Fool's
Paradise
Lear:
Dost thou call me fool, boy?
Fool: All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou wast
born with.
William Shakespeare, King Lear, I, iv, 163-195
Again
and again, Milan Kunc picture paradise in everyday visual
language. But there is always something amiss in it, some
jarring note, suggesting that it has a morbid underside. Thus
the couple in Club Med (1992) drive a car with a death's
head. Club Med is the capitalist paradise of petit
bourgeois pleasures of leisure time activities once reserved
for the upper classes (golfing, tennis, and presumably
extramarital sex) now made available to all, at a reduced rate.
The brightness of the scene is comprom ised by the grim-faced
blackness of the car, which also suggests the alienation between
the couple, who stand on opposite sides of it. It is as though
their relationship, for all the ostensible fun it involves, is a
living death, like the car.
In Penetration of the Dialectic (Young East European Lovers
in the Caribbean for the First Time) (1992), the young
lovers still carry the hammer (his) and sickle (hers) in their
heads, having traded their Communist paradise for a Caribbean
paradise a real material paradise, where red is not the
colour of the failed social revolution but of the successful
sexual revolution (of passion rather than social planning).
However idyllic their embrace, they are secretly linked by
barbed wire, not love. Prisoners of passion indeed! They are
also tempted by the American Express Card proffered by a crab,
Kunc's version of the snake in paradise. (Both the card and the
crab are the green colour of American money.) The card is no
doubt on their minds because they made the trip to paradise on
credit: Eastern Europe being economicaliy bankrupt as well as a
social lie, who will pay the price for the holiday when it comes
due in the socialist future?
Whether
it is a capitalist Club Med or a Communist Caribbean, there is
trouble in Milan Kunc's paradise. Indeed, the point of his art
is to show that the wish to be in paradise, to make a paradise
of society, is ultimately foolish and destructive of life: a
social paradise, whatever its party line and however modern ist
form, is a fool's paradise. Kunc's art demonstrates that the
dream of utopia, which professes to make life like poetry as
Marx wrote, in his utopia we'll work in the morning, write
poetry in the afternoon, and read it to each other in the
evening in fact always betrays life by turning it into dull
prose, that is, makes it seem banal, if not finally pointless.
Indeed, the language of utopia the place where the dream of
utopia is most explicit is the banal lang uage of kitsch,
that paradise of cliches (the fool's gold of thought) that
invites us to enter a fool's parad ise of fantasy. Milan Kunc
uses this language to represent social paradise, as though to
give it the lie from the start. But he uses kitsch against
itself, manipulating visual cliches to suggest, however broadly
and subliminally, the vitality of life that is the alternative
to an insidiously life-sapping social paradise. His is a life-affirming
art that on the surface represents the living death of modern
social reality, proclaiming at every turn the big lie of its
paradisiac ideality.
Milan
Kunc's art, then, confronts us on two levels. On the one, it
mocks the universal language of kitsch by using it in an absurd
way, thus undermining the paradise of facile understanding it
presents itself as. On the other, he mocks the idea of social
paradise by representing it as a contradiction in terms, that is,
he shows that it is all too human, suggesting that where there
is human society there can be no paradise. Clearly, the
construction of absurdity, the creation of a sense of madness
the method of radical, unresolvable contradiction is the
bread and butter of his art. This throws a monkey wrench into
the methodical character of kitsch representation and into the
methodical character of life in the social paradise.
Milan
Kunc's art, then, confronts us on two levels. On the one, it
mocks the universal language of kitsch by using it in an absurd
way, thus undermining the paradise of facile understanding it
presents itself as. On the other, he mocks the idea of social
paradise by representing it as a contradiction in terms, that is,
he shows that it is all too human, suggesting that where there
is human society there can be no paradise. Clearly, the
construction of absurdity, the creation of a sense of madness
the method of radical, unresolvable contradiction is the
bread and butter of his art. This throws a monkey wrench into
the methodical character of kitsch representation and into the
methodical character of life in the social paradise. The
method of kitsch, which offers itself as the language of
sanity, is in fact to create and indoctrinate everyman with
utopian illusions about his life, that is, standardized
descriptions of it (implicitly interpretations of its meaning),
which imply that it is comfortably comprehensible and thus under
complete control. The 'method' in the wish to live in a social
utopia presumably it is sane to wish to do so is not
dissimilar: it is to want to live in a world in which everything
is rationally ordered and controlled. But in practice this means
that everything is standardized into kitsch form, down to the
climate of opinion, which is completely regulated. Both kitsch
and utopia and utopia is a kitschy place and kitsch is a
kind of utopia, as Kunc implies lack criticality, indeed,
deny the need for it, since in them everything is understood,
everyone's wish is instantly granted, and life is completely
organized and sane-itized down to the least detail. Kitsch and
social paradise, then, necessarily converge: the completely
clear, self-evident language of kitsch is implicitly the
language that will be used in social paradise, for kitsch can
supposedly be understood intuitively by everyone; and to live in
and in an emotional paradise where one's feelings and thoughts
are completely clear to oneself and to everyone else.
Milan
Kunc in effect satirizes the totalitarian management methods
implicit in kitsch style and would-be utopian society by using
the former to represent the latter. This makes both seem like
bad jokes. Kunc's pictures are deliberately disrupted and 'foolish'
in their construction, suggesting the foolishness of and
ruptures in the world they mean to embarrass into self-awareness.
His art is a kind of praise of folly, and like Erasmus of
Rotterdam he takes a certain humorous attitude to the world's
folly the madness in which it contradicts itself to the
point of literally being at war with and finally destroying
itself which gives him a certain integrity and distance from
it while carefully describing its lack of integrity. Milan Kunc
wears a fool cap, as it were his famous artificial naivet,
emulating that of kitsch, which is also secretly 'knowing' and
manipulative (but Kunc's naivet also bespeaks a certain
romantic attitude to life, a wonderous appreciation of its
mystery) in order to be free to tell modern society the
unhappy truth about itself.
In
general, Milan Kunc plays one kitsch representation off against
another, leaving us in doubt as to which tells the social truth.
But the very play of opposites he sets in motion makes it clear
that there is no one truth, social or otherwise unless it be
that of the 'truthfulness' of the stereotyped form in which all
truths are ultimately represented. That is, the kitsch form in
which every concept finds its vulgar death, achieving popuiarity
with its dying gasp, in the process losing ist subtlety never to
recover it. Milan Kunc puts us in a double bind in a
contradiction from which there is no dialectical way out. This
contradiction is typically presented in the simplistic, mediocre,
ingratiating, fabricated, lumpen language of kitsch, which makes
the contradiction itself seem peculiarly banal, fraudulent, and
manufactured, and as such believable only by the naive and
gullible. But Kunc contradicts kitsch itself, in that he uses it,
a language supposedly free of ambiguity, to create ambiguity.
Kunc ties meanings in knots that are impossible to untie, making
kitsch, which is supposed to be easy to use and understand,
suddenly seem very 'difficult'.
This
is a way of seeing through kitsch to the life it represents, and
thus of using it to show the critical character of life. Kitsch
was invented by modern historical necessity as a common language
and outlook that would preclude criticality and conflict. It
would satisfy the potentially explosive masses with mass-produced
fantasies. It would weld the world into a uniform, uncritical
mass, a weight all the easier to move by the same kitsch,
now in ist role of manipulative lever rather than 'consolidator'
of the masses because it was dead. But Kunc uses kitsch
critically to create an uncommon outlook on life, showing it to
be full of conflict. This is what makes it exciting, however
troublesome it may be. He uses a popular style to say unpopular,
debunking things.
Thus,
in Always (1991) a woman's face is neatly split into
bright young and dark old halves. In the former her skin is
wrinkle-free and her hair blonde, and a star twinkles in her
blue eye. In the latter her skin is wrinkled, her hair has
become gray, she has a bit of a moustache, and a death's-head
glitters it is as white as the star in her eye. She hasn't
changed her make-up, apart from her eyebrow, which has become
black instead of brown. Each half is a kitsch cliche. Taken
together, they suggest the absurdity of society's sense of woman,
and no doubt of herself, insofar as she conforms to society's
idea of what she is supposed to look like. The young side is
fantasy, the old side is presumably reality, yet both are
presented in the same banal, standardized terms, suggesting
society's effort to control the truth. Kunc makes the difference
between being young and old transparently clear, but the
transparency is borrowed from society, suggesting that it is
part of a big lie suggesting that to believe in the social
rendering of the difference is to be a fool, for the kitsch
representation of it is not the answer to the unresolvable
existential problem of growing old, but rather an exploitation
of it. (One wonders if there isn't an oblique comment on the
blue-eyed, blonde-haired, ideal woman. Does the fact that she is
intact despite her split into old and young parts indicate that
she remains the Aryan ideal of German society despite the
passage of years?)
Similarly,
in Contemporary Monument (1992) the medieval gold
background is as much of a clichι standard procedure as
the representations of the leprechaun, the flowers, the
television set, camcorder, and baby's dummy. It is the way Kunc
combines them that makes the picture an intriguing contradiction.
Thus, Kunc sets up an opposition between fantasy and reality, by
putting the dummy in the leprechaun's mouth, making it into a
baby, and juxtaposing it a rare, mythical creature who can
grant wishes, which is why it symbolizes good luck with a
commonplace television set, which in its own way also grants
wishes, and epitomizes modern kitsch mentality as well as modern
technology at its most accessible. But which represents
enchanting fantasy, which disenchanting reality? The kitschy
leprechaun looks more real than the television set, but most of
the programs on it perhaps all of them, including the news
broadcasts are also kitschified fantasies, promising, like
the leprechaun, a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and the
general fulfilment of one's wishes. Kitsch toys with our wish to
believe, our gullibility, giving us a fantasy that seems
believable, real, but in fact obscuring reality by simplifying
it, 'resolving' it. (There seems to be a personal dimension to
this picture, which probably shows Kunc's response to the birth
of his son, whom he regards as lucky little elf a symbol of
the mystery and poetry of life whose growth must be recorded
and who will grow up in a television society.)
Kitsch,
through its unashamed banality, reveals that modern life is no
longer as marvellous and poetic as Baudelaire once thought it
was, but Milan Kunc makes marvellous poetry out of it. Kitsch is
an ultra-prosaic, banal language, suggesting that modern
society, which produced it, means to kill the mystery of life,
or show that there is nothing mysterious and enchanting about it,
because it has been reduced to a cliche by modern understanding
and rational management. It is presumably sane to be
disenchanted about life. The idea that there is a mystery to
life is a superstition, and the modern world seems to have put
superstition behind it.
But
Kunc's art strongly suggests there is a mystery to life,
something irrational that cannot be managed, something that it
makes sense to be superstitious about, because it always appears
as an omen of vitality: and that is the mystery of sex. Kunc's
art is permeated with enchanting erotic imagery, whether it be
in the bizarre form of his Easy Rider motorbike series,
1992, or in the innumerable images of women that fill his work.
The most unwittingly heroic aspect of Kunc's art is perhaps his
ability to make sex still seem mysterious in a society that has
kitschified it to the point of apparent speciousness, suggesting
how disillusioned by it modern society really is and to
achieve this re-enchantment of the erotic by the manipulation of
the kitsch representation of it. It is ultimately about the
redeeming power of woman's sexuality, as the one true source of
vitality and pieasure in a society that betrays its members with
its fakeness and destructiveness.
Again
and again woman appears in Kunc's art, as a mocking, seductive
presence, as in the Dionysian diptych Ladies And... and ...
And Gentlemen, both 1992. In a similar diptych of the same
year, Landscape Between Siena and Florence and After
Siena, the suggestiveness of the landscape in the first work
is 'realized' in the breasts of the woman that form the second
landscape. The landscape, which is a familiar Kunc composition
of fantasy (castle) and (economic) reality is dominated by these
overarching, 'fantastic' breasts, on which clouds in the form of
poodles happily play. There are many visual puns in these works,
and in Kunc's images in general, which it is not possible to go
into in detail here. (The tunnel of course, is the woman's
vagina. It symbolically appears in other images, for example, an
untitled 1986 work and Autumn [1986-1987]. In both the
floral pattern is emblematic of woman a force of nature, as
it were.)
The
irrational body of woman is the alternative to the 'rational'
dismemberment of the body in war and ist demythologization
accomplished by the anatomical reduction of it to a number of
physical parts, which are rationally displayed in so many Kunc's
pictures, often set in a female landscape, as though in contrast
to their raw 'rational' look. In general, image after image
shows Milan Kunc's obsession with woman, in disguised or
undisguised form. (One of my favourites is Miracle
[1990], in which an udder in the sky drips milk, forming a path
on the earth.) Even Kunc's early Communist-proletariat works
show males and females erotically involved with one another,
despite being in uniform. In the last analysis, the Club Med
and Penetration of the Dialectic (mentioned above) are
about the power of eros that binds man and woman, not about
ideology or rather about the power of sex to undermine
ideology, to show it to be beside the human point. In the end,
we all make greater fools of ourselves when we fall in love,
than when we commit ourselves to an ideology.
Thus
Milan Kunc's works, while a comic critique of ideology, suggest
that we return to the naivetι of love, which is part of
their 'divine comedy'. They remind us that we are creatures of
natural instinct as well as citizens ready to ruin our lives,
even die for an ideology. In reminding us of this basic fact of
life, Kunc's pictures show they are statements of conscience in
more ways that one. And in using the pseudo-naive mode of kitsch
to express his conscience, Kunc shows that he has the profound
conscience of a clown, indeed, shows that conscience has become
a clown. That is, it has to put on a clown's face to have any
kind of effect. Only the fool could make Lear aware of his folly.
Also, the clown's funny face suggests that joie de vivre,
in whatever distorted form, is still possible, however banal and
insane society is. Indeed, the good humour of joie de vivre
always seems foolish and out-of-place, yet is always necessary,
in a sick world that is more absurd than it.
Milan Kunc shows us such a world, in all its necrophiliac folly.
Many of his images deal explicitly with death, and all
implicitly deal with the death of the imagination in kitsch. At
the same time he shows us the 'foolish' vital alternative to it
(which includes making good imaginative use of kitsch).
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