Introduction
Mr. J. is an exceptional person. He knows how to talk to children and is able to engage people. They listen to him. He knows how to gain their respect. He exudes optimism. But when he speaks about his youth and school, you can hear a certain bitterness in his voice. He gradually lost touch with his peers at the atelier. He watches cultural programs on Czech TV Art, and when he by chance sees a former schoolmate in a program, he comments on their appearance out loud with sarcastic, and usually, accurate remarks. He also knows how to imitate them in a comedic way. David, Mainer or Střížek. He doesn’t like to show the sketches he did in school. When you ask him about them, he guides the conversation to another topic, or he tells you he doesn’t wish to talk about himself.
Almost immediately after the revolution, Mr. J. started up one of the first IT companies here. But still today he claims that he knows nothing about computers. He could have allegedly started an advertising agency like many of his friends at the time, but he was impressed by computers and how it was not yet possible to imagine just what all they would be capable of doing. During 20 years he allegedly did not have to bribe or corrupt anyone, and despite this his company became one of the twenty most successful in the industry. When you ask him how he has been able to become so successful, when he knows nothing about computers, he answers that he doesn’t know how to explain it: he always contemplates everything "organically." "I don’t think about the thing itself but about the background. Each problem lies on something or stands before something and is explained by something. So, I don’t sort it out by devoting time to it directly. I give all my attention to the surroundings – the light and the background." When Mr. J. speaks about his approach to work, he uses words that he learned as a student at Academy of Fine Arts.
The excerpt above from my 2014 exhibition Competence, at the Fotograf Gallery in Prague, may serve as an introduction to my project. It captures the (neo-liberal) mystery of artistic education, which, paradoxically, does not lead to becoming a "famous" artist, but nonetheless becomes a nourishing background for other activities entirely or partly independent of art. I suggest, this is a fundamental question: What happens to artistic competence, in the end, when artists put their sensibilities into other activities. What is interesting about this formation, and why are we voluntarily still part of the invisible dark matter of transitory artworlds?
Mr. J. is an exceptional person. He knows how to talk to children and is able to engage people. They listen to him. He knows how to gain their respect. He exudes optimism. But when he speaks about his youth and school, you can hear a certain bitterness in his voice. He gradually lost touch with his peers at the atelier. He watches cultural programs on Czech TV Art, and when he by chance sees a former schoolmate in a program, he comments on their appearance out loud with sarcastic, and usually, accurate remarks. He also knows how to imitate them in a comedic way. David, Mainer or Střížek. He doesn’t like to show the sketches he did in school. When you ask him about them, he guides the conversation to another topic, or he tells you he doesn’t wish to talk about himself.
Almost immediately after the revolution, Mr. J. started up one of the first IT companies here. But still today he claims that he knows nothing about computers. He could have allegedly started an advertising agency like many of his friends at the time, but he was impressed by computers and how it was not yet possible to imagine just what all they would be capable of doing. During 20 years he allegedly did not have to bribe or corrupt anyone, and despite this his company became one of the twenty most successful in the industry. When you ask him how he has been able to become so successful, when he knows nothing about computers, he answers that he doesn’t know how to explain it: he always contemplates everything "organically." "I don’t think about the thing itself but about the background. Each problem lies on something or stands before something and is explained by something. So, I don’t sort it out by devoting time to it directly. I give all my attention to the surroundings – the light and the background." When Mr. J. speaks about his approach to work, he uses words that he learned as a student at Academy of Fine Arts.
The excerpt above from my 2014 exhibition Competence, at the Fotograf Gallery in Prague, may serve as an introduction to my project. It captures the (neo-liberal) mystery of artistic education, which, paradoxically, does not lead to becoming a "famous" artist, but nonetheless becomes a nourishing background for other activities entirely or partly independent of art. I suggest, this is a fundamental question: What happens to artistic competence, in the end, when artists put their sensibilities into other activities. What is interesting about this formation, and why are we voluntarily still part of the invisible dark matter of transitory artworlds?