Framing Documenta: local politics of high art in Kassel, Germany

photos by Jeffrey Andreoni

In Giovanni Boccaccio's The Decameron, setting is everything. A few youthful elites hide in a villa just outside a plague-stricken Florence in order to share enticing stories with one another while they elude the Black Death. Each unfolding tale holds the reader's attention due to its literary quality, but also because of its contextual significance; being juxtaposed, as it were, against the surprisingly calm demeanor of the youths gathered together to avoid the unknown and deathly entity prowling the streets of their city.

In Kassel, many local artists feel that a similar entity roams their streets once every five years. Documenta started out as a local attraction meant to enlighten the guests of the larger Bundesgartenschau (Federal Horticultural Show) that took place in Kassel that year; though it would soon dwarf its host in popularity once artists such as Rothko, Picasso, and Kandinsky began to exhibit work there. After gaining international notoriety (and branding), Documenta has become like a foreign entity to the artists of Kassel who, just this year, have initiated a parallel exhibition geared towards displaying local art and culture in an attempt to get back to Documenta's humble origins.

The ancient Greeks believed that before there was anything in the universe, there was chaos. From chaos emerged all that we see. Documenta emerged from the rubble of the Second World War, and its aim was to reintroduce culture to Germany after decades of suppression. Katja, a local performance artist who helped organize a demonstration on Documenta's opening day, claims that chaos is all that Documenta now brings to the city. Signs were held high outside the press conference proclaiming "the death of Kassel" while makeuped mourners gathered to lament.

There is much more than local politics to Documenta though, as one would surely notice while perusing the numerous exhibition halls, galleries, and even a city bus that contains a mobile art installation. In order to really appreciate the magnificence of Documenta, one must also consider the "frame" in which this immense work is contained, and the wall upon which it hangs.

A plaque standing near one of the exhibition hall entrances states that one of Documenta's goals is "to facilitate outside communication between people." While navigating the large Pavilion, a space especially constructed for Documenta, one could not help but to feel lost in a sea of art hoping for salvation from the quagmire of stimulation. The Pavilion's narrative seemed to scream – the world is a messy bowl of soup where you throw in geographically balanced artworks (representing all five continents) of internationally renowned contemporary artists into a centrifuge, turn it on and pray whatever results creates a progressive discourse instead of a bomb. Luckily, art is not deadly, but having a near-art-death experience does slam one awake and demands the viewer to ask themselves how effective Documenta is in advancing the discourse on the world's present problems or is it simply reflecting them?

Everyone and everything is freed from context in Documenta, so if it doesn't make you ask questions, perhaps you need to find a context for yourself.