Irwin/NSK in Glasgow: April 1997
This April NSK members carried out two major projects in Scotland's second city and aspirant cultural capital Glasgow. Irwin mounted
their "Interior of the Planit" exhibition which premiered in Budapest in 1996 a year ago and Irwin members together with Peter Mlakar of the Department of Pure and Applied Philosophy took part in the "Virtual World Orchestra" club-art event from 4th-6th April. Glasgow is a blighted post-industrial city where the new bars and galleries of the last decade coexist uneasily with some of the most severe urban poverty in the "united kingdom". So before we consider the monumental "Interior of the Planit" and the demands it places upon its audience the question of its location presents itself. The Tramway Arts Centre is a cultural outpost in a
de-industrialized, seemingly almost depopulated zone of the city. The centre is one of the few in Europe comfortably able to accommodate the project's dimensions. It is an empty tram depot in an empty locale. Only its size and the few remaining tracks sets into its floor behind the glossy facade speak of its past. Once a site of strategic spatial communication it has become severed from the city it once connected by the march of time and technology and the effects of the collapse of the industrial economy it represented are perhaps more visible on this cityscape than any other in Britain. Before the encounter with the exhibition the audience will have traversed a stunningly empty urban landscape framed by bleak hills on the horizon. Some streets are filled only by the emptiness of abandoned but systematically stripped warehouses and factories. The occasional fortified pubs and dingy shops seem like interlopers and the Tramway appears to be the only "active" building in the street upon which it stands. For a former transport hub it is now strangely remote from the city's main lines of communication. The Tramway cannot receive many casual visitors. To visit it signifies the investment of a certain effort; the negotiation of the city's still, void spaces.
Judging from the catalogue the subdued monumentality
of Budapest's Ludwig Museum, the exhibition's previous host site seems to have
presented a smooth visual analogue to Irwin's constructions. The Tramway cannot
provide such sympathy. Like the surrounding streets it is mute and bare,
passively reflecting and stark. Though not (quite) spectacularly large the grey
empty space seems to compress the objects within it yet simultaneously
emphasize their inscription in it. The two Irwin constructions seem almost
pressed into place by the surrounding void. However the visitor is not free to
roam at will: this is a space to be traversed in the strictly limited terms
laid down by Irwin. The first demand made upon the visitor is that they ignore
the space around them and the instinct to mill around freely. Instead they must
allow themselves to be transported not simply by the art but to and around it,
to be driven in a strictly delineated figure of eight around the two
constructions. The channelling and restriction of audience movements again
emerges as a characteristic NSK technique previously seen most clearly in Red
Pilot's "Fiat" and GSSN's "Marija Nablocka". Beyond the
mere recapitulation of control mechanisms such audience guidance promotes if
not empathy then at least a (sub)conscious identification with such
restrictions as a given aspect of the submission to culture and an analogue of
the restrictions upon creative individuality NSK members voluntarily assume.
The agent of this guidance is a specially constructed
Irwin vehicle ("Left, Right, Up, Down") which unsurprisingly
functions as an artefact in its own right and not simply as the
"servant" of the other components. It is an aesthetic agent in the
form of a generic industrial trolley adapted to Irwin's needs. It has space for
four visitor-passengers and is equipped with a TV/video unit. Mounted to the
left of the video housing is one of the earliest Irwin pieces "Malevich
Between Two Wars" and at its rear an NSK logo superimposed on a Scottish
flag both of which “brand” the vehicle and make it less generic. Moving into
its ordered yet non-hiearchical circuit the on board video prepares the
visitors conceptually for their journey to the interior. Both vehicle and
concepts move with unexpected speed yet not so smoothly as to let the audience
adjust completely. In the course of its parodic orbits through the abandoned
tram depot the vehicle seems to flirt with the gravitational pull of its sister
objects yet never finally approaches them. Once the didactic video
interpretations (the main one from Igor Zabel) are finished the vehicle returns
to its exact start point; the visitors' final approach must be made under their
own impetus and should again follow a certain choreography, starting with
"The Interior of the Planit", the smaller of the two constructions.
The structural designs are the latest and certainly not the last NSK
retroquotations of a Malevich concept, in this case of his pure architectural forms,
"Planits". The thick lead-lined walls of “The Interior of the Planit”
press closely upon the narrow, dimly lit interior. In the left corner by the
entrance the 1993 Marina Grzinic/Aina Smid video “Transcentrala” plays in
competition with the Laibach track emanating from the object at the end of the
room, the model of the NSK state. On the left wall hangs the
"Transcentrala Icon", a new installation piece combining four small
landscapses in each corner orbited by a steadily-rotating central spur which
recalls other recent Irwin mobile works. On the opposite wall the five members
look down from Andres Serrrano's group portrait "Mystery of the Black
Square" in which their upper lips are obscured by variably sized black
squares that also resemble Hitler moustaches. The room already presents a dense
assemblage of imagery yet the formal focus of the room is the wooden model of
the NSK state on the centre table. This is a dematerialization of the
pre-existing cyberspace architecture familiar to visitors of the NSK website
who will already have wandered its corridors. A long irregular corridor housing
various NSK departments such as the confessional leads to the central cupola.
The open "dome" of the structure (labelled the "Noordung
Auditorium") has its origin in the scenography of the 1995 Noordung
children's performance. The arrangement of paintings upon the walls below
provided echoes the actual arrangement within "The Heart of
Transcentrala". Thus the construction incorporates into its fabric a series
of NSK motifs while the design as a whole refers back to the website
architecture and forward to its eventual possible realization as a full-scale
structure. Set into the floor of the structure is a new motif, the Laibach
"State Generator" in the form of an active speaker cone playing the
soundtrack to "Krst" and introducing a final set of associations with
previous works. Standing at the back of the room looking through the structure
and down the approach corridor out into the light beyond the dense visual field
coalesces yet still resists further systematization, leaving at the heart of
the NSK (model) state some of its constitutive qualities; density, ambiguity
and a very specific spatiality.
Irwin: A Model of The NSK State, 1996. (Author’s Photograph.) The speaker cone visible at the base of the structure is
labelled the “Laibach State Generator”.
And the light is ours
From the leaden gloom visitors emerge into the shadow
cast by the vast wooden hulk that is the exterior of "The Heart of
Transcentrala". The interplay of light and space between the two
structures, whether planned or otherwise, appears, perhaps more so in
recollection, as a kind of secreted spatial dialectics. Even without the gloomy
visual alchemy of the Tramway space Irwin can rely on the spatial enlargement
that will take place when the objects later re(tro)place themselves in the
visitor's memory. The Transcentrala structure occupies a precise point between
impermanence and monumentality, the rough freshness of the unpainted wood exterior
offset by its scale. A grand entrance to the structure seems (to have been
thought) superfluous and the simple fact of ascent into such a structure is
impressive in itself. The interior is warmly lit and enveloping but, especially
for Irwin newcomers, this accentuates rather than dilutes the initial element
of confrontation. Before turning to scan the room fully the visitors have
already been confronted by the mass of the first wall, filled like the others
by dozens of works and reflecting those of the other walls and the traumas and
paradoxes inherent within them. The four mirrored walls double and redouble the
mass of assembled works creating a dense totality whilst simultaneously
respecting the specificity of each piece.
Irwin: “The Heart of Transcentrala”,
Glasgow 1997.
Much has already been written on the works displayed
here but this is a rare chance to assess the works' collective interconnections
across the entire span of Irwin's career. To scan the reflective steel walls
and the works is to scan the history of Irwin and that of NSK expressed in
Irwin's role as NSK chroniclers. Numerous key themes and motifs are present
here either individually or singly; "Opus Dei", "Erste
Bombardierung", "Laibach Woman", "Red Districts",
"The Cup of Coffee", "Home and World". From the earliest to
the most recent works this is one of the largest and chronologically most
comprehensive gatherings of Irwin's work so far. However while documentary it
is not retrospective and is an active rather than a passive project. The heavy,
dense works are in flux. From Budapest to Glasgow and beyond the composition of
the room can be varied according to need or demand. Rather than colonizing and
spreading into an exhibition space the works here have occupied a space only to
retreat into a close proximity at the hidden heart of the space, maintaining an
active, ongoing status that resists premature codification. Transcentrala is
both an arsenal and a generator, an accumulation of critical mass for already
familiar yet still unvizualizable stages of development hinted at in "The
Interior of The Planit". Through procedures based on symbolic recurrence
and mirroring the project again refers to the Noordung children's performance,
echoing its role of symbolic familiarization and education.
Ultimately what emerges most strongly from
Transcentrala are questions of deployment. One of the project's subtexts is its
logistics, which here begin to form the outlines of a nascent motif within the
NSK state “Gesamtkunstwerk” (total work of art). In the light of the totality
of the works from 1984-7 and the scale of their contextualization here the
project is recoded as a demonstration of NSK's state and creative powers and
their interface. The local magazine "The List" talks of Irwin as
"one of Europe's last remaining arts collectives" as though the
project represented the manifestation of a dying paradigm and not of new
developments. In fact NSK/Irwin are continuing to develop their place in the
vanguard of Europe's state-influenced cultural powerful enough to deploy such
resources and material halfway across Europe to create a de facto expo for the
new state.

Detail from “The Heart of Transcentrala”. Note the work in the background incorporating a
Tito portrait.
Virtual World States.
It is this emergent "motif", the
demonstration of state-scale resources within a cultural context that links the
exhibition to the other NSK presence in Glasgow. Located in another
de-contextualized urban space, this time near the heart of the city the
"Virtual World Orchestra" takes place in the building still known as
the Old Fruitmarket. For the event the site is reconfigured into an online
art/club space where the dancefloor is a pavement. The first sight greeting the
predominantly young visitors to the event was a raised platform at the centre
of the floor functioning for three nights as the first NSK passport office to
operate on Scottish (or British) territory. Against the backdrop of a large
Scottish flag with the NSK logo at its centre three Irwin members assimilate
curious and committed Scots into the new state and its iconography. Whilst they
process applications to a post-ambient soundtrack ranging through Gorecki, Test
Department, Clock DVA and others, NSK philosopher Peter Mlakar works in a side alcove
reconfigured as a confessional. Here he receives the hopes, fears and
confessions of visitors and offers absolution. (The VWO website had previously
asked its visitors for similar "confessions" and selections from
these appeared on the event literature and were projected direct from the net
onto the venue's screens. In the next booth blood and hair samples are taken
from volunteers and live video footage of all this activity is projected onto
the screens intercut with computer graphics and internet feeds. As at the
Tramway demands are made of the audience; they have to invest some effort for
their "cultural fix", to submit to photography, filming,
form-filling, examination, questioning. Within the context of these events
interactivity does not mean placing the event at the mercy of the visitors but
the opposite. Their contributions are guided and channelled to prevent them
usurping or distorting the inherent form of the event as can often be the case
yet the audience still appreciates the chance to participate.
After an hour or more Irwin have fulfilled their role.
The passport office and the alcoves are cleared and the event shifts to more
traditional performance mode as the Australian Stelarc submits his frame to the
cybernetic commands of a remote audience. His hints at the negative potential
of the net are echoed by American poetess Dael Orlandersmith railing against
the impersonality of web-based communication. However before the art paradigm
is overtaken by that of the club and live music (ex Test Dept Dr. Rapaniki and
the Sativa Drummers) the audience face a final demand. No sooner has Stelarc
stood down than the strains of Laibach's "The Great Seal" emerge and
Peter Mlakar enters on an industrial hoist platform to deliver an address. Once
extended the platform towers above the floor and is draped with an NSK banner,
which had been incongruously borne in by two T-shirted attendants following the
platform. With no pause and loud amplification the invocation "People of
Scotland!" blares out. As usual the discourse makes no concession to the
informality of the setting or the audience, the majority of whom are witnessing
their first NSK manifestation. The text (again projected onto the screens) is
concerned with the defeat of evil, a persistent NSK philosophical concern. The
spectacle compels attention and receives an active response as perhaps the most
direct and energizing of the event's "performances". As the address
ends music becomes the dominant form yet whether because of inherent weakness
or simply in comparison with the earlier activity the second half of the event
fails to make any great impression. The frequent banality of the late nineties
club regime is restored yet not without demands having been made upon its
audience and their expectations (that a night's clubbing will not normally
necessitate an encounter with the Slovene retrogarde) having been confounded.
The Fruitmarket and the Tramway have now reverted to
their normal post-industrial, pre-millenial status as blank cultural spaces to
be moulded and disrupted by local and visiting artists, whose cultural efforts
increasingly parallel the wider Scottish attempts to find a state context
within which they can continue to develop. In this light it may be significant
that a few of the two sites' recent visitors now carry new passports and will
need to assimilate the emergence of a new absence within their city, that of
something “other” which Glasgow briefly made its own and must now attempt to
respond to.
Text and Photographs, Alexei Monroe, 1997.
For more info: schrankmeister@hotmail.com
Irwin
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