Black Arts

The sculpture "Entropa" by the Czech artist David Cerny – and the furore it has caused – remind us of the power of good political art.



David Cerny is no stranger to controversy, although previously this has remained relatively local. Whether painting a Russian memorial tank pink as a send off to departing soviet soldiers or decorating the futuristic Prague TV Tower with faceless, climbing babies, Cerny has been one of Czech art’s most prominent provocateurs. Now, having duped the Czech government that has recently taken over the presidency of the EU, he has generated a trans-European controversy which has enraged officials and energised the often soporific corridors of the EU.

Playing on the Czech word for Europe (Evropa) and the concept of Entropy, David Cernywas supposed to be co-ordinating a government funded project bringing together artists from each of the 27 EU member states to mark the Czech presidency. Playing on the EU slogan of ‘United in Diversity’, each country is presented as a snap-out piece from a self-assembly Europe kit, with the artists riffing on national stereotypes and prejudices. This elicited mixed reactions, with some praising the candour of the piece, while others objected that it merely reinforced prejudices and played up to cheap notions of each member state. However, when it became apparent that, despite the carefully composed biographies, websites and other props, the artists were actually fictional creations and the whole process had been engineered by Cerny and his team, the sparks really started to fly.

Discussing identities
Prague TV tower with Cerny's babiesThe Czech deputy PM for European affairs, Alexandr Vondra, was ‘unpleasantly surprised’, while the Bulgarians summoned the Czech ambassador to explain why an officially sanctioned art piece had chosen a Turkish toilet to symbolise their country.

Entropa brilliantly raises many issues which urgently need discussing in the European context, ranging from identity to image management and the simulative façade of politics as well as foregrounding the role of art itself in an age of commodification and official patronage. Why was it risqué but ultimately acceptable for artists to poke fun at their own country, but not for a foreigner to do it? What happens when the yawning gap between the European dream and the reality of the Euro-everyday is exposed? Where is the space for artistic creativity and independence, when contemporary art is so often valued only in monetary terms and revolutionary artists have all too often morphed into decorators for the rich?

Like much good contemporary art, Cerny asks us to question ascribed identities, from the national stereotypes so playfully presented, to the carefully honed harmony of the EU, which rings hollow when compared to its helplessness on the international stage.
That Cerny had to lie to the Czech government to bring this project to fruition exposes a disturbing trend – art and artists are all too often instrumentalised to the purposes of others, becoming as AnArchitektur put it (when describing architects) monkeys dancing while those with the money call the tune.

Czechs as balances: a history of satire
Given the overly marketised state of the art world, it is no wonder that much of the more interesting work being done at the moment comes from ‘subsidy artists’ who survive on grants from governments and foundations. However, while each of the donating institutions has its own goals and ambitions, it is clear that for really good art to be created, it cannot be subjugated to serving as legitimation for others. The Czech government clearly wanted to have something tangible to mark the clearest possible indication of their reintegration into the European mainstream. They got it, but not in the way they expected.

Far from being embarrassed, the Czechs can point to this as the latest episode in a subversive tradition that takes in the Good Soldier Svejk, the (imaginary) national hero Jara Cimrman, the protagonists of the novels of Kundera and Hrabal and in recent times, many of the younger artists working in Prague. Mocking Prague’s pretensions to be an Olympic city, while social issues go unaddressed, the Guma Guar collective produced posters of notorious criminals declaring ‘We are all on the national team’, hijacking the official slogan to great effect. Guma Guar also courted controversy by making work masquerading as that of the much loathed national gallery director Milan Knizak, foreshadowing Cerny’s deception. The Stohoven group inserted footage of a nuclear explosion into a weather forecast and Katerina Seda has produced wonderfully warm antidotes to contempory alienation and atomisation.

Artistic independence and free speech

Metalmorphosis by David CernyThe work of Cerny and these young artists stands for artistic independence, free thinking and free speech, as well as thumbing its nose at the EU’s carefully constructed version of Europe and Europeanness. One might therefore imagine that, although he and Cerny have history, the notoriously eurosceptic Czech President Vaclav Klaus would approve of this piece. However, Cerny doesn’t let his compatriot off the hook, making Klaus and some of his more notorious pronouncements the focus of the Czech puzzle piece. “Let the head of state have his say! He’s not just a skier but a great guy!”

Klaus’s opposition to all things EU has meant that the government has worked hard to keep him out of the limelight, while Prime Minister Topolanek and Deputy PM Vondra present the ‘acceptable’ face of Czech Euro-subservience. Cerny has therefore managed to strike another blow against the careful presentation and image management which is so often one of the biggest obstacles to understanding and engaging with contemporary politics. The gap between the EU’s image and reality needs to be addressed if the Union is to properly represent its peoples and act on the world stage as a legitimate and effective force for good.

The Czechs are enduring a baptism of fire in their first stab at the EU presidency, with Gaza and Gazprom plaguing their carefully prepared plans. They should look to their slogan – “Europe without barriers” – for inspiration and thank David Cerny for investing this with real meaning.

A copy of the full version of the Entropa project, complete with images of each country and false artists' biogs is available on request. Leave a comment or email me

Originally published on www.e-politik.de on 29/01/2009