COURAGE

Підключення Колекцій

After the political police and the party leadership of the university encroached on the activities of the Közgáz-klub members, and mainly the organizing of the ‘Meeting of Students from Universities and Colleges in Budapest’ (Budapesti Egyetemisták és Főiskolások Találkozója –  BEFŐT), the bulletin Klub Közlöny was restricted as well. On the 29th of April 1981, the editor gave a response to the dissatisfied readers, who were disappointed because the newspaper had become “gray and trite.” The author responded that until recently, the bulletin dealt with the thwarting of university life, students’ real problems, and finally, they did not avoid the political issues either. At the meeting of the university committee, the university leaders stated that the Klub Közlöny was no longer allowed to publish articles that required journalistic activity. They condescendingly informed the editorial office that they could proceed in their activity, but only in this limited way.

After the success of “Solidarity” in 1980 a need for documenting its activity occurred. However, getting necessary equipment in socialist Poland was impossible. Luckily, help came from abroad, when the International Trade Union Confederation from Brussels donated to the newly established “Solidarity”, for its first congress, a video camera SONY U-matic HB, montage set and a hundred of cassettes. Thanks to the donation, the “Solidarity” News Agency [Biuro Informacyjno-Prasowe Solidarność] was extended with a Television Agency of “Solidarity”, run by Marian Terlecki. The first cameraman to use this equipment was Krzysztof Kalukin. At first independent “Solidarity” filmmakers documented the union’s most important events: public appearances of its leaders and meetings of its authorities. Soon the first documentaries were produced (the first was “Candidate” [“Kandydat”] by Marian Terlecki about Lech Walesa’s appointment as a leader). For Polish film makers the camera was an occasion to use the newest technology, unavailable in the country (especially for the opposition).

For the 60th anniversary of the foundation of the Romanian Communist Party, an exhibition was organized by the county’s artists. Imre Baász prepared a complex work for the occasion consisting of two parts: a performance and an installation. He designed the invitation of the exhibition in the form of a leaflet and spread it all over the town the night before the opening. Baász and his friends were soon caught by a policeman, who asked for backup and reported at headquarters that he had found people spreading manifestos in the street. They were immediately taken to the police and interrogated. The action was suspicious, but the leaflets had no subversive, hidden message. Moreover, as became clear in the course of the interrogation, they had been approved by the county’s party secretary.

This action, and especially the fact that it was carried out under the cover of darkness, upset the townspeople and the authorities as well, who tried to collect the leaflets in bags. The police wanted to gather all the copies to be able to identify and label the dissident content, but they found none, because there was nothing against the regime in the text or the graphic design. Baász feared that he might not get away with this joke, but the next day the authorities apologized for having brought him in the night before. This was a classic example of when actions really do speak louder than words, and the act was also an example of the leading idea that contemporary art is more about finding a method than it is about finding an aesthetic form. Baász agreed with the primacy of the method and implementation, and his fixed aim was to address the public via action.

The second part of the work was an installation consisting of six shirts stained with blood and hung on a rack. On the floor and around them there were two types of leaflets: old ones from the interwar period calling for fight against the government and the new ones, prepared by Baász.  Comparing the two, one notices that, although the graphic structure is different, Baász kept the leading phrase of the interwar leaflet, which said “read it and pass it on.” The six white shirts symbolized moral purity, stained with the blood of the victims. In the context of the 1980s, however, the white shirt was connected more to the members of the party and the secret police. From this perspective, the installation symbolized the unethical and inhuman rule of the one-party state.

In 1981, Imre Baász managed to organize an international contemporary art festival showing European values and styles in communist Romania. His aims and orientations were purely apolitical: he wanted to shake up the Romanian and Transylvanian Hungarian art world, to dust off the old formal solutions, and to introduce progressive thinking into the region. Medium I and Medium II, under the political circumstances, both served as musters of possibilities. The first exhibition became a landmark, a point of orientation. There was nothing provincial in the local art show. It celebrated progressive, West European artforms.

However, a distinction should be drawn between the first (1981) and the second Medium (1991), because while the first was still held under communist rule, attracting the attention of the authorities, the second one enjoyed almost unlimited freedom of expression and also featured some of the important progressive performance artists of the international platform.