Radical Tenderness

Juxtaposition of ephemeral life and virtuous ideas. Art and commerce. Amusing, isn’t it? What starts radically ends up just tender. Not necessarily what the exhibition’s name refers to, though. An exhibition that puts the stamp of conformity on what was once radical. Can an artist remain radical anyway? Without being suicidal—starving to death, poisoning themselves, or causing themselves serious harm? Isn’t it either success—followed by wearing a Greek-theatre mask of a radical—or a failure, which means getting stuck neck-deep in the soul-draining gig economy, or settling for a boring, dull 9-to-5 job? Let me take you to one of the most prestigious galleries in the Czech Republic, to meet Iván Argote, a Paris-based Colombian artist. Lucky one—of the successful kin.

Argote has been represented by several renowned galleries (the art-for-sale kind) basically since he relocated to Paris in 2009. He’s a recipient of the Audi Talent Award—I guess there’s no need to introduce the sponsor here. One of his statues, Strengthlessness, was recently auctioned at Sotheby’s Paris for €110,500. So much for his tenderness. Let’s delve into Argote’s radicalism for now, as it is exhibited in Rudolfinum here in Prague.

In the opening movie, Argote gets on a metro in Paris and starts licking and kissing the pole people usually hold on to. Tenderly, indeed, and sensually. Nobody seems to care—but honestly, would you even react if you spotted a weirdo doing that? My best guess would be: A junkie high as the moon, a schizo going off the deep end; better keep your distance!

However, it should demonstrate Argote’s radical approach to public space, which, in his eyes, should be redefined and refined. Partly by getting rid of all imperialist, colonialist, or post-colonialist landmarks and references. Statues in the first place. You can tell it's been on his mind for a while, and not just because of the massive feet in the second room—I loved the contrast with the prestigious and rather rigid institution the exhibition takes place in.

Covering statues with colorful ponchos, on the other hand, seems quite tender and playful. The truth is most of us have become completely ignorant of statues in our surroundings, particularly if we grew up in the vicinity. We only notice statues when traveling, and even then, we don’t really care about whom they depict and what their symbolism is. Highlighting the good old statues is a way to wake people up, make them notice, and possibly discuss the statues and their meaning a century or two after they were erected, as Argote, born in a former Spanish colony, often targets statues of colonial-era figures.

Levitate, a three-screen installation in the next room, suggests that Argote’s a true radical. It shows him orchestrating a theft of three monuments in European capitals – Columbus’ statue in Madrid, Gallieni’s statue in Paris, and the Flaminio Obelisk in Rome. I’m sure there are people who’d actually do it – the Czech art scene has such bold rebels who, for instance, stole the Czech Presidential flag from the Prague Castle and replaced it with oversized red shorts to mock the then-President and show their disapproval of his pro-Russian stance, and then pretended to destroy it. The president fired back, burning the red shorts.

Anyway, Argote’s video installation is just a skillful docu-fiction; nothing hard to produce with contemporary technologies, in fact. The monuments were safe and sound. The movie simply voices concerns already resonating within society. Pretty tender – hardly more radical than an opinion column in a major newspaper. In fact, a column would nicely fit among obelisks and statues, wouldn’t it?

The next room showcases Argote’s suggestions for new-era public places. A park with several installations that envision monument-free public spaces, which still reflect that monuments were found to be obsolete, and then taken away for good. The contrast with the gallery was once again the most amusing part for me.

Argote’s activist past is reflected in his installations with children – he held “children’s protests,” mainly in Paris, letting kids express their demands or voice their dissent.

La Plaza del Chafleo, a movie in the final room, returns to the roots, yet again using children for artistic expression of the artist. Argote coined a brand new Spanish verb, chaflear, and used it to name a fictional square, which now needs to gain form and shape. The plaza, though, is rather fluid, formed by whatever meaning the new verb takes on in the moment, only to be reshaped a moment later. Quite tender – though not radical, in my view.

If you ask for the highlight of the exhibition, it was waiting for me outside. The well-endowed Sphinx guarding the entrance received this wreath while I was roaming the exhibition. Tender? For sure! Radical? Reasonably, considering there are security staff everywhere, and someone actually had to climb up that statue.

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