Songs for Sabotage
The New Museum Triennial
The New Museum Triennial is only in its fourth iteration, but is already as famous as any large scale art fair or biennial. There is good reason for its notoriety: the New Museum gives emerging artists and curators nearly total carte blanche. There are pros and cons that come along with this, but it certainly makes for an exhilarating and challenging experience rarely to be had in a major museum.
Entitled Songs For Sabotage and curated by Gary Carrion-Murayari, Kraus Family Curator at the New Museum, and Alex Gartenfeld, founding Deputy Director and Chief Curator at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Miami, this is an exhibition that explores the global network of contemporary art. This triennial positions itself as a rejection of colonial power, racism, nationalism, and the various destructive forces wrought by capitalism. This certainly feels timely, and at times, one is struck with moments of awe and revelation.
The last triennial that occurred in 2015 was a digital fantasia, and was cool with its politics. This is not the case here. This deals with more traditional mediums like painting and sculpture, but there is an added relevance with frequent injections of globalism, identity politics, and an outright confrontation with oppression of all sorts. The work is largely successful and has a certain level of subtlety that is often lacking in the Trump era. However, the curatorial premise is something I take issue with. All relevant descriptions, press releases, and wall texts are riddled with academic jargon that makes any sense of protest or urgency seem disingenuous and vain. The triennial often has this issue: curators alienate viewers who do not possess the academic literacy that museum staffers are privileged to have. Let us not forget that the art world is still very rich and white. It would certainly be more interesting to confront issues such as these without academic curators, but instead with activists or artists who are directly involved with addressing and creating change.
Let me reiterate: the art is, by and large, wonderful. Go visit and make up your own mind about the curators, but I think the art will be worth your time. If painting is your thing, this is certainly the show for you. Where the 2015 triennial focused on installation, video, and virtual reality, Songs for Sabotage feels more intimate and steeped in history. There are lush canvases by Tomm El-Saieh, who offers his own Haitian identity (i.e.- a tropical climate, traditional Vodou, etcetera) as a formula to create sublime works that are sparkling with layers of light and color.
However, beauty often takes a backseat to power at Songs. The California-based Janiva Ellis has work in the show that feels like a total opposition to El-Saieh’s timeless trances. Her work is colorful and figurative, and has echoes of Robert Colescott. Often questioning and examining the history, violence, and discomfort of black womanhood, Ellis shows the viewer brightly colored scenes and portraits that shows bodies that are morphed and disfigured. The seemingly bright and cheery color palette makes the violated bodies feel even more emotionally fraught.
More discrete views of neglect and violence pervade the exhibition, too. The paintings by the transgender Mexican artist Manuel Solano have the large, rough quality of an untrained outsider. However, as you soon learn, much of this work was done in response to crises brought on by an ignorant Mexican government and its equally deficient healthcare system. Solano lost their vision due to complications with HIV when they were denied care multiple times by state clinics. Self-portraits became their mode of expression following this traumatic (and preventable) episode. Solano’s reconciliation between their former and present selves is frustrating to see because it illustrates the absolutely broken systems which are supposedly there to care and protect citizens. However, it is powerful to see an artist taking control of their narrative and defying all logic to succeed.
I do not think Songs for Sabotage remedies the New Museum Triennial’s usual issues. There are still the architectural flaws of the museum galleries. The curators didn’t strike the right tone or pitch either. However, this triennial felt the most relevant for our current cultural moment. Despite the persistently messy quality of the triennial, each work feels important and necessary. That’s a rarity, if you ask me.
