SHARED GOALS: PRESERVING ENDANGERED AMERICAN LEGACIES
By Patrick Moore
From its inception in 1991, the Estate Project for Artists with AIDS was asked the same questions over and over again, "Why should we help these artists? Does their work deserve to survive?" With a planning grant from the Norton Family Foundation and the New York Community Trust and later, with major funding from the Getty Grants Program, the Estate Project decided to ask these questions of organizations serving other groups of artists to see if their answers were congruent with our own. The results of these conversations in New York, Chicago and Los Angeles were not so much surprising as they were inspiring. For what the participants realized was that we are not small and we are not alone; that there are thousands and thousands of artists in this country who will never be known and whose work will likely be lost because cultural preservation is not a national priority in America.
I will use the word "we" often in this report. The "we" of Experience Exchange are groups of artists and their representatives whose cultural legacy is at risk for reasons of health, economics, race, gender, geography or, with surprising frequency, all of the above. The Estate Project’s goal during Experience Exchange was to discover commonality between these groups and to share lessons learned while building bridges.
THE ESTATE PROJECT FOR ARTISTS WITH AIDS
The Estate Project was initiated in 1991 by the Alliance for the Arts as a research effort to examine the cultural impact of AIDS and to provide easily-understood, useful information on estate planning to artists and their representatives. The eventual scope of the Estate Project could not have been predicted during our early research, during which we were extremely cautious about the possibility of actually preserving a large body of work created during the AIDS crisis. Rather, we set about empowering artists to find solutions themselves through providing information that allowed them to be informed participants in their own estate planning.
Ultimately, however, the Estate Project found that it needed to be able to make direct interventions not only when an artist’s work was going to be discarded but also when it was languishing in some dark closet. Our unstated goal was to encourage influential institutions to include work by artists with AIDS in their programming and storage facilities. The questioning that we first encountered had largely disappeared when we decided to focus only on providing artists with information. No one could question that strategy. However, we were met with incredulity when we returned to the same professionals in powerful institutions and suggested that there might be a reason to actually present these artworks to the public. The idea that the American culture machine may have missed an important artist (by artist I refer to creative artists working in all disciplines including literature and the performing arts) or be operating on standards that were affected by commercial concerns was met with panic and hostility.
The Estate Project persevered in our task of preserving large bodies of work, finding homes for the work and presenting it to the public in respected institutions largely because of the enlightened vision of a few funders. These funders, some of the most respected in the nation, were generous in some cases because a particular body of work we focused on touched them in some way. Usually, however, the Estate Project was funded in its preservation and presentation programs because it provided a model.
Because of the unique nature of AIDS and the inequities it has exposed in American life, work around the disease has always promised to be useful to groups other than the HIV-infected. Think, for example, of the benefits that people with cancer have enjoyed in research and drug approval because of ACT UP’s noisy demands that the system be more responsive to the realities of serious illness. Similarly, the sorry state of insurance coverage in this country was brought to the fore when AIDS exposed the profit motives that quickly outstripped compassion in the industry.
So, too, did AIDS show that America faces many challenges in preserving anything but a "greatest hits" version of our culture. With the exception of libraries, powerful institutions are, by their nature, about exclusion. This is not an indictment of such institutions but recognition of their role as sorters of culture into an understandable hierarchy. I believe that the Estate Project’s programs were funded because they provided clues about how to preserve a more complicated view of what actually comprises American culture.
MODEL PROGRAMS
One of the goals of Experience Exchange was simply to share our work with other communities of artists. In particular, we felt that the following programs represented replicable models:
The Virtual Collection
In the early nineties, when I was beginning my research for the Estate Project, digital technology still seemed to be more fantasy than fact. During that era, the CD-ROM roamed the cultural landscape like a digital dinosaur. Only the largest, most progressive institutions were looking to the digital world for preservation tools. In the first Estate Project report, we stated that new technology held the promise of erasing barriers of access and judgment but was still too undeveloped to provide more than a hopeful idea.
In 1995, through David Jensen of the Getty Research Institute, I was introduced to the work of Luna Imaging. From the first moment I saw this technology, I knew that we had finally arrived at the point where technology could become a viable solution to some of our most vexing problems. Using thumbnail images, Luna’s interface allowed users to search through enormous numbers of images with ease by using a searchable database. The interface then allowed users to look at these images in great detail. Each image had been scanned at archival level, meaning that whatever could have been done with the original image (publications, for example) could be done with the scan. Most importantly, it was beautiful. Far from deadening the work, the interface let the images shine.
For the first time, this technology that was being employed by the Getty, the Museum of Modern Art and other similar collections was turned to a group of largely unknown artists. The reality of the visual arts during the AIDS crisis is that many, if not most, paintings, photographs, drawings and sculptures will eventually be lost. However, their images might remain if there were a stable and central repository for them. In this context, preservation of the image is preservation of the artwork.
The most important point to be made about digital imaging technology as a model is that it renders questions of "excellence" and "quality" irrelevant. If it is approximately as cheap to preserve the images of 500 artists as 50, then why not provide assistance to all and let history - by far the more accurate arbiter of worth
make the ultimate decisions.
However, as Jaime Cortez of Galleria de la Raza said in our Los Angeles Experience Exchange meeting, "Technology is not a panacea because in many communities accessibility is an issue." Our artists were no exception to that rule. No other organization that had worked with Luna had wanted their collections to be shown with unlimited access on the Internet. The system had always been deployed on closed systems for staff access or controlled research. We found that making this system work for AOL users on 28.8 modems was not easy. Another two years of work and expense were required to adapt the technology to the needs of our community and still problems persist in terms of access for those with older computers as well as, of course, those without computers.
Economics, therefore, are an important determinant in which art works survive. It seem to me that the "we" represented in Experience Exchange has tended to settle for the cheapest solution in terms of preservation for too long. If non-certified artists are at the greatest risk of being forgotten, then they also have the greatest need for the best technology available in preserving their work. The Estate Project was hardly a rich organization, but it found progressive funders willing to recognize the promise of technology for artists in crisis.
It is also important to note another way in which economics effect preservation at an institutional level. A few leading institutions have created standards for use of digital technology that are not necessarily relevant to preservation in other communities. We were told from the beginning that we should be using 4x5 transparencies to scan when all that existed for our artists were 35mm slides. The shooting of transparencies or direct digital capture would have been prohibitive; stopping the project before it began. We proceeded using slides and the near universal response when our system was completed was that the results were more than satisfactory. The technical standards developed by powerful institutions are not necessarily "best" standards when applied to other communities.
The Virtual Collection now contains nearly 4,000 images available to any Internet user and is being tested as a curatorial tool for mounting exhibitions of the actual artworks.
Partnerships with Major Institutions
The Estate Project has routinely developed partnerships with major institutions to preserve and present the work of artists with AIDS. One might suppose that these institutions bring with them great financial resources and that this would be main reason for approaching them. Our experience is that these institutions are, in reality, often as financially challenged as small organizations. Further, we found that interesting programming packaged in the right way, sometimes paired with a grant from the smaller organization to the larger, allows for work with institutions that might otherwise be inaccessible.
We have never given up on working with large institutions because their involvement brings validation, stability and greater access to the general public. The Estate Project has always dispersed the collections it preserves into the storage of institutions such as The New York Public Library, New York University, University of California/Los Angeles, and the Academy Film Archive. Though we have every reason to believe that the Estate Project will continue its work, we simply cannot make the promise to artists that we can care for their work in perpetuity.
The goal of working with larger institutions is always, of course, dependant upon finding that rare and enlightened staff person in the museum, library or university willing to break out of a narrow view of "important collections." Mimi Bowling, former Curator of Rare Books and Manuscripts at the New York Public Library was such a person and met our work with open arms, including the thousands of AIDS activist videotapes that now reside in the library’s care. John Hanhardt as Senior Curator of Media and Film at the Guggenheim has also been such a person in his openness to presenting work both because of its artistic importance and historical, social relevance.
During the past ten years, I have sometimes encountered an emotional resistance amongst activists to working with large institutions. The idea of art being subsumed or somehow warped by the weight of such an institution is, of course, valid. However, I think careful cultivation of individuals within the institutions can address this distrust.
Film Preservation
The independent film community (not to mention Hollywood) has long been vexed by the inability to preserve its legacy in a systematic way. Granted, the Estate Project faced a smaller task in looking at the work of ten to fifteen experimental filmmakers lost to AIDS. However, the work was preserved using a holistic view of the artists’ camera originals, papers, prints and other working materials. Jon Gartenberg, a noted film curator and preservationist, developed a working methodology that treats these fragile bodies of work with the utmost care, ensuring not only that the artist’s intention is respected but also understood by the audience. This methodology forms a bridge to more powerful institutions such as New York University and the Academy Film Archive who can store the work and presenters such as the Guggenheim or the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art who can bring the work to a large audience.
Targeted preservation efforts focused on small groups of artists can provide a model to an entire community. The development of standards and practices for our artists has led us into natural alliances with other like-minded organizations.
Dance Preservation
From the beginning of the Estate Project, we have shared the dance community’s frustration with the problems inherent in dance preservation. It hardly seemed as if the Estate Project could make a difference by investing in existing preservation systems that were heavily criticized by experts. We again decided to explore the use of digital technology in preserving dance. The artists Paul Kaiser and Shelley Eshkar of Riverbed were our advisors in exploring whether a technology called Motion Capture that had been used to create digital dance works with Merce Cunningham and Bill T. Jones could also be used for preservation purposes.
Because the Estate Project was willing to experiment with new technology, corporate developers were willing to work at greatly reduced rates as the resulting data benefited them as well. (This was equally true with our projects as Luna Imaging.) Motion Capture technology remains a fascinating but expensive new tool for dance preservation, which has now been systematically tested by the Estate Project. While AIDS prompted our work, the results are available to the entire dance community. We are currently searching for an institutional partner to create a permanent facility for use of this technology.
The most satisfying aspect of this experimentation with technology has been the excitement of the participating artists. Far from being a depressing experience, the artists were engaged and saw the preservation of their past work as a bridge to the future.
THE EXPERIENCE EXCHANGE MEETINGS
I believe that the most striking finding of the Experience Exchange meetings was that no centralized structure exists to connect small to mid-size organizations around the issue of cultural preservation. Perhaps this is because the organizations involved already face so many challenges with so few resources. In organizations struggling to keep the doors open, preservation is not an easy addition to their mission. Jaime Cortez spoke of the fragility of our institutions, "This work and organizations are formed in the crucible of opposition politics. These organizations operate in crisis mode with no idea of how to care for archives." Mark Greenfield of the Watts Arts Tower also explained how the setting of the institution sometimes determines the resources available to it regardless of need, "The preservation of the Watts Tower has been going on for 25 years. We have come to believe that it will require constant maintenance. It is the best example of folk art in the world and attracts 20,000 visitors a year. The fact that it is in Watts has affected what resources are available for preservation."
How then can we justify the time, energy and expense of preservation for artists who are not yet, and may never be, stars. As Kinshasha Holman Conwill so eloquently stated in our New York meeting, "Ethnically focused organizations are forced to house excellence, aspirations and history." This is certainly true of most of the organizations represented in Experience Exchange. We define "excellence" differently, factoring in issues of environment and history.
Perhaps this different definition simply means that we consider the artist as important as their art. It is difficult to illustrate the value that artists bring to their community, whether recognized or not. Randall Bourscheidt of the Alliance for the Arts spoke of the challenges in providing such objective measurements, "It is difficult to find cultural vitality indices. The arts are one way to measure a community’s vitality." Lenny Sloan of New Orleans Contemporary Art Center said in the New York meeting, "Most discussions are about the tangible products of art rather than the person and their activism. Artists are change agents." New York City Councilman Philip Reed elaborated this point, "In our communities, we often see plaques saying 'So and So Lived Here.' These are often artists. Artists add value to a community just by being there. 106th Street is now the Arts District of East Harlem. Artists in general add value, pride and a model of aspiration. Particularly in economically stressed communities, arts buildings anchor communities. The murals on 104th Street, for example, have been preserved as historically important."
This, of course, brings us back to the questions originally asked of the Estate Project, "Why should we help these artists? Why are they important?" Many of the liveliest discussions during Experience Exchange sprung from a challenge to the group to redefine "excellence." Again and again, diverse organizations recounted the importance of collecting and preserving work that had not originally been defined as important. Karen Higa of the Japanese American National Museum stated, "These questions relate to the JANM mission because we collect things that the community did not think were important. These objects are now vital sources of information." Similarly Tomas Benitiez of Self-Help Graphic in Los Angeles said, "We are a community center trying to present a historically significant archive and make it academically viable. With all of our collections, the American patrimony is at stake."
Even if the bodies of work examined in Experience Exchange are accepted to have historical importance as well as personal and artistic importance, we still need to further explain the need to preserve them. Suzanne Lacy of the California College of Arts and Crafts offered one explanation when she said, "There can be a political motivation for preserving work. We bring a set of politics to the esthetic forum. When objects are excluded, it distorts history. How does art lead to social activism? Connections between communities are often lost. Radical history is lost.
It seems to me, then, that our motivations for preserving the cultural legacy of our communities are historical, personal, artistic and political. Preservation itself can be defined as activism in this context. Kathy Vargas of A Working Artists Space in San Antonio told us in Los Angeles, "People of Color and activists are bothersome. It would be easier for the mainstream if they did not exist, if they did not have to know of the load we carry. As a model, the Estate Project preserves this load."
We heard again and again in our discussions that artists do not want to be categorized. Yet these very categories can sometimes provide vital information. Again, Kinshasha Holman Conwill provided insight, "Oral histories are key. The feeling of disappearing is common in communities of color. How do we label people? Sam Gilliam is an American artist but he is also an African-American artist. That information would be important in understanding his work." In addition to oral histories, there seem to be successful artistic models that bring together artists who are defined by some factor. Kevin McGruder, formerly of Gay Men of African Descent spoke of the ground-breaking collective, Other Countries, (also the title of the collective’s anthology of poetry) and his organization’s work in caring for the collective's legacy, "Other Countries gets voices out and preserves them. The book also helped solidify the group and the organization. Artists are important role models to black gay men because they show these men as being about something other than AIDS."
From the beginning of our discussions, there was little doubt about the commonality of concern amongst the groups represented. Peter Taub of the Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art stated, "There is not necessarily a shared value set between the groups of artists we are discussing but they all share the same need in terms of preserving their work." While the Estate Project may offer models of response to this need it is also clear that the financial, conceptual and organizational resources needed for a common effort by the participants is beyond the capacity of any single entity. This stresses the need for the funding community to join the preservation discussion.
Strangely, as the funding community has embraced cultural policy, discussions such as Experience Exchange have not been included. In general, it seems that there are few discussions of the pragmatic needs of individual artists in the policy community. Alberta Arthurs, one of the most respected thinkers in cultural policy, stated in our New York meeting, "High-end preservation and heritage efforts must look beyond the 'greatest hits.' This will require better documentation of other communities...Are these questions being included in existing policy studies?" Organizations concerned with preservation of marginalized communities must insist on being included at the cultural policy table.
In summation, an astoundingly diverse group of artists in America was found to have a common concern for the preservation of their cultural legacy. The preservation needs of these artists were exacerbated because of factors of health, economics, race, gender or geography. These needs were further intensified because of a tendency in American culture to value only artists who have been commercially validated. Effective models of response exist, both in the Estate Project and elsewhere. However, these models cannot be replicated systematically without the increased support of the American funding and cultural policy communities.