OPEN LETTER
I write this letter to communicate
my resignation to the official invitation to represent Venezuela in the national
pavilion of the 50th Venice Biennial. This decision is a fundamentally ethical
one and I have taken it as a Venezuelan and as an artist responsible and aware
of our reality.
It is true that my proposal "La Colmena" was presented last year to
the committee that would designate de Venezuelan representation in the Biennial.
But, since then, the critical situation of the country has dramatically accelerated,
urging us a gesture that can represent something more than the artwork itself
now: the absence-presence as the only answer.
Having been presented in several international exhibitions of this nature (including
the last Venice Biennial) I know through my own experience the importance that
is put upon any artistic career by being included in these events. But I consider
that my main duty is to foreground my ethical responsibility over any personal
interest. "I must forget myself to have access to the other" was for
the philosopher Emmanuel Levinas one of the best definitions of an ethical conduct,
creating a paradigmatic concept for all artists or cultural producers. This
model of commitment can describe the foundations of an ethic based on respect
of difference and the intention to incorporate "the other" within
artistic discourse. This position was the one that led me, in its moment, to
take the decision to participate in Venice Biennale with a work produced in
collaboration with the communities of the "23 de Enero"* and it is
the same one that led me to resign today from the Venezuelan representation.
To participate in the official selection in this situation, under the patronage
of the state, would be in some way a betrayal of the principles on which I have
built my body of work for over a decade, principles that have always placed
me side by side with the excluded ones of our society, those invisible
subjects within the social fabric: the mentally ill confined in psychiatric
hospitals, prisoners or the populations of shanty towns.
I have never believed in the autonomy of the work of art over the social context
and believe that the Venezuelan pavilion today embodies a toxic environment
that would inevitably contaminate the reading of any work of art that deals
with social inequality.
Especially in moments in which the manipulation of information, violence, populism,
intolerance, and nationalisms constitute the political discourses shared by
the state and the official opposition. The terrible polarization
that literally has divided the country in two makes it impossible to articulate
a critical position that can operate "in-between" these irreconcilable
dichotomies.
As intellectuals we must maintain a critical position in relation to any authoritative
and anti-democratic discourse come where it may, because these positions cover
up the corruption and struggle for power that are choking the country. The cultural
sector reflects this crisis in a specific way. This is another reason that makes
it unthinkable for me to be part of an enterprise that without a doubt will
generate a considerable cost to the nation in a moment when museums and theatres
lack electrical services, to cite only one example that illustrates the pathetic
situation that our institutions are going through.
When the vise-minister of culture suggests to the museums that they reduce their
electrical consumption, I cant help reading this in a very symbolic way
and recalling ironically Simon Bolivars motto that supposedly is the motor
of the "cultural revolution". ("Morals and Enlightenment are
our first needs")
Without Morals and Light it is impossible to imagine cultural endeavors.
Do you sleep well Mr. Vise-Minister?