Translating Methodologies, Adopting Attitudes
When understood as a curatorial laboratory where new ways of practicing are thought of and enacted, trying seems to imply the translation of different approaches and methodologies into the field of the curatorial. However, they all seem to feed into an emphatic and sensitive attitude that does not only critically look at dominant, exclusive, racist, and colonial structures, but actively tries to deconstruct them.
The space designers of TRY during Show and Try Again aimed to translate the motto of the day into a space that invited the audience to participate and to try out things that they within the normally dominating structures of an exhibition, an installation, a talk, or a workshop would not do. Their concept succeeded ñ and one important aspect might have been that they also verbalized their thoughts for their audience, with a warm attitude that invited those present to use the space according to an idea that translated a motto into a spatial arrangement which thus was translated into words to make it even more accessible and meaningful.
Trying to create safe spaces by means of translation within the curatorial field does not only apply to spatial designs, but also to the deconstruction of dominating social and professional structures and the reinvention of protocols. Here, theories and methodologies of other academic and activist fields come into play: The adoption of, for example, decolonized and decolonizing methodologies into the field of the curatorial in itself is an act of translation. Which starting points do apply to the curatorial? Which hegemonies and structures dominate the field? Who are the marginalized, the invisibles, the unheard? And who are we—which position do we take, which position is ascribed to us as those working in the curatorial field? Whom do we present and whom to we claim to represent?
Once we find answers to these questions and succeed in translating critical methodology into the curatorial field and our own work, it will facilitate another act of translation, namely to put critical theory into practice: If we want to create a space for the marginalized, the invisible, the ones deliberately excluded in the global North which is dominated by white, male, heterosexual positions (to name but a few), the translation of a method that disrupts hegemonic structures in order to allow for perspectives hitherto unseen into our field might be the tool to make that happen.
Intrinsically linked to translating decolonized and decolonizing methods into the curatorial is the attitude that accompanies it. An attitude that is apt to dimension the own approach to what it is: a situational approach, rooted in time and place. At the same time, it often reflects the power structures we find in our surroundings. The dimensioning, but also the ‘abstraction’ of ourselves from the individual level to a structural one requires an act of translation as well: Translating our own presuppositions and assumptions, our social, cultural, educational ‘upbringing’ into words that illustrate our positionality as well as the positions we take. Where do we locate ourselves? Where are we actually located when we translate ourselves in terms of gender, ethnicity, sexuality etc. into the social and political structures we are living in?
Translation is a means to find answers to these questions—for ourselves and the audiences we are potentially addressing.
Translating into dominant structures
Repetition ñ and translation is one mode of repetition ñ always implies a reference to the ìoriginalì, whether it is mentioned or not. It has the potential to change the original in a way that rips it of its dominating structures. It also has the potential to strengthen the very same structures by translating narratives, stories, and perspectives into it without questioning the normative expectations, categories and values that form these dominating structures. The question that arises thus for the curatorial is whether it can also be sufficient to show what was unseen before by telling the hitherto unheard story along the lines of widely accepting dominating narratives. Or whether the curatorial should ideally aim at dismantling and deconstructing hegemonies by telling stories and facilitating perspectives in a way that consciously questions dominant structures.
To become more concrete: What happens if women's (or any other minorities') lives are translated into the normative frame of a successful, outstanding, artistic life without questioning the categories which we use to measure success, being outstanding, and art? These categories were and still are mostly shaped by men ñ in the European case by white men ñ and we use them to judge whether a life can be regarded as a role model for others. By translating women's lives into these categories we on the one hand show that women were present in male dominated institutions and environments, we shed light on their influence upon their time and contemporaries, we open up possibilities to reflect upon their legacy, and we point to structures that up until now prevent a social equity between women and men. We tell their lives in a way accessible and legible for most audiences, and thus open a space for the discussion of a social issue that is relevant and urgent in our times: the gender bias.
But by the same act of translating their lives into known and accepted narratives, we miss out on questioning the categories and values that are associated with these narratives. What is actually worth telling? What about all the women that don't fit general expectations, that did not have the opportunities and the social, educational, and mostly also economic capital that ìsuccessfulî women had? They remain marginalized, unseen and unheard of. The stories we tell still remain male-dominated stories; not in terms of the protagonists (although, on a side-note, most of these women were only able to ìsucceedî because they had a male gate-opener), but in terms of categories and assessments.
What does that imply for the act of translation within the curatorial field? Translating marginalized groups and their ways of life into narratives that are known and accepted helps to show that these persons actually exist, as individuals and as groups, that they lead ìnormalî and at times successful lives. It confronts a general audience with realities that were ignored, neglected or not known. It offers room for a critique of dominant structures without deconstructing them. This strategy might be apt for reaching the biggest audience possible because it does not question the dominant world view and does not confront individuals with the role they might have in upholding discriminatory and marginalizing structures. But out of its self-understanding as a critical discipline, the curatorial should not stop there. It should look for those narratives and perspectives that are formed along other concepts of success, mastership, art, and bring them to light. It should, in the end, focus on the diversity and polyphony of human existence regardless of categories and labels used to classify them, and convey them to its audiences.
The Limits of Translation
Oftentimes, translation is regarded as a means to foster understanding by translating from one language into another or by translating rituals, norms, and expectations into other forms of protocols and social interactions that are understood at a given place. Translation is also regarded as a tool to apply theories, methods, and techniques that are foreign to the own working field but nevertheless seem to be beneficial to use. But where and why are the limits of translation, if there are any?
Looking at the translation of spatial practices, several aspects come into mind: Obviously, a spatial practice is linked to the space it takes place in. But it is also shaped by the structures that surround it, by the social norms that are enacted within it as well as by the habitus of people who know how to behave in the performance of that particular spatial practice. The practice is also connected to and filled by the associations that people might have with regard to the given space. Thus, when re-creating the space of and for a certain practice in another setting, with other people, the limits of translation show themselves: Social norms can be explained, but can they be translated and thus enacted on the spot? Local structures that dominate and shape social interaction prevail over those that originally formed the spatial practice. Not to speak of feelings, emotions, and the attitude to life that is linked to most practices and derives from factors making up the original space of the practice: sounds, noises, smells, food, the climate as well social, political, and economic living conditions. All of this is not translatable.
What does this imply? The limits of translation remind us that local spatial practices are not only local because they are practiced at a particular place, but because they are intrinsically tied to the people, the norms and structures as well as to the habitus of a given place. The relational and situational character of any practice can become obvious through its translational limits. It does not necessarily become obvious as it also depends on the power and hegemonic possibilities of those wanting to translate a practice of their own. Interestingly enough, this shows itself also in how practices of different groups are described: While practices of white actors are mostly described (by themselves and others) and perceived of as universal, practices of non-white actors are often described (by themselves and others) and perceived of as local. This reflects less a valid classification of the local/regional/global character of practices than a valid assessment of where most of the power in postcolonial times is located and where decolonization still has urgency.
What does this entail for the curatorial? We have to take the limits of translation into account when we transfer practices from one locality to the other. We also have to become aware of the fact that our own practices are not only linked to space, but also to place. They are as relational and locally bounded as any other practices. The limits of translation help us to dimensionize ourselves and our work, while at the same time they invite us to think about how we could translate the most important parts of our work into any given context ñ not as a universal model, but rather to make us, our thoughts and work accessible for audiences and discourses that are new to us.