CAC Brétigny

In her book Giving an account of oneself, Judith Butler challenges the idea that to be capable of acting responsibly, we must be self-sufficient and know ourselves fully. Instead, she argues that accepting we cannot really know ourselves or others is an ethical process. We must stop insisting that everyone be completely coherent all of the time.[1] It is precisely because we are opaque and relational beings that we are capable of understanding our human limits and, as a result, of being tolerant. Individuals exist socially because they have been shaped by norms, language, and others:

“To be undone by another is a primary necessity, an anguish, to be sure, but also a chance—to be addressed, claimed, bound to what is not me, but also to be moved, to be prompted to act, to address myself elsewhere, and so to vacate the self-sufficient “I” as a kind of possession.”[2]

Butler articulates a paradox: others can recognise us as being a member of their community, even if they do not know what we are or what they themselves are. This opacity is what we have in common.

Elisabeth Ellsworth extends this idea of opacity to the aesthetic experience. She writes that if the viewer is never exactly who they believe themselves to be, the viewer is never exactly who the artist and the artwork think they are either. Furthermore, the artwork itself is never exactly what its creator thinks it is.[3] These constant misalignments can be used in what I call a pedagogy of missed address. In cultural mediation, the participants are not only being addressed by the mediator, but also by the artwork, the context and other participants.[4] For Ellsworth, who theorises as a professor in higher education, we learn from an entire structure of address: a collection of undefined elements that speak to or address students and trigger or fail to trigger a response in them.[5] The trajectories of all these elements are intrinsically vague and changeable. These missed addresses, which fail to reach their recipients in the intended way, are open moments of learning and self-reinvention.

Ellsworth describes the boredom that arises from an encounter structured by fixed expectations. The belief that we already know who someone is, and what they might say, suggests we think they have nothing to offer us.[6] Ellsworth explains that addressing someone as a woman can be reductive. However, she notes that this is not automatically the case. If the category of woman is freed from a “fixed referent”, the individuals identified as women are not locked into fixed expectations.[7] In other words, addressing someone as a woman when it is understood that we do not know exactly what a woman is, is not reductive.

However, it is difficult to determine whether or not a category is understood in a rigid way as meaning is influenced by a whole structure of different factors: the context, the words and the body language of the person speaking, the attitudes of other people present, etc. Invoking the category “woman” afford space to feminine perspectives of works, rich in a diversity of experiences ordinarily effaced from public discourse. Conversely, it may imply that someone identified as a woman should necessarily draw on themes perceived as feminine in their interpretation of artworks. In order to understand how contemporary art spaces can develop modes of address that are as non-prescriptive as possible, without ignoring the idiosyncrasies of the individuals visiting, I will examine three examples of address that took place within the context of a French Fonds Régionaux d’Art Contemporain (FRAC).[8]

The first example is a post on a FRAC social media account from 2020 that, while appearing to be neutral, is actually addressed towards people with certain life experiences. This positioning could make others feel excluded. The post features a photo of a work of art: a sleeping bag covered in glitter. Explaining that the artist is a mountaineer, the caption says the work conjures up ideas of extraordinary adventures, climbing and perilous escapades. Yet, in my view, it is not hiking and leisure activities that spring to mind first and foremost when thinking of the sleeping bag today, but rather extreme poverty, homelessness and displaced populations. In its failure to take these other possible interpretations into account, the FRAC appears insensitive, ignorant or disconnected from important societal issues.

For a less exclusive presentation of the work, the description could have been isolated from the artist’s perspective. Space could also have been afforded to other possible interpretations of the object within a broader context. Here, the FRAC seems to conceive of meaning as being expressed in the artwork, without taking context into account. It is a mode of address that assumes the public will interpret the piece in only a small number of ways and fails to recognise the subjectivity of interpretation. For Ellsworth, there is a difference between understanding and interpretation.[9] This social media post puts forward an understanding of the work as opposed to presenting a possible way of interpreting it. It would be possible for someone to respond to this post online in order to flag that they saw the image differently. However, this would require a kind of effort from the excluded person. Ellsworth writes that “the onus of difference” falls on the one who has to say: “I’m different from who you thought I was.”[10] The social media post is presented as if it contains no mode of address, as if it is a neutral source of information. In contrast, Ellsworth calls for “modes of address that multiply and set in motion the positions from which they can be ‘met’ and responded to.”[11]

The second example I will analyse dates back to 2016. While we were presenting an artwork from the 49 Nord 6 Est—Frac Lorraine collection in a primary school, my colleague Morgane Britscher asked the class what a photo of a 13th-century painted ceiling depicting human and animal figures made them think of. A child replied loud and clear: “Elvis Presley.” It made me laugh, but no one else in the room was laughing. It is difficult to predict what cultural references an image will conjure up for different participants. Elvis Presley is not, in my opinion, a reference you would expect a 7-year-old boy living in rural eastern France to shout out.  The example shows how difficult it is to adapt an educational situation to a specific group. Within the space of a few seconds, a cultural mediator must identify the reference, gage whether it is shared by many people (if so, it must be discussed, even if it seems absurd to the mediator), decide whether the reference is relevant to the discussion, and acknowledge it so that the person knows they have been heard.

What further complicates the situation is that cultural mediation often involves a large number of participants. If it had been a one-to-one conversation, it would have been easier to take the time to ask the boy what he meant. The tone of his voice suggested the image had touched him and this as a specific kind of person: an Elvis Presley connoisseur. Exploring this connection further risked alienating the other children in the class from a perspective they did not share. As a result, my colleague decided to acknowledge the child’s contribution with a nod of the head and a facial expression to show interest, without asking any additional questions.

This anecdote demonstrates how it is impossible to list all the modes of address contained within a single moment: everything that happened that morning and everything that was said by the teacher before we arrived, for example, potentially influenced the way in which the artwork was perceived by the school children. My own reaction to the pupil’s comment would have been a mode of address if I had been the one doing the presentation and not out of sight at the back of the room. Laughing in front of a serious student could have altered the address. If he had heard the laughter, the child may have taken the mediator’s invitation to freely interpret an image to actually contain an implicit condition: “What do you see here? Say anything, except that which is related to Elvis Presley.” A seemingly open invitation from a mediator often implies specific, unconscious expectations.

The conversational form appears limited here when it comes to not assigning rigid positions to the people with whom we are speaking. Most of the time, discussions about artworks are orientated. Certain answers (“unlike Elvis Presley”) are expected and rewarded or built on by the mediator. This kind of dialogue aims to reinforce the power of an authority figure to lead others on the path that they have chosen. For Ellsworth, this type of dialogue, which she calls “communicative dialogue”, works in particular by establishing continuity between the different ideas put forward within a conversation, casting aside those that do not fall within a linear narrative.[12] For her, the main problem with this kind of exchange is that it is not presented as being directive, but as if it were a neutral space in which everyone is equally free to express themselves.[13]

Even if the mediator is not trying to establish a specific interpretation of an artwork, for example, the goal is still to come to a common understanding. However, this search for common understanding, particularly in the short time frame of an exhibition visit, can lead to the elimination of certain marginalised perspectives.[14] The only option then is to question dialogue.[15] As previously mentioned with the “the onus of difference”, which consists of telling someone they have wrongly presumed you will interpret something in a certain way, this questioning is an emotional and political labour. Children are not typically allowed to question the rules of interaction in this way. Resisting dialogue is considered antidemocratic. Ellsworth writes that communicative dialogue frames itself as being “driven not by interests, but by the highest universal human aspirations and values”.[16] Understanding each other and reaching an agreement are difficult goals to criticise because they form part of a wider belief in “classroom democracy”.[17] This goes hand in hand with an expectation of autonomy: the children are supposed to come to their own conclusions, independently from their classmates.[18] Their thoughts should not be purely contextual and they are only allowed to change their mind within a rational framework. This expectation runs counter to the ethical stance advocated by Butler, which involves perceiving others as relational beings, and therefore beings that are susceptible to influence and potentially changeable.

Ellsworth puts forward another type of dialogue, one which opens up positions rather than fixing them. She evokes, for example, the use of silence or the act of repeating what has been said not in an affirmative way but like an echo sending back “a question out of something that appears to be an answer”.[19] Questioning forms of dialogue, and revealing the implicit modes of address they contain, opens up new possibilities. This is particularly true within contemporary art, where so many modes of address exist, within a wider sensory field, which are only imperfectly translated within traditional forms of spoken language.

The third example that I will analyse demonstrates an educational format that allows participants to occupy the freest positions possible and evade previsions made by the cultural mediator. The example took place in a workshop organised as part of the exhibition Vous me rappelez quelqu’un [You Remind Me of Someone] at 49 Nord 6 Est—Frac Lorraine.[20] After visiting the exhibition, the children were split into two teams. Each team drew a photo of one of the exhibition artworks at random. The groups were then given an envelope containing nearly a hundred images and had to work together to select just ten that they thought would help the other team guess which artwork they had been assigned. The images fell into one of three categories: images of objects, images of other works by artists featured in the exhibition and images from art history and visual culture. Later, Canelle Braun, another mediator at the FRAC, added emojis to convey moods and emotions.[21]

The aim was to allow the children to communicate without words within the context of an exhibition centred on the notion of visual resemblance. What we had not expected, however, was that the children would use the images in a way that the adults could not understand. Often, I could not see the connection between the images selected and the corresponding artwork. The children on the other team, however, could. Once, a teacher said to me: “At least they understand each other.”

Each time an artwork was guessed, I asked the children to explain why they had chosen those particular images. I then explained why I had chosen to include the image in question in the envelope. The aim of the discussion was to highlight our different ways of interpreting images, notably to demonstrate that the people usually in charge of defining meaning (cultural mediators, teachers) do not control everything. Overall, the discussions highlighted the fact that many different combinations were possible: sometimes the teams were assigned the same artwork, but they always chose different images to represent it. In this regard, if some of the children felt marginalised in their interpretations, they might reason that in another situation, with other participants, that might not have been the case. One problem I have yet to find a solution for, however, is that because I cannot understand the children, I cannot ensure that power dynamics are not leading certain children to take up space at the expense of others. They could have included content that belittled or intimidated others without me realising.

The workshop adopted the notion of partial reading. The children did not need to understand the artworks, but rather use them.[22] They experienced meaning as something that could be practised rather than as an accumulation and transmission of knowledge. They were users of the images with a specific purpose in mind rather than connoisseurs.[23] Ellsworth writes: “The meanings we make […] are always made for something.”[24] Rather than asking the children to focus on their personal interpretation of the artworks, the workshop stressed that meaning is the product of a contextual relationship in which different interlocutors have a role to play.

In their everyday work, cultural mediators face an ethical dilemma: either they do not think enough about the audience’s potential perspective and therefore impose a perspective that they mistakenly consider to be neutral, or they make reductive assumptions. When a mediator incorrectly assumes that someone has the same cultural references as them, that person can feel excluded. On the other hand, assuming the contrary might also make someone feel demeaned. Even if an assumption falls close to the truth, it could be unpleasant to feel labelled. Approaching the field of meaning around an artwork as being structured by a range of plural addresses allows us to decentre the address and disrupt the authority of the person or institution issuing it. From a certain point of view, all addresses miss their goal, since they are used in diverse ways by many different people. However, there are those who are convinced they are hitting the mark, those who are impervious to interpretations that fall outside of their way of thinking, and those who, in an ethical way, think of themselves in this uncertain expectation of finding an echo, a response, a reaction. It is possible to create open modes of address that can be used in surprising and unexpected ways, as much by the people initiating as those receiving the address. It’s also about never settling on a definitive response or categorising people according to their interpretations. As Butler puts it, the ethical stance consists in asking the other person again and again who they are, without ever expecting an irrevocable answer.[25]

Mikaela Assolent
Translated by Annie-Rose Harrison-Dunn.

Publication made on the occasion of “Bascules”, off-site season 2024—2025.

 

Notes

[1] Butler, Judith. 2005. Giving an Account of Oneself. New York: Fordham University Press. p. 42.

[2] Butler, op. cit., p. 136.

[3] Elizabeth Ellsworth, Teaching Positions: Difference, Pedagogy, and the Power of Address,New York; London: Teachers College Press, 1997, p. 26.

[4] By “cultural mediation,” I mean all activities carried out by cultural mediators with the general public within a contemporary art organisation. These generally include exhibition tours and art workshops. In the English-speaking countries, this role is variously called “public outreach officer”, “art educator”, “gallery or museum educator” and “play and learn facilitator” and learning programmes are sometimes categorised into artist-led education sessions and teacher-led visits. In this text, for clarity, we have simply translated the French field of “médiation culturelle” and profession of “médiateur·ice culturel·le” as “cultural mediation” and “cultural mediator”, respectively.

[5] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 63.

[6] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 170.

[7] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 171.

[8] A FRAC is a public regional contemporary art collection. Created in 1982, there are currently over 20 FRACs across France and its overseas territories. Their mission is to acquire artworks, display them to wide-ranging audiences and devise new ways of raising awareness of contemporary art.

[9] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 66.

[10] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 84.

[11] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 9.

[12] Ellsworth, op.cit., pp. 86 ; 92.

[13] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 109.

[14] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 107.

[15] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 103.

[16] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 103. We can assume this questioning of dialogue in education is a response to critical pedagogies, even if she doesn’t reference them directly. This criticism is explicit in Ellsworth’s article ‘Why Doesn’t This Feel Empowering? Working through the Repressive Myths of Critical Pedagogy’, Education Feminism: Classic and Contemporary Readings, 59.3 (2013), 187–214.

[17] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 111.

[18] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 83.

[19] Ellsworth, op.cit., pp. 131 ; 133.

[20] The exhibition, curated by Fanny Gonella, ran from 23^rd February to 17^th June 2018.

[21] Paulo Freire, whose pedagogical theory is famously based on dialogue, also advocates for the use of scenes in the form of images that the participants are asked to “decipher”. These images help the participants to express themselves more freely and avoids participants freezing up, which could happen if the educator were to ask them directly with words for their opinion on a subject. Cf. Freire, Paulo. 2018. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Translated by Donaldo P Macedo. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, p. 91.

[22] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 108.

[23] Mary Louise Pratt believes that students use knowledge in ways that transform and evolve in contact with others, making them more responsible for the knowledge they use and create.  It is also a way to ensure that knowledge created in the classroom is not simply a copy of the teacher’s thinking. Cf. Mary Louise Pratt, ‘Arts of the Contact Zone’, Profession, 1991, 33–40.

[24] Ellsworth, op.cit., p. 135.

[25] Butler, op.cit., p. 43.