The Better Part of Us
curated by Maria Vassileva
29.02.2024 - 04.04.2024
Societies are structured in the dynamic between the domination of minorities over the majority and the idea of broad-based cooperation. Domination is only possible through the act of violence. This is the easy form of building society. Cooperation, on the other hand, requires much more intellectual power in the form of accumulated knowledge, creative solutions and the expression of free will. Where is the place of the artists in this dynamic and do they even have a role in these processes? Definitely yes. Always has and always will. There is no one else who can describe the tragic futility of violence and to suggest creative solutions for possible forms of collaboration.
The exhibition “The Better Part of Us” gathers works by 12 artists from different generations and periods – from 1992 to today. All the works deal with different forms of violence: from the terror against women and animals, through the political regulation and management of society (called “biopolitics” by Michel Foucault), the fearful manifestations of nationalism, the role of toxic media environment and the manipulations of the film industry, to war as its extreme. Although situated on the dark side of the emotional and rational spectrum, the exhibition not only documents and warns, but also preserves the hope that a “better part” still exists.
In the mid-1990s, Pravdoliub Ivanov created various flag works influenced by the nearby military conflict on the territory of neighbouring Yugoslavia. The flag is usually recognized as a distinctive sign of state independence and national belonging, but covered with soil it is no longer distinguishable from other flags because it is neutral like the very land on which the state territories are distributed. With the use of mud and earth in “Territory” (1995) the author suggests the idea of “trampling” on everything that the flag affirms as significant.
Kalin Serapionov‘s “Keep the Weapon as Your Toothbrush” (1995) was created as a reaction against the violence in its various forms, which in the mid-1990s was an everyday occurrence in Bulgaria. Locally – the criminal years at the beginning of the transition period, but also internationally – the growing conflicts in the Balkans. The gun is the natural symbol of violence, but in the work it appears in the form of a toy gun, a copy of the real one, one that rattles with caps. It is placed inseparably next to another tool of everyday life – the toothbrush, which we use throughout our lives.
“National Helmet“ (1992) by Kiril Prashkov although created in the distant 1992, seems to be even more relevant today. Nationalisms often serve to justify violence by hiding it behind the sanctity of pure ideals. In recent years, Bulgarian society has also become mired in the vicious circle of the preachers of the national idea, which not infrequently leads to violence and civil wars.
Nina Kovacheva‘s work is part of a series of drawings (2015), the title of which is the title of a visionary poem by William Blake – „The Marriage of Heaven and Hell“. The artist develops this motif to suggest to us that there are no innocents. Even those who look like that and play with plastic guns can turn into monsters. Isolated and lonely, the characters switch roles; the comics becomes reality and vice versa.
In “Blood Revenge I” (2006) Boryana Rossa and Oleg Mavromatti shoot each other with water pistols filled with their own blood. The line between the desire to kill and the suicidal act is very thin.
In “Background Action (Rehearsal)” (2007/2008) Krassimir Terziev traces the three-month journey of some 300 Bulgarians hired by Warner Bros as a “specialized crew” for the filming of the battle scenes in the movie Troy (2004). Each of them went to Mexico with different motives and dreams, but in the end they are left with the memory of the fight scenes that get completely out of control and turn into real battles with running horses, enraged opponents and showers of arrows overhead, with consequences such as broken limbs, wounds and a gigantic amount of real or made-up blood. Just like the warrior of the Iliad, the extras return home with their battle trophies in the form of photographs and video recordings. The combination of these image-trophies and their personal stories, along with the production’s movement maps and metaphorical figures, form a narrative that questions the self-identification of individuals in a conflict staged by the global film industry that goes far beyond the confines of film.
Since 2019 Neno Belchev has been working on a full-length, hand-drawn “non-film”. Almost all of the drawings are free copies of famous works or works by the artist himself. Without exception they are related to the theme of violence. They include all the important heroes and anti-heroes of human civilization from antiquity to the present, many of them seen through the eyes of great artists.
Constantine Zlatev‘s sculpture “Glorified” (2019) is composed of the mutilated remains of a toy (a child’s pram), resurrected with a piece of military uniform, emblazoned with the appropriate military insignia and decorations. Visually, this work is directly related to many artifacts found after the bombing of Hiroshima, and most directly to the famous “Shin’s Tricycle” (Shin’s Tricycle – Shin was a three-year-old boy killed by the atomic bomb and buried by his father with his favourite toy). The work aims to provoke reflection on the paradox of the idea that human suffering can be easily compensated for by a sense of honour, heroism and greatness.
Yavor Kostadinov reacts to random accidents, found photographs and permanent situations, such as animal abuse. More direct or more metaphorical, his works (2017-2020) create an eclectic picture, completely adequate to the world we live in.
Dimitar Traychev begins his work on the series in Blagoevgrad during an artist residency in 2023. Apparently, pleasant creative trips in the beautiful countryside are not what they used to be, because the reality that lurks behind the walls of one’s own home is cruel. Fascinated by the perfection of the weapons that sow death, the artist “aestheticizes” the horror of war as if it will not affect us.
Simeon Simeonov‘s sculpture “With Hanging Umbilical Cord“ (2021) claims existential insight into our own flesh and essence. Made of cheap, polluting materials, it asks questions about the beginning and the end, about where we have come from and where we are going.