Burning Questions: Curator Jessica Morgan on “Burning Down The House”

“Burning Down the House”, the 10th bi-annual Gwangju Biennale art exhibition, is being curated by Jessica Morgan, the Daskalopoulos Curator of International Art at the Tate Modern in London. The ambitious theme aims to capture and expand the idea that increasingly rapid cycles of destruction and reconstruction have propelled myriad changes in the human experience. To quote the Biennale staff: “The theme highlights the capacity of art to critique the establishment through an exploration that includes visual, sound, movement and dramatic performance…This dual meaning of pleasure and engagement serves as the defining spirit of the 10th Gwangju Biennale.”

Jessica Morgan took time out of her hectic schedule to answer a few questions.

GN: Since the death of so many in Gwangju in 1980 eventually led to democracy in 1987 in South Korea, how can a visit to “Burning Down the House” inspire viewers to create positive human rights outcomes in their home countries?

JM: Firstly, I think we should not confuse the political events of 1980 with an exhibition. That said, there are many works in the Biennale that look to the historical past not to archive or document, but rather to examine the current significance of these moments for the present day. One example would be the performance, film and sculptural work of Minouk Lim. Lim has been bringing attention to the largely overlooked massacres of suspected communists that took place in the late 1940s and early 1950s, the consequences of which are still felt today. This act of retrieval, but also re-examination for its significance now, is an important example of the often subtle ways in which artists can affect difference.

GN: The MBC Television Network building in Gwangju burned during the uprising because that media outlet did not cover the massacre at all. How does art replace what other media should be doing in terms of being a government watchdog?

JM: Art is able to articulate something that cannot be expressed in any other form and this ‘something’ can be political, but also lyrical and ambiguous. It should not be tasked with acting as a regulator. Good, meaningful art is trying to articulate something that is at the same time topical and abstract, that is taking a particular historical instance and developing from it a more general maxim or thought process, which might find a more universal application. This is also why art can bridge time and speak to us independent from being familiar with a historical instance.

GN: Which commissioned pieces are likely to be the furthest astray from any given artist’s normal output?

JM: In fact, I think the aim was to invite artists to do what they do best, so I am not entirely sure many of them are moving far from their known terrain. Making new work for an unfamiliar environment – and we have more than 35 new commissions – always involves challenges and surprises that demand new approaches and solutions.

GN: What was the biggest challenge in the balancing act of allowing artistic freedom and putting together a show that is unified?

JM: The relatively short time available in which to organise the exhibition. For Gwangju, I am curating an enormous exhibition (around five times the size of an exhibition at Tate Modern) in around half the time. Decisions have to be made at a moment that is sometimes premature in regard to the development of an idea or theme.

GN: Perhaps El Ultimo Grito’s “smoky interiors” can act as a unifying piece. Are there any other large-scale works with the ability to pull diverse artists together?

JM: Certainly the wallpaper is an important device to draw together the spaces of the Biennale. However, the difference between the five Biennale Halls is also important and each is intended to have a different tone or atmosphere. Too much of the same would be potentially tiresome for such a large space.

GN: Since the grave nature of the subjects in the first gallery is sure to shock Asian sensibilities, are there any moments of emotional relief, or will the Gwangju Biennale be a full-frontal attack this time around?

JM: Gallery 1, though addressing darker aspects of recent history, is also the site of some materially complex and incredibly striking works, and the intention is not to shock but rather to encourage thoughtful contemplation. Other galleries take a very different approach, however, and Gallery 4 for example has an atmosphere that more closely aligns with the pop-sentiment of the title of the exhibition, which is taken from the band Talking Heads.

GN: What is the importance of the performance art pieces, especially Lim Minouk’s, which uses actual survivors of the Uprising?

JM: Movement and dance, performance and interaction are quite vital to the Biennale in part to break the rhythm of viewing and bring the audience into a clear relationship to the here and now. Works will act as ‘greetings’ to new spaces but also as precise performances that will take place both inside the Biennale Halls and in the customized spaces adjacent to it. The performance aspect of Lim’s work is just one element, albeit a very important one that will be documented and become part of the installation of her work that will remain in the Biennale Halls.

GN: Will there be performances that are repeated daily, or will attendees need a brochure and a phone calendar to make sure to catch all the performances?

JM: Many performance works will take place every day but others will be scheduled for daily or weekly occurrences. The majority of our “performers” are in fact Gwangju citizens, and we imagine that once the exhibition opens there will be more than 400 people involved in realising the different works.

GN: Why should a working-class citizen of Gwangju come to see “Burning Down the House”, the 10th Gwangju Biennale?

JM: Hopefully this exhibition will touch on questions of labor and material production, but also the less tangible qualities I was identifying at the outset that we look to art to evoke. I think exhibitions should also be entertaining – and this does not imply that they are necessarily sensational or superficial.

Morgan’s connections and strong eye for the best in contemporary art have yielded 105 artists. Some of the most renowned are Jeremy Deller; Liu Xiaodong, who visited Gwangju the summer before the Biennale to paint the new generation born after the 1980 massacre; Urs Fischer, who is making a new large-scale installation featuring his quintessential hyper-realistic wallpaper; and Jane Alexander, who has created a new large-scale installation to express her concerns about state control and individual freedoms.

The manner in which material is changed or destroyed by flames, manifested as residue of vivid interventions or the remnants of celebrations, is evident in the work of Eduardo Basulado, Huma Mulji, Cornelia Parker, and Mrinalini Mukherjee.