It seems some integral contexts are missing from the debate surrounding the closure of Exhibit B, the controversial artwork by South African artist Brett Bailey, which restages the ‘human zoo’ practices that took place between the nineteenth and twentieth century. Exhibit B was programmed to open at the Barbican Centre, London, on 23rd September 2014 and the work was subsequently withdrawn after a protest took place outside of the Vaults on the opening night.
I have been reading critiques and opinions concerning the closure of the work at the Barbican centre, which came after an organised petition and protest led by journalist and activist Sara Myers, which became circulated as #BoycottTheHumanZoo campaign. Within the mainstream media representation of the campaign, the topic of censorship has dominated the debate, with very little engagement in the public’s response to the work or the organisations, activists and artists that were actively vocal in expressing the deep rooted issues in the marketing and staging of this work within London, UK.
Some mainstream media comments I have read have made me feel uneasy and others highly concerned about the authors’ perspectives, particularly those whom refuse to engage with the past and present colonial contexts which seem to be absent in the writing on this debate.
The missing societal contexts fundamental to this particular debate as I see them are; imperialism, white supremacy, capitalism, and patriarchy which culminate into the hierarchical system of oppression in which colonialism developed. The majority who are writing about the work are ignorant to the contexts in which we are existing, and contextualising the work from their own perspective without engaging in the wider social, political, cultural and historical narratives that surround this work. These narrow viewpoints are perhaps as harmful as the work itself, yet act as evidence to the dominant attitudes of those with voice within and on behalf of the arts and cultural sector.
The Exhibit B debate has exhausted the term ‘censorship’ and this topic has continued to be argued as the central concern of the debate. I believe in freedom of speech. I believe every human being has the right to speak and express themselves openly. I agree that art can (and should at times) be offensive, cause discomfort and raise difficult issues and that the artist has the right to freedom of expression in the work they produce and present. I don’t agree with the censorship of art, but I have to reconsider this stance if the artwork in question is potentially oppressive or harmful to society.
So before I continue, privilege MUST be recognised.
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that we live in an unequal society with uneven histories
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that imperialism, privilege and supremacy exists
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that power, privilege & influence are not distributed equally in our society
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that racial oppression is still a global issue
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that the trauma of enslavement is still present within the global diaspora
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that there has been no reparation for the atrocities of enslavement
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE racism is still an everyday occurrence (subtle and explicit)
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that racial injustice is present and pervasive
WE HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE that this is a complex debate, multifaceted and with nuanced voices.
We also need to recognise that although we use the term ‘post-colonialism’ to mark a period which no longer holds imperialist power and control over other ‘races’, ethnicities, cultures etc, (which I would contest) it would be a huge injustice to assume that large communities of people do not experience the overlaps of this still very recent history. It is within these contexts, and with this recognition of privilege and the acknowledgement of oppression as a persistent contemporary concern, that I want to discuss and think critically about Exhibit B and the discourse that surrounds it.
In our libertarian democracy, political and personal freedoms are deemed to be fundamental, with freedom of speech, expression and association at the forefront of national and international law. These principles suggest that we, as a society, participate as equals and that we should strive to promote respect for all human beings, to secure and insure this equality. In fact, Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which explicitly protects our rights to freedom of speech and expression, begins ‘All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights’ (UDHR, 1948) However, if one is to recognise that power, privilege and influence are not distributed equally in our society, that we are not all born into the same position of freedom and equality, we all have a responsibility to make sure our actions do not harm others. At times, this will also mean that we need to take ‘progressive measures’ (ibid), as the Declaration of Human Rights suggests, to ensure the rights of all people to dignity, self-realisation and protection from persecution.
To discuss freedom of speech in relation to Exhibit B, we also need to address ‘the harm principle’. This ethical consideration holds that ‘each individual has the right to act as s/he/they want, so long as these actions do not harm others’ (ibid) I would argue that this artwork, its staging and the marketing that surrounded it have the potential to do (and reiterate) psychological and social harm (which is comparable to violence and other forms of physical harm, and separate to offense or ‘bad taste’). This harm is not just perpetrated against those whose cultural identity and history are directly depicted in the work (people of colour, descendants of colonised peoples, people of African and Caribbean identity and Heritage) but also has the potential to do harm to our society at large.
It seems that there has been little consideration for the harm caused by the restaging of the zoo. After a public discussion held by Nitro (now nitroBEAT), the organisation which caste the actors for the show, at the Theatre Royal in Stratford a day before Exhibit B was to open at the Barbican, no resolution was reached. Activist and lead campaigner, Sara Myres, stated very clearly her case against the work during the panel discussion, and the majority of the audience were vocally in agreement. The Barbican initially chose not to honor the request of the 22,000 campaign signatures protesting against the exhibition’s opening, which asked for the work to be removed from the London area – that’s 22,000 signatures that expressed the harm they felt the exhibition was causing. With no further conversations with those protesting offered, a picket and blockade was formed outside of the Vaults on the show’s opening night and The Barbican took the decision to cancel Exhibit B’s five London performances, stating that “It became impossible for us to continue with the show because of the extreme nature of the protest and the serious threat to the safety of performers, audiences and staff”.
What are the ethical responsibilities for artist and arts institutions in presenting work which has the potential to be harmful amongst communities?
The problem with the type of harm caused by Exhibit B is that if you’re part of the dominant culture, you probably don’t experience it. For example, microagressions, as defined by psychologist Derald Wing Sue, are ‘brief, everyday exchanges that send denigrating messages to certain individuals because of their group membership’ (Sue, 2010: 24). Most of the time, this kind of ‘subtle violence’ is not even intentional and can be carried out by the most well-meaning of people. Rather than outright, deliberate or intended bigotry, microagressions include repeating or affirming stereotypes about a ‘minority group’ (i.e. the positioning of otherwise underrepresented black bodies as ‘enslaved’, perpetuating victimhood), or statements that minimize the existence of discrimination against a ‘minority group’ or the real conflict between the ‘minority group’ and the ‘dominant culture’ (the sense, in the staging of this work, that issues of subjugation, discrimination and oppression are able to be presented by ‘dominant culture’ through their own perspectives yet when confronted by ‘minority groups’ are unable or refuse to engage with them). The most dangerous part of this is how unaware those perpetrating this ‘subtle violence’ are – they intend no offense and are unaware they are causing harm. Franz Fanon refers to this stance as ‘playing the irresponsible game of Sleeping Beauty’ (Fanon, 1961: 62) In this case the position of the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ allowed for the ‘dominant culture’ and privileged voices premise to label the protesters for their resistance, rebuke the closure of the work, and term this as ‘censorship’, suggesting freedom of speech is something only the ‘dominant culture’ can claim – a remarkable insight into contemporary imperialist ideology.
We live in a society managed by gatekeepers, those in positions of power and authority (i.e. media, government, politics, publishing, broadcasting, policing, academia, cultural institutions), and those whose actions have the potential to significantly change that position. However, if gatekeepers (in the case of Exhibit B, both the artist and the institution’s curators/programmers/directors/ critics) do not uphold in their ethical responsibility to engage with the missing context, made explicit by the public’s reaction to the work, then they remain complicit in systemic oppression, which could also be regarded as a ‘subtle violence’ that maintains social inequality.
But the performers supported the piece, and they didn’t think it was racist? And they’re black… (i.e. I’m not racist I’ve got black friends!)
During the defense of Exhibit B against the public’s criticism, some of the reflective statements written by the work’s performers (included in the work) were quoted and the actors interviewed to give their opinions of the work. The implication throughout was that if this piece was ‘racist’ black/POC performers would not be involved with it and the use of the actors’ statements felt like an attempt to further validate this.
There are problems with this use (and potential exploitation) of the performers’ voices on a number of levels. Firstly, the performers were under contract (paid) as part of the piece and so would have a professional and financial stake in the piece going ahead. Secondly, they had auditioned, researched, rehearsed and performed these roles, and so would have a significant personal investment in the piece and are embedded in the experience (the performers after all are having a very different experience to that of the viewer). Thirdly, and most importantly, just because the performers supported this work, doesn’t mean their voices represent all black/POC voices in the reading of this work.
It seems that Bailey (and all involved in the production) had good intentions for this work but failed to understand that the experience of this particular narrative, from the perspective of the ‘dominant culture’, is not ‘universal’ and that to present it as such is damaging and harmful. In a similar way, the presentation of the voices and experiences of the performers as representative of ‘all black/POC voices’ is flawed, damaging, exploitative and harmful as both an act of (micro)aggression and as a way to try and silence dissent.
Criminalising the protestors and claiming censorship
The narrative constructed by the Barbican and mainstream media used to justify the closure of the exhibition is a major concern. It seemed as if the protestors were scapegoated by being cast as criminalized protagonists to divert the attention away from of the main issues that were facing the Barbican, Nitro and the artist – that the work is not just offensive but (subtly) violent, exclusionary and oppressive. Protestors were described as “angry” “arrogant” and a “mob” and even “bullies” and “morons” and the language used in the Barbican’s official statement on the closure of the show insinuated that the protests were ‘extreme’ and violent in nature, posing a ‘serious threat’ to the safety of performers, audiences and staff.
There is nothing new about the black/POC people being criminalized in society and so the irony here is that the work of art which intends to ‘highlight historical racist practices’ unintentionally highlights contemporary racist practices happening as a response to the work – the stereotyping of acts of protest by black/POC people as aggressive, threatening or criminal; the role of racial profiling in policing in the UK and elsewhere; and the institutional racism embedded in many of the established conventions of British society.
I feel that the re-focussing of the debate onto concerns around censorship is a final act of (micro) aggression and ‘(subtle) violence’ by the parties involved in an attempt to silence the vital critical debate around the underlying issues that Exhibit B states it seeks to address.
So what now?
So where do we go from here? If we going to talk openly about colonial history and present art work about colonial history, then we need an open and critical discourse on privilege, particularly in the arts and cultural sector. My main concern is that the oppression felt by the surrounding communities about this work was not addressed with ethical care. On the contrary, I found the many reviews by critics in the media and the Barbican’s responses and language used against the protestors in the resistance of the work unnecessarily divisive and ignorant. The withdrawal of Exhibit B could be understood as censorship or could be understood as a act of resistance to racial oppression.
As an artist I am highly concerned about what has surfaced from this debate. How can I trust my sector and those who are responsible leaders within venues and organizations, those who programme and fund work, or those whom have written on the work and the debate and made transparent their lack of critical awareness through their own privileged perspectives?
We know that our sector is predominately made up of those whom benefitted, and still benefit, from colonial history, and we need to establish a more diverse sector to ensure that this kind of ‘(subtle) violence’ does not continue. Art should be given the opportunity to fail and I believe this piece has failed in its intention, but through its failure it has opened a very important dialogue and one which the sector MUST ACKNOWLEDGE. A dialogue fundamental to the evolution of a fairer society and a call for a fairer and more diverse arts and cultural sector in the UK.
Colonial history has affected us all in different ways. There is social healing that needs to be done from the multiple narratives of British colonial history. I do not believe perpetuating shame is the way forward, because it continues to bypass the responsibility of the ‘dominant culture’. At the same time we do need to acknowledge and understand the severity of what has been done. I feel it is important we now consider how our sector begin to work on these difficult issues and be accountable, responsible and ethical in how they are using their privileges.
We have to keep questioning the continuous rewriting of this history and not ignore the assumption that ‘history’ is something objective and true, rather than a set of convenient truths written by those in control of the status quo, and that historical narratives might be faulty and serve to reinforce discrimination even if that is unintentional.
Franz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (1961).
Derald Wing Sue, Microaggressions in Everyday Life: Race, Gender, and Sexual Orientation (2010).
‘Exhibit B: Offensive or Harmful?’, was originally written by Ria Hartley and edited by Rachel Dobbs, September 2014.