On the occasion of preparing a Paris exhibition under one of our projects, Science Poems, OK Do met Marc-Olivier Wahler, the director and curator of Palais de Tokyo. We talked about Gakona, Spy Numbers and Chasing Napoleon, the ongoing exhibition trilogy in the intersection of science and imagination, and about practices of curating and interpretation.
MOW at his Palais de Tokyo office.
The Gakona exhibition is named after a small village in the center of Alaska, home to the American High-frequency Active Auroral Research Program (H.A.A.R.P.), and the title of Spy Numbers draws on the mysterious series of numbers (secret messages) read out on radio waves. What about Chasing Napoleon, what inspired its name?
Chasing Napoleon got its name from the suspense of chasing someone who has disappeared, like Napoleon did. The name also relates to The Battle of Berezina, the end of Napoleon’s great army, which has given another name for disaster in French. Chasing Napoleon is about the berezina of our everyday life logic. It’s an exploration on disappearing.
After Gakona and Spy Numbers, the electromagnetic spectrum and the infra-thin, Chasing Napoleon explores the margins of the visible. All the exhibitions seem to be connected to each other through an interest towards the unexplained and the invisible. Do you agree, and is this where you left off as well?
Last year, we had a programme about the excess and logic of the visible. We were showing super spectacular artwork. So this year, we wanted to explore the absence of the visible instead. With Gakona, Spy Numbers and Chasing Napoleon, we went outside the spectrum of visibility – into the electromagnetic spectrum.
Would you say that the exhibitions also draw inspiration from the possibility of mapping out new routes to the real through combining scientific research with creative experiments?
Yes. For me, this is a very essential question, and it has to do with analytical philosophy. I mean, can we speak about a museum with the language of a museum, or art with the language of art? I don’t think it’s possible anymore. We have to jump outside the sphere we are studying – in the same way as important discoveries in science were possible because scientists were using techniques, grammar or logic borrowed from other fields. For instance, with PALAIS /, the magazine of Palais de Tokyo, which works as a supplement to the exhibitions, we never work with art historians or art critics but rather with people from different fields: scientists, strategists, linguists, anthropologists, etc. All different fields of knowledge imply a certain way of looking at things, and by transferring those grids of interpretation into the art world we can cast new light upon the content.
What is the significance of questioning the dominant realities for you? And do you think that scientists and artists are best equipped to do that? In your opinion, what are the principal similarities and differences in their approaches to exploring reality?
Art, for me, is a tool. Artists give tools for people to view reality more acutely. It’s not their task to change it or come up with new inventions like scientists do.
“Artists give tools for people to view reality more acutely. It’s not their task to change it or come up with new inventions like scientists do.”
How did you become interested in people such as Nikola Tesla, an inventor in the field of electromagnetism or Theodore Kaczynski (aka Unabomber), the notorious mathematician known for his disbelief in modern civilization and technological development – the two lodestars of the exhibition series?
I have many friends who are very interested in the Unabomber and we’ve had many discussions about him. And Tesla… Well, I think he’s one of the greatest inventors of all times but he’s not really recognised. He lived in the margin – as did the Unabomber, too. I like people who try to disappear in order to reappear in a totally super spectacular way.
Palais de Tokyo, Paris.
We find that the exhibition series successfully explores the relationship between people and technology, which often involves ambiguity, mysteries and even fear, yet remains fascinating at the same time. Is your goal either to make technology and its mysteries more familiar to people or make people more curious by dealing with the mystical side of technological spheres and systems?
I’m not trying to explain technology or art or anything; it’s about tools. If you understand electromagnetism, you may also have a chance to understand art in a special way. And if you understand quantum physics, for example, you might possess a tool for understanding contemporary art very well. In science, there is no such thing as one true solution. A logic of selection doesn’t exist – instead of yes or no or black or white it’s all about yes and no and black and white. One can’t exclude a solution for it being paradoxical or antagonist. I think a good artwork is like that, too – the more “schizophrenic” reactions and the more dense discussion it arouses, the more efficient tool it is. It gives way to multiple interpretations while the core of it remains autonomous.
“If you understand quantum physics, you might possess a tool for understanding contemporary art very well.”
Do you think art and its interplay with value systems can enhance responsibility and openness in the field of science e.g. by exploring the activities of H.A.A.R.P. (American High-frequency Active Auroral Research Program) rumoured to cause climatic disruption and paranormal human behaviour?
Well, I think good art is always political. For example, in Chasing Napoleon you can sense the questioning of capitalism and high technology. But you can see the exhibition from many different viewpoints, looking at it from a formal, ethical or political perspective – or from none of those perspectives at all.
Does your background involve scientific experience or how did you come up with the concept for the exhibition trilogy?
No, my background is in philosophy and art history. But I like science, even though I don’t know anything about it. I do read a lot of articles and books because I’m interested. I remember reading an article on New York Times about the “cosmic jerk” that happened five billion years ago. What interested me is that because the universe is expanding all the time, there are no fixed points. And I think this applies to art, too: an artwork can’t be seen as a fixed point in time and space as it always links to different contexts. This is the way I see it, art is all about linking things.
“Art is all about linking things.”
How did you find the right pieces of work and finally work with the artists?
I never do a theme show. Instead, I tell a story which enables many interpretations. I start with the space and three or four artworks in mind that form the skeleton of the exhibition. Then, I build up on that. It’s all about feeling and intuition, not about logic that much. It’s only after the exhibition is gone that I realise what I actually did.
Micol Assaël's Vorkuta, a walk-in refridgerator, reflects the living circumstances of a Siberian ghost town where nature reconquers man. Photo by the courtesy of Palais de Tokyo.
Paul Laffoley, an architect turned artist, explores an eclectic array of thought processes from established theories to paranormal sciences in his work. Photo by the courtesy of Palais de Tokyo.
How did you come across Paul Laffoley’s art?
My homeopath told me about it – he said that I’m a crazy guy but that he knows someone even crazier than me. Then I went on Paul Laffoley’s website and was really impressed. He knows many things, e.g. what happened five thousand years ago and what will happen during the next centuries.
Do you tend to consult specialists from different fields for background information when curating an exhibition? Can you tell us an example of this type of interdisciplinary collaboration in your work?
I’m always trying to listen to people. I mean, I can’t be everywhere so I need to listen to what is being said about new artists, trends and interests. When I go and have dinner, the best discussions I have are with people like collectors, scientist or artists who have an obsession of some kind. I like it when people are totally into something because it means they’ve developed a certain way of looking at things. And this is what art is about.
Olivier Mosset, a Swiss artist living in the US, once told me that if you can look at art as art then reality can stay as reality. This means, for example, looking at a red monochrome without thinking about blood or Red October or, respectively, looking at reality without filters like media or propaganda. By developing a way to see art as art, he taught me, you gain a tool to see reality as it is – not as the society wants you to see it.
Finally, how do you see the role of events in the context of exhibitions? Is it important to get people to participate?
The events are one way of getting close to new things, to new experiences, and at best they can help people approach art in different ways. However, I’m not a big fan of Relational Art [a concept by Wahler's predecessor Nicolas Bourriaud referring to a set of artistic practices which take the whole of human relations and their social context as a point of departure], I think art is what it is.