An Editorial Response to the article 'AIVD Commissioned Artwork But Got Cold Feet'
The AIVD: facelessThe Dutch General Intelligence and Security Service (AIVD) refurbished their headquarters in Zoetermeer in 2005. The government-run 'arts scheme' allows a percentage of the reconstruction budget to be invested in art. In most cases, organizations commission a sculpture, mural or other artwork to prettify the premises. But the AIVD went further, opting for an artwork to give the agency a "more human face". A proposal doomed to fail. A secret service is faceless by definition.
Jill Magid was awarded the commission. Great idea. This young American artist has a track record of working closely with more or less closed organizations, which is precisely what the AIVD is. Her most well-known production, the multi-media installation Evidence Locker (2004) was made in collaboration with the security company responsible for the city of Liverpool's CCTV system. The project involved Magid spending a month in Liverpool, filmed throughout by the CCTV system, developing a close relationship with the officers keeping her under surveillance.
Art can be banned but not obliterated
Magid's artwork for the AIVD is finished. Part of it was exhibited in The Hague, Holland: an exhibition of words —large, small and housed within neon tubes — elicited from eighteen AIVD spies. Together, they represent the collective 'face' of the organization. But the culmination of the project is currently on show in London's Tate Modern: the sole copy of the novel Magid wrote about her personal experiences. Heavily censored by the AIVD, the book is presented in a glass case, laid out like a seemingly lifeless Snow White. Look but don't touch. Magid invited the AIVD to come and confiscate the book and the agency has announced its intention to do so. There's no disputing that Magid stuck to the rules. But that wasn't the idea.
The issue recalls Dutch painter Sjoerd de Vries' portrait of the ex-lord mayor of Leeuwarden. Because the subject felt De Vries had painted his ears disproportionately large, he banned the work from public display. Although it may have vanished from sight, the painting is far from forgotten. Now it consists not only of paint and canvas and De Vries' artistry, but of the mayor's strident repudiation of the piece, and is still a talking point.
A good artist protects his or her autonomy, his work's life insurance.
Magid handed her artwork over to the AIVD, getting the better of it by doing so. In the meantime, the AIVD changed the rules, gnawed away at Magid's autonomy and is now confined within her project thus making it more eloquent than ever. Magid's work will be consigned to the archives of the Dutch government. Which will do very little to neutralize it. Artworks can be banned but not obliterated. The torch passes to their history.
Thanks to the AIVD, Holland is an intriguing and ever-articulate artwork the richer.
by Joyce Roodnat (Translated by Lisa Holden)
