The painting The Spear by Brett Murray has by now aroused such interest and reaction
negative and positive that it has taken on a form beyond itself, an image which
became the symbol and space for all to use for their motives of expression. From
the original intent of satirising government and the president to a method of
reinforcing racial clashes, discussions of freedom of speech to discussions of
what is the role of art or what is art, as well as a well written post-colonial critique I would recommend.
I can’t help but think that as a
painting, an isolated object of art it is rather simple (aesthetically, I mean,
that poster aesthetic is kind of what a lot of people do, there is is even that
function on Photoshop) and as political satire goes, quite superficial. An artist doesn’t have to work hard when using a figure who already carries all
the weight of meaning on itself. The power of this artwork lies within its
context and the debates it aroused. And
I would like to also argue that the defacement of it (although I really do not
wish the gallery or artist any harm), would be the ultimate act to complete it.
W.J.T Mitchell comes to mind in his
discussions of iconology and iconoclasm. Both the artist and the defacers used an
iconoclastic gesture. Both acts could be considered violent. The artist using subversion
breaks down the untouchable image of the president by showing us his genitalia.
It is a violent act to expose someone,
it is a violating act. And some might argue, yes but he is a bad president, he
inspired it, but one must also say, yes but he is also human, and can still be hurt,
he can still be violated. This gesture in some way reveals this contradiction.
Then there are the defacers.
Physically painting over the image which angers, the wish to destroy it, to
cover it is violent, the word deface itself indicates this violence. Usually
objects displayed in a gallery on the wall remains untouchable, they are holy objects
to be admired, to be contemplated, to be sold, but never to be touched. That
final act of defacement was a violent one, and rebellious against the system of
the gallery. The covering up of the painting with a red crosses and then with
black paint reveals just as much as that of the original.
Both works revealed this
relationship with violence we have in South Africa. We use it for a motif as we
criticize it, we us one form of violence to satirise the president, another
form to counteract it. It was also
revealed on blogs and Facebook in the commentary by readers and viewers as this
soon became the way for people to personally attack each other’s view. We like to complain in South Africa about the
crime and violence, but I dare to say that our attitudes of distrust and defence
lies right in the middle of our problem. Or perhaps this is the result of it.
Another topic arouse through this
work was that of censorship and freedom of speech. The president wanted them to
take the painting down. The gallery refused, stating it will not succumb to
censorship. People advocating that it was freedom of speech, the right of the artist,
congratulated the gallery for standing up for freedom, while others criticised
saying that this disrespect of the president must not be stood for. Of
course censorship is a slippery slope and for sure a president must not be
allowed to censor artworks, if one can start, before one knows it, anything
that defies the president can be shut down and then we have a problem. Yet the
defacement of this painting revealed the complexities of freedom of speech and
its relationship to who holds the power. Some of the same advocates that hailed the
painting as the right to expression of the artist found this defacement a crime, and from a video I saw the culprits
were arrested and quite violently so too. Yet weren’t these defacers not just
using their freedom of expression?
Defacing a painting is an atrocity
someone said on Facebook. Why would such an act be considered more violent to
some than the (albeit visual) personal attack on the president – a human being? The ultimate
was revealed when they started speaking about the monetary value of the work, how this
cost the gallery and the artist R 100 000 (or something like that). We all know
the art market is based on speculation, this is not the true worth of the
painting, yet many of those same advocates of freedom of expression considered
this an important enough reason to justify that the defacers freedom of expression
was in fact illegal, that its monetary value excludes it from the fire. The ultimate
question lies within this, what are the limits of freedom of expression or more
specifically, who has the right to freedom to expression? Those who have ownership?
Another question arises, when does something pass as hate speech, one wonders
don’t haters also have a right to expression (the twitter model debacle comes
to mind)?
These questions cannot easily be answered and
should never result in censorship. Yet we must ask ourselves what responsibility
we carry in our right to expression, what violence do I carry in my right to
expression? So in the end I must wonder about the brilliance of this painting
as it revealed so much more then the short comings of our president and the
ruling party, but also so very much about our own hypocrisies.
