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Convenor’s Introduction

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Contacting BAN

Contacting BAN

The texts assembled in this issue reflect discussions involving the British Art Network team over the last months, undertaken with members, bursary holders, within our Steering Group – whose current members are introduced below – and with others beyond the Network...

Sometimes informal, sometimes organised as consultations, many of these discussions have been prompted by our commitment to become more representative and equitable as an organisation. These conversations often ended up going in unanticipated directions. Talking about race and representation led to debate about what constitutes the curatorial; addressing LGBTIQ+ inclusion ended up with a discussion about digital culture; thinking together about identity led to a reflection on the hazards of social media; observations about cultural criticism provided insights into the economics of publishing and the censorious power of commercial galleries.

Reporting here on the activity to date of the new research group on British Working Class Art, Beth Hughes registers how immediate and necessary the consideration of race and disability was in connection with social class, all topics which became the focus of their first session. Hassan Vawda and Ashokkumar Mistry offer perspectives on British art across history, asking provocatively how and why the lived experience of religious commitment and of disability, respectively, have been so often ignored. In a joint interview, Deborah Cherry and Alexandra Kokoli reflect on the multiple intersections of gender, ethnicity and class in the work of Tracey Emin, offering thoughts about the work of cultural analysis and the legitimacy and limitations of the category of British art. All these various contributors are addressing things which have been overlooked, overshadowed, underplayed or actively rejected, and the litany of topics touched on here – class, religious diversity, disability and ethnicity – might inflame anyone intent on claiming ‘anti-woke’ credentials. But what these pieces make clear, individually and collectively, is that these topics are far from ‘marginal’. They are not being imported into or imposed upon mainstream/legitimate/ established British art studies. Instead, they take us to the heart of the matter. Thinking about neurodivergence and disability among artists over history raises a vital question: if such differences are such a prevalent feature of creativity – as emerging work from the RCA cited by Ashokkumar suggests – then do we need

to rethink, even turn upside-down, what is considered ‘normal’ in the art world? Faith commitments might be generally excluded from museum experience and from established ways of talking about art, but arguably structure both in fundamental ways. If working class people face demonstrable struggles to find a place in the art world, is it also the case that the history of British art is peppered with narratives of artists overcoming disadvantage and achieving creative glory – from Turner, our cover artist, the Cockney son of a Covent Garden barber, through to Tracey Emin, whose personal experience, as Deborah and Alexandra note, has been lingered over relentlessly and sometimes sensationally. It is perhaps harder to argue that the idea of the working class or excluded artist is so marginal; rather, the opposite appears to be the case.

All these contributions are evidently intended as pieces of criticism, although what that means in the context of the British Art Network is open to debate. In a meeting (not related to BAN) I attended recently, the chair observed at one point that two quite different ideas of being ‘critical’ were in play as the discussion unfolded – one centred on the issue of reputational risk, where criticism was taken to mean attack; the other deriving from art-school practice, and the ‘crit’ in particular, and meaning something more open-ended, non-judgmental and exploratory. In fact, these two positions were set out by individuals who are part of the same, high-profile, art institution, so this certainly wasn’t a simple matter of being inside/outside the establishment. In their joint interview, Deborah and Alexandra comment that being ‘critical’ means a ‘combination of being both indepth and independent’, and entails ‘investigative engagement’ which necessarily involves a degree of distance and reflection. With such definitions in play, the question of independence, or critical autonomy, is clearly a live one for BAN. The Network itself enjoys institutional support, from the Paul Mellon Centre and Tate, and has received funding from Arts Council England. Many of our members are currently in, or have held, positions in institutions, or are otherwise dependent upon them. Yet I’ve repeatedly heard from members how the Network’s value is that it allows time and space away from work pressures and institutional settings to think and exchange thoughts. An assertion from Sara Ahmed may be pertinent here: ‘We need space that is not designated as institutional space to be able to talk about the problems with and in institutions’. Ahmed was interrogating the institutionalisation of ‘diversity and inclusion’, but the point surely has even wider application?

There is a further, foundational thought which has stuck in the back of my mind: that to achieve real insight, the ‘critic of culture must both participate in culture and not participate’ (Adorno). Just because of the name, if nothing else, the category of ‘British Art’ is inevitably brought into play in relation to any BAN activity. But it is perhaps not the situation that it is something we have either to believe (patriotically or nostalgically) or disbelieve, support or attack,

identify with or oppose, in a categorical fashion. In the last newsletter I alluded to the philosopher Bernard Yack’s reflections: ‘Community’ he suggests, ‘involves awareness of difference as well as commonality. In other words, communities are composed of individuals who focus their attention on something that bridges, rather than erases, their differences’. What Yack was navigating was a productive position between the stark poles he observes in existing notions of collective identity: on the one hand, the idea of community as categorically, unavoidably based in inherited identity (ethnic, national or religious); on the other, an alternative idea of civil society as an artificial product of a contractual agreement, entered into voluntarily by self-defining individuals with differences of background and identity suspended. Professional associations, like BAN, may be the obvious example of the latter. But Yack’s suggestion is that the distinction is not so clear-cut. The bridges and connections suggested in the various contributions to this newsletter, all bringing a critical perspective to bear on the institutions of British art and all responding to current and emerging discussions within the membership, may reflect how the British Art Network as a whole may take shape as a community precisely because it is critical, precisely because it encompasses differences, and keeps actively in play a critical awareness of those differences.

Martin Myrone Convenor, British Art Network

mmyrone@paul-mellon-centre.ac.uk

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