Everything you ever wanted to know about Hans Ulrich Obrist but were afraid to ask has been asked by the sixteen practitioners in this book. Spanning the beginning of his “career” as a young curator in his Zurich kitchen to his time most recently as the Co-Director of Exhibitions and Programs, and Director of International Projects at the Serpentine Gallery in London, the book is a “production of reality conversations.” It undertakes the pinning down this peripatetic curator, attempting to map his psychogeography so that silences may be transcribed. In a sense, it organizes a “protest against forgetting” and affirms the sagacity of an artist who told this dontstop curator “don't go” when he “contemplated leaving the art world” for other fields—“to go beyond the fear of pooling knowledge”—in lieu of bringing other fields into the (then) hermetic art world. Contributors Jean-Max Colard, Robert Fleck, Jefferson Hack, Nav Haq, Noah Horowitz, Sophia Krzys Acord, Brendan McGetrick, Markus Miessen, Ingo Niermann, Paul O'Neill, Philippe Parreno & Alex Poots, Juri Steiner, Gavin Wade, Enrique Walker
Hans Ulrich Obrist is co-director of the Serpentine Gallery in London. Prior to this, he was Curator of the Musée d'art moderne de la ville de Paris from 2000 to 2006, as well as curator of Museum in progress, Vienna, from 1993 to 2000. Obrist has co-curated over 250 exhibitions since his first exhibition, the Kitchen show (World Soup) in 1991: including 1st Berlin Biennale, 1998; Utopia Station, 2003; 1st & 2nd Moscow Biennale, 2005 and 2007; Lyon Biennale, 2007; and Indian Highway, 2008-2011. Obrist is the editor of a series of conversation books published by Walther Koenig. He has also edited the writings of Gerhard Richter, Gilbert & George and Louise Bourgeois. He has contributed to over 200 book projects, his recent publications include A Brief History of Curating, dontstopdontstopdontstopdontstop, The future will be…with M/M (Paris), Interview with Hans-Peter Feldmann, and Ai Wei Wei Speaks, along with two volumes of his selected interviews (Interviews: Vol. 1 & 2). The Marathon series of public events was conceived by Hans Ulrich Obrist in Stuttgart in 2005. The first in the Serpentine series, the Interview Marathon in 2006, involved interviews with leading figures in contemporary culture over 24 hours, conducted by Obrist and architect Rem Koolhaas. This was followed by the Experiment Marathon, conceived by Obrist and artist Olafur Eliasson in 2007, the Manifesto Marathon in 2008, the Poetry Marathon in 2009, Map Marathon in 2010, and the Garden Marathon in 2011. In 2009, Obrist was made an Honorary Fellow of the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA). In March 2011, he was awarded the Bard College Award for Curatorial Excellence.
Although it seems as if this book will be about the influential, international, contemporary art curator Hans Ulrich Obrist, actually, the book is about itself. It’s a meta sort of publication that asserts its editorial choices so frequently that delving into the content of the subject’s thoughts becomes particularly challenging. I should’ve known this from just glancing at the back cover, which provides a summary of sorts, with phrases crossed out for emphasis and a character called the interfinity mark embossed and floating above the text. Inside, the type notes say, “The interfinity mark [which I can’t replicate for this review] can be described as an interrogative punctuation mark formed by superimposing the vertical infinity mark [#8 on its side] with a question mark [?]. The interfinity mark differs from the short-lived percontation point, invented in the late 16th century to indicate rhetorical questions, in that it denotes ever-lasting and ever-occurring questions. An interfinity question is a question that has both infinite number of answers and no answer at all.”
Sigh. That symbol and short paragraph of information epitomize the problems with this publication. This too-clever book is an almost pedantic presentation of interviews of Obrist, who, truly, should be studied or at the very least recorded without typographical intrusions, like the striked out phrases and sentences that the editor says, “call attention to the thrust of Obrist’s documented work: like a gyring spiral of phrases that pick up new meaning within the ever-changing context.” It’s like the editors have pre-highlighted and underlined all the good parts. I found this incredibly annoying. The experience of reading these interviews is like talking to someone for the first time and having another person nudging you from the side saying, “Oh, he said that before, and before, and before. He’s got nothing new to say.” And that last statement is the real issue, because not only does this book suggest that Obrist repeats himself [which the editor basically says in the point above] but he also works primarily with the same artists over and over again [mostly men], and has a set group of people and publications that have influenced his career [mostly men].
Particularly frustrating is how this whole approach goes against two of Obrist’s interests: 1) discovering and providing a history of exhibitions and 2) as a curator, acting as a bridge of sorts, as someone who opens up a space and then “disappears.” Regarding point number one, throughout the book Obrist says things like “I think it is astonishing that we have curatorial schools, but we have no literature on the history of exhibition curating,” (114), and “there is... a certain amnesia of curatorial history.” (129) If this volume is intended to add to the scholarship of curating and exhibitions, it is skimpy on the details. Who are these interviewers and writers? I mean, I know generally who some of them are, but if this book is supposed to ultimately serve as a historical resource, why provide such little information about the context of these interviews? Were they previously published? What is the relationship between the interviewer and Obrist? Is there more to the interview that wasn’t included in this publication?
Addressing the second point, Obrist repeatedly says, “My work is to liberate the path, to be a catalyst, and finally, to know how to disappear.” (195) That’s debatable, of course, particularly if you hit the comment with the relativist stick. But regardless, if being “invisible” is so important to Obrist, why did he allow this book supposedly About Curating [as stated in the title] to be all about the editing, about the presentation of the content and picking through it for selected meaning? He says that he is “very much opposed to the idea of a dominating curatorial approach which often stands in the way of the exhibition.” (166) Yet, I’d argue that’s exactly the problem with this book, in which the interviews are presented in such a way that what the editors find important is thrust in front of the reader to the detriment of a deeper reading of Obrist’s motivations.
Meanwhile, if you get through the interviews, which span 1995 to 2008 and are presented in reverse chronological order, you gather which exhibitions he consider to be the most important/influential to his own career. These include ones in his kitchen when he was just starting out; “do it” which originated in 1997; “Cities on the Move,” curated with Hou Hanru in 1997; “Utopia Station” at the Venice Biennale, curated with Molly Nesbit, and Rirkrit Tiravanija, 2003; and in general his ongoing gathering of interviews with people both in the artworld and outside of it.
Being somewhat envious of Obrist’s amazing career, I found certain tidbits revealing his secrets and struggles to be particularly interesting and also heartening. For example, he hates to spend time sleeping and used to follow the da Vinci rhythm, where you sleep for just 15 minutes every 3-4 hours. He says he had to stop that when he started having more regular office hours (42). Naturally, I was reading this part of the book while in bed, preparing for my nightly 8 hours, thinking, “Ahah! That’s his secret. Well, I’ll never do that.” He also talks about how financially hard it is to be an independent curator, that without institutional support he wouldn’t be able to do several projects, and that fundraising has become a major responsibility of curators and institutions who plan ambitious projects.
I feel as though, after reading the whole book, I’m no closer to understanding Obrist as a curator and as a person than I was from the start. As a result, my review has offered very little in the way of teasing out overarching concepts besides a few of the ones the editors themselves have stressed. I’m not exactly sure about the purpose of the book. Perhaps the title was meant to be ironic?
das Konzept bereits gesagtes der Interviews durchzustreichen ist an sich nciht schlecht aber es betont halt nur noch mehr das Gefühlt in diesem Buch alle Leute die selben Fragen stellen und immer die gleichen Leute, Ausstellungen und Ideen angesprochen werden. Grundsätzlich trotsdem spannend aber so ab Seite 120 sehnt man ein bisschen dem Ende entgegen
Hmm. Lots of enjoyable bits, but I have some bones to pick:
1) Why must we pretend that sleeping 2 hours each day is the secret to being an internationally famous curator. I’m sure it helps, but do we really need to dedicate so much space in a short book to this?
2) Wish I knew more about the interviewers! And their relationship to Obrist!
3) I haaaaate the crossing-out of his sentences. There are other ways to be revolutionary in the editing world and this is not one of them.
4) Footnotes should be used more than once a section! Perhaps!
Feels kinda slow at times but I guess that's the point of conversations and interviews too. Enjoyed thoughts of exhibition-making as a medium, curator as someone who bridges then disappears, "the best collectors are those who by time" (for the art), etc
As Hans Ulrich Obrist himself points out, interview tend to become repetitive over time. Anyway, it is always amazing to wander through the realm of HUO, to try understand what it means to be THE Curator. The interviews sum up his career and life, even if they tend to always highlight, sometimes in a narcissistic and self referential way, the same two or three matters: the importance of history and memory, the kitchen exhibition and the smallest sorts of exhibitions which sound in a way ground breaking yet have been pretty elitists for a curator who aims at expanding the world of art. I wouldn’t recommend this book if you have already read ‘Ways of Curating’, since it follows more or less the same structure, declined here in the interview medium.
Hans is overall a really interesting person. This book is incredibly hard to follow along with his projects without background knowledge. Read the wiki page on him before starting.
His concept of an exhibition organized by time rather than space is incredibly compelling, and is something I’ve been thinking about over the past few weeks.
I find the decision for annotated text strike through a to be incredibly distracting.
Overall, I'm happy I read it as I have been curious about art curation. Loads of interesting bits here and there, but lots of wandering. Maybe because I don't know much of his work. It feels like it could be much further edited to focus on Hans' brilliant work and ideas with the in-betweens.
Yona Friedman: the museum of XXI century for year 2000. Building a small town in Paris. Things would change and every five years a commitee would visit and freeze certain features: a home, mailbox or advertisement. The frozen features constitute the museum. The museum builds itself.
A little repetitive, but captures a lot of HUO's ethos and perspectives as it relates to what curation can be, beyond models of institutions, collections, and white cubes.
The hardest working man in Artshow-business tells us how well connected to creatives he is for about 200 pages. There may be a purpose beyond that, but it escapes me at the moment.