, give me a sense of the possibilities of what I could do in the environment I work in. Thinking about where I work, I was asking myself what is this? I don't quite understand because I was born in Russia; there are some things I really don't grasp enough and that I have no clue why they work like this. For example, there are activist groups uniting around land-based issues and they are really strong. Young people in their early 20ies have this gut feeling that this is our land, we're not giving it to anybody and so on. I can relate to that. I also work with an indigenous population, in a place where half of the population lives in the rural, it's basically a Caucasus tribe, one living in an unrecognised state [— Abhazia], and I’m actually working with some of these people now, on future programmes for the space I organise. TÜ: How useful was it to have the programme so focused on the rural, and not just in terms of curiosity, in terms of the reality of the situation? In other words, why choose an education programme with no aircon! when you could have been in a library? AP: I didn't want to read books. I wanted to be in dialogue with others and this was a good opportunity for that, an opportunity to learn from other professionals and not from the books, it's always better that way. BC: An embodied experience? AP: Yes, yes, an embodied experience, exactly! AB: It is also all those conversations had beyond the workshops, beyond the presentations and the lectures. For me, these were the spaces for the most fruitful discussions. They were also part of that educational process, for me anyway, and that's why it's important for everybody to be together in a situation like this. Luigi Coppola (LC): After this year, do you think there is a specific category that you can confine to the rural? Is it a specific category for curators or art context to engage with? Do you think there is a specific way of working in this context? AP: Of course, you need to be brave enough to do that. I mean doing an exhibition is one thing and creating the space for rural within contemporary production is another, that’s very different from a traditional art institution. LC: I don't think there is this categorisation. I think it's more a methodology or way to engage with an issue. I don't see the distinction because I don't find a big difference in terms of how the society is built. If we say we have the institution in the city or that an urban area is more educated to the art context what does it mean? Because there are so many rurals; I ema we talk about marginal places, peripheric places, indigenous places, and we categorise everything as a rural place. What we think of as rural is the space for the production of food but it's much more than this. Urban contexts are now also producing food maybe, more than you know. I live in a place where nobody is cultivating anymore there is no attachment to the land, and the people are living exactly with the same trauma, the same mechanism in the city, maybe missing some things in the city, but there is no difference in the way they are educated, they create society, they create a relation. In every context that I've been in, I'm not able to create a category and I don't feel I fit in this idea of rural art, rural artist. I feel all this construction around contemporary art is completely fake, and I don't find this categorisation worth the discussion to be honest, so I try when it's possible to destroy this because I don't feel it's for me. There are so many things that it's more interesting for me to talk about: methodology, engagement, connecting, the way to connect, the way to create, the way to act, the way to practise. We need to talk about situated practice and every time we are in a place we need to discover a methodology for this. AP: It's not about the context. It's very raw. I mean here there is no audience. There is no nothing. There is no… LC: And it is rural? AP: Of course. LC: But it's not part of urban-rural. We can go to many places in the city that are rawer than this. We can go into favelas and we can find people who are very raw. I can show you some raw context in the city. AP: Of course. I'm sorry, but I'm working in a museum. In a museum there is an audience, there is an infrastructure, there is everything. LC: Yeah, but this is an art institution. It's not rural. It's not a question of rural and not rural. AP: But we're building institutions, right? Or alternative institutions. So that's why I'm comparing it to. TÜ: I think it might be useful to reframe a way of thinking. You're in the programme, you're researching, how useful is it to have a specific, project-based, situation like this? To have this institutional project alongside the education programme’s research and the conversations? AI: I think it's very useful. Actually, I really loved this experience here in the village. Also all the rawness that Andrey mentions. Because you're trying to do something and you see the reality of what is really happening. You ask yourself and everyone else more questions, and I think that this is an extremely useful process. The first aspect of the programme was more of a scenery, like all the workshops and so on framed our thinking. I felt that the second part, engaging with this rural context, really required closer engagement with the people who have an understanding of how this place functions, maybe knowing the language. BC: I think that it's interesting that you mentioned this because it's something that I’m thinking deeply about. The majority of the physical programme happened in Belgrade, in a very urban setting. But it's fascinating that when we talk about the programme, we talk about the rural experience. It's very sensorial being together here, living together, eating together, cooking together… AP: Taking showers together… BC: Taking showers together… This experience creates a different bond within the group. This compliments the notion of learning as everyday practice. Figuring out these dynamics interests me; so too, hearing about how our experiences together, in the rural, has left an impression on you. Before moving to the rural we did a methodological preparation. For that we thought about positioning: how do you position yourself as a practitioner, etc., etc. We focused our research with case studies on rural practices from across the Balkans, undertaking a number of field trips to understand these histories and contexts. It was very important that you understood that there were practitioners before us and, like us, that they tried to decenter artistic work. Through this historical research, we learnt where the problems with these practices were, what the struggles were. Indeed, Whilst on our research trips we could actually taste the bitterness of these practices as we encountered their ruins, deepening our thinking about what and how we could learn from these practitioners. So yes, for me it's really interesting to hear how powerful our stay in this rural context was for you, I mean for me as well. AP: We keep forgetting about the part of the programme dedicated to the margins, to the people who went out of the system. This was very important for me as well. When I was living in Moscow I was researching different types of secs, all the case studies and communes we visited resonated with this research, especially in relation to spirituality. LR: To me the situation we experienced in the rural was not that new but still it was challenging. I am not used to sharing the same space with several people for ten days but I believe this brought me to new awareness of myself as a person and as curator. It made me think about the importance of time and slowness: it takes time to get in touch with a community, to take care of it and to come up with something valuable created together. TÜ: Do you think you've gone through a process of unlearning? AI: I wouldn't say ‘what have you unlearned’ is the best question. On a very practical level, I had this knowledge in me already. It's been there since I was a child, I would wash the dishes the same way as you, but I have forgotten all this knowledge after living most of my life in cities. So here the unlearning was more of a case of going backwards, mentally, and unpacking some of the things already embedded within me but which lie latent and unused, like riding a bicycle essentially. TÜ: When I say unlearning I don't just mean bookish knowledge, I mean body-knowledge too. AB: Yes and learning how your body's being socialised. AI: I felt this when we were working with Petra [Pavleka], physically thinking about biodiversity and how to implement this; you took a shovel and your body already knew what to do because you've done it so many times, so this is what I’m saying, it's like riding a bicycle. Growing up I was much more experienced living in the countryside — even though it's a very complex relationship for me because I grew up in the 90s — we had to know how to grow vegetables so we could have food on the table. Being a child you don’t want to go through with this labour, you want to be a kid not planting potatoes. So the rural can be a dark place in some way and that is why I hesitate to go back to something. There were moments of joy, of course, and moments of learning; my grandmother was so knowledgeable about countryside life and I would learn a lot from her. So, for me, an inter-generational relationship and knowledge also resurfaced here. And this is another thing that I asked Luigi when we were having discussion in the autumn; coming from a post-socialist context, for me, it's going back to the countryside and means going back to its models of producing food. I can remember after school or during the summer we would cultivate potatoes for free. Obviously, it was not ‘common wealth for god's sake’ , this was essentially exploitation. For me, this experience surfaces all those complexities. It makes me question the means of labour, its distribution across a labour force as well as all the power dynamics in place or that were in place. TU: I'm very interested in bodily knowledge. You've all grown up, gone down a specific route, normally followed an institutional pathway or a particular curatorial mode of thinking, becoming socialised to that way of working. I am interested to know if you have started thinking about and unthinking how you've been socialised. AB: I mean I can totally relate to Anna regarding the activation of forgotten parts of myself, like washing the dishes or taking a shower or enjoying the view from the window of the toilet. I know these things instinctively, some are active in my present life and others need to be reactivated. I was never really socialised in a... I mean, I do not come from an institution. BC: It's more grass roots. AB: Yeah, I'm not cultivated. I'm just grass root. Just grass. TÜ: Sorry to jump in and to directly ask about your artist space, is the logic you follow to organise this the same logic as the ‘big boy’ institutions? ie, applying for the same pots of funding. I would like to think about this experience in relation to alternative institutional models. AB: Despite my curiosity in alternative methodologies, to organise my space I currently apply to ‘normal’ funding streams. For me, this is the only thing that works honestly. I haven't figured out any other strategy and I don't think that looking at this programme I can see any other strategies that are immediately available to provide me with sustainability. To pursue an alternative system, in my context, I feel I would need to quit whatever I’m doing with my art space and spend two years or more researching alternative strategies. And this is not what I want to do. Our resources in Abhazia are scarce and I’m trying to learn how to do what I do better with these limitations. BC: Can I ask where you think the curatorial is here? AP: While you are creating you are cultivating something or are taking care of something probably. Trying to introduce alternative means of production into cultural institutions that have very traditional and conservative ways of working it's already something curatorial, even thinking about this and thinking about how to do this is curatorial. AB: I think there should be a certain sensitivity to the people we meet in rural areas. For me the curatorial would be to engage more, to try to enter from different angles, to experiment with different means of engagement and to see how people respond. AI: For me it's also about people first, finding people to have conversations with. But also, there is a necessity to care about this place. BC: I have a last question. If the field of curatorial is constituted by the questions we can ask, What is the one question that you would ask after experiencing all the hardship? LC: I'm not sure that the curatorial is constituted by the questions you ask. It's about the care that you put into things, be this an economic thought or the ecology of people. A question isn’t the starting point but a practice. AI: For me, the question, as a cultural practitioner, is about the idea of holistic unity. AB: Maybe my question would be how to create a space that could be productive for listening or how to create a space where everyone present could have a sense of the other or the unknown. LR: More than a question, mine is a thought and again it’s about time and what Luigi called the ecology of people. Working on margins and working on communities requires a lot of time spent on site and with people. < Mentors Educational Program How to Apply >

Mentors Alumni 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 Mentors of WCSCD program 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); < Participants Educational Program Programs >

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities To be enjoyed endlessly – a zine final project by WCSCD2019 curators Seda Yıldız and Ewa Borysiewicz NOVEMBER 14, 2019

Jasphy Zheng < Back Pigeon post Kyōzō Jasphy Zheng When looking for new ways of corresponding and communicating besides those we already get tired of, if pigeon post is no longer a choice, what about a mobile Kyōzō? Previous Next

Contributors Zian Chen Dunja Karanović Jovan Mladenović Teodora Jeremić Beatrice Rubio-Gabriel Veronika Dashkova Ash Moniz Larys Frogier Yabebal Fantaye Brett Neilson Robert Bobnič Kaja Kraner Tjaša Pogačar Aigerim Kapar Jasphy Zheng Chen Liang Jelica Jovanović Bota Sharipova Nataliya Chemayeva WaterCafè Kulshat Medeuova Dragan Stojmenović Su Wei Anvar Musrepov Tjaša Pureber Solveig Suess Asia Bazdyrieva Hu Yun Alexey Ulko Sinkneh Eshetu Zeleke Aziza Abdul Fetah Ocean & Wavz Shasta Stevic Bermet Borubaeva Katarina Kostandinović Sarah Bushra Siniša Ilić Robel Temesgen Zdenka Badovinac Nikita Yingqian Cai Gulnara Kasmalieva and Muratbek Djumaliev Mifta Zeleke Biljana Ciric < Projects Curatorial Inquiries Menu >

Educational Program  Alumni 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 WHAT COULD/SHOULD CURATING DO?—WCSCD was initiated in 2018 in Belgrade as an educational platform focused around notions of the curatorial and is a registered civic association. WCSCD’s education program has been run on an annual basis every year since 2018. Till 2022 it was organized as a three-month program for practitioners situated in Belgrade. From 2023 program is organized as biennial working with program participants over longer period of time. Our participants were young practitioners from different parts of the world including the Balkans, EU, Asia, Central Asia, Russia and Latin America making it a unique program in Europe. WCSCD educational program has been learning through recent years to think what kind of citation could actively produce.Through carefully created mentorship program we are committed to think and practice what kind of knowledge we consider worth and how it gets prioritized creating new citations from the margins. [1] [1] Sara Ahmed, “White Men,” Feminist Killjoys Blog, November 4 2014, www.feministkilljoys.com/2014/11/04/white-men < Participants Educational Program Programs >