Art with no comfort blanket

At first glance, ‘Everything Is True – Nothing Is Permitted’, curated by Kendell Geers at Brutus in Rotterdam, is a star-studded lineup of artistic heavyweights, many of whom might now be considered the pinnacle of market success. Among them are icons like Guy Debord, Marlene Dumas, Marcel Broodthaers, Gilbert & George, Martha Rosler, Andres Serrano, Jake and Dinos Chapman, Alfredo Jaar, Arthur Jafa, Kara Walker, and Geers himself. The point is that these artists initially created works as radical gestures that were relatively resistant to commodification. They could not have foreseen a world where social media converts radical symbolic gestures into viral content or where art funding structurally rewards practices framed in activist rhetoric. On the train from Amsterdam to Rotterdam, I wondered: aren’t activism, dissent, and rebellion now inextricably tied to the market and the insatiable attention economy we’re all part of?

As a small act of defiance, I stopped at a nearby KFC for a meal deal. I needed to purge my preconceptions by getting back into my body. Mid-bite, I realised that against the odds, I still believe in art’s power to speak to the fundamental aspects of human existence. 

Geers’ timing felt apt. The current art market is dull and offers little space for works that defy conventions and traditional media. I think we need to celebrate art that is ‘useless’ to the market. Instead, currencies of surprise and provocation should be welcomed in an era where our tastes are becoming algorithmically refined. 

The complete scale of Brutus is museum-like and the presentation of this show is stripped of any pretension. No space would better suit Geers’ vision of disruption, rebellion, and ‘terror-realism’. The artist and curator told me that “this show seeks to return the power of the image itself. I stuck simple paper on derelict walls as a brutalist gesture.” The signs of dissent were everywhere: fire, blood, weapons, bodies, broken objects, squandered architecture. Ominous sounds and smells echo through Brutus’ industrial halls, which bring to mind the Situationists and early performance artists of the late ’60s and ’70s.

On my first walk through the show, which was produced in collaboration with radical arts organisation a/political, I was struck by the meters-long path of shattered light beams by Michel François. There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing mass-produced objects destroyed simply through the repetitive act of walking. It’s also very ironic, given how such transgressive acts are nowadays flattened into #satisfying online content trends. Art, whether visual or behavioral, seems doomed to be diluted in popular culture. Although different in context, this flattening also applies to the overt activist rhetoric in works by Maria Maria Acha-Kutscher, Nadya Tolokonnikova/Pussy Riot (who will be performing at the Finissage on 14th June), Marinella Senatore, and Dread Scott. Outside Brutus in the post-woke era, their contributions risk feeling like identity politics platitudes, echoing the endless infographics and performative protests of current times that undermine their own worthwhile causes. Maybe this points to a generational divide in idealism, or maybe I’m just a chronically online, highly cynical late-millennial who feels increasingly alienated from progressive politics. 

As Geers told me: “It is very easy to provoke through clickbait these days. We need a more in-depth way of thought provocation. Art can take away the comfort blanket and make you think for yourself.” The works that resonated most were those eliciting a visceral response or confusion, even when addressing socio-political struggles. Regina José Galindo, Smriti Keshari and Eric Schlosser, Carlos Martiel, Holly Miller, Kara Walker, and Arthur Jafa also explored oppressor/oppressed binaries, dragging me into the dark undercurrents of Western civilisation. I still believe Arthur Jafa’s Love Is the Message, The Message Is Death is one of the greatest video works of the 21st century. Its fusion of brutality, beauty, and meaning is truly biblical. It makes all the difference to see it in Brutus’ grimy basement. The same sentiment applies to Serrano’s Piss Christ and the gruesome contributions of Sigalit Landau, Milica Tomić, Tony B, Petr Pavlensky, Johan Grimonprez and Kendell Geers. We see bodies in self-inflicted suffering, limbs suspended, blood spilled, skin pierced. It evokes the visceral universal emotions I had pondered at KFC and my hope was vindicated.

The biggest surprises in the show came from MadeInEric and Selma Selman, whose works made me laugh out loud. MadeInEric’s oversized, gold-leaf-covered close-ups of anuses wryly critique contemporary art’s earlier-noted tendency to convert radical gestures into luxurious decoration. Selman’s recorded performance, in which she screams “You have no idea!” at a BLM rally, captures today’s protest dynamics, where causes are co-opted, supported, or disrupted by adjacent grievances. Her ambiguity channels the Situationists’ mischievous spirit, challenging consensus in a way that’s been sorely missing in art lately – especially in The Netherlands, where the reverence for the old masters and modernist icons still reigns. It is generally refreshing to see a group show that mixes household names, your-artist’s-favorite-artist, and younger local artists. Geers clearly approaches curation like an artist, circumventing official channels to bring those he admires, his friends and their friends together in this energetic display.

‘Everything Is True – Nothing Is Permitted’ at Brutus screams that an immoral world demands art embracing immorality, absurdity, and violence. My therapist once said healing requires integrating our noble and nefarious traits. Geers seems to suggest we require this integration to grow flowers from the sociopolitical manure we’re in. When we spoke, he profoundly declared that “The only truth that we know is our own bodies.” I was not that far off when I commanded myself to get back into my body at KFC.