arthur c.
danto
essays
the wake
of art
criticism, philosophy,
and the ends of taste
selected and with
critical introduction
gregg
horowitz
tom
huhn
Australia + Canada * China - France * Germany * India + Japan « Luxembourg ARTShans haacke and 6
the industry of art
arthur c. danto
‘THE ARTIST HANS HAACKE ACHIEVED A
qualified martyrdom in an era generally
supposed to have been one of total artis-
tic permissiveness, at the hands of an
institution hardly calculated to confer
such status on an avant-garde artist seeking to press back the limits of art. Those
inauspicious circumstances notwithstanding, an exhibition of Haacke’s work
was canceled, on the grounds of artistic impropriety, six weeks before it was to
have opened, in 1971, at the Guggenheim Museum in New York City. It was
annulled by Thomas Messer, then as now director of the Guggenheim, who also
discharged the curator, Edward Fry, for persisting in championing an art
indexed as unsuitable. The work that chiefly offended was devoted to the activi-
ties, over a twenty-year period, of a rapacious real estate operation in New York,
and its repression demonstrates that even then, in 1971, real estate had replaced
sex as the locus of dark practices and charged fantasy. Anything in the sexual line
could be treated with artistic impunity (except perhaps as an advertisement in
an art magazine), but it is a tribute to the precociousness of art that a desecration
was perceived before it was recognized that housing had become sacred. Haacke
{129}{130}
HANS HAACKE AND THE INDUSTRY OF ART
=|
cE
et
Hans Haacke, Shapolsky et al. Manhattan Real Estate Holdings, A Real-Time Social
‘System, as of May 1, 1971. Courtesy Hans Haacke and John Weber Gallery, New York.
had found his way to the heart of the future, and Messer intuited that the heart
must be shielded. It hardly matters that the controversy was deflected onto the
plane of aesthetics. Messer, who would have represented himself as defending
the purity of art, was in reality defending the sanctity of an industry that was
soon to transform the imagination in ways undreamt of by art. Haacke, who
consistently represents himself as bringing to consciousness the fact that art had
become commodified, failed to see that art and real estate had begun to replace
one another in the general scheme. Artworks indeed have sunk to the level of
commodities. Investing in art futures has become the truth of the 1980s. Its real
estate that has taken the place art once knew.HANS HAACKE AND THE INDUSTRY OF ART
‘The banned work bore the flatly descriptive title Shapolsky et al. Manhattan
Real Estate Holdings, A Real-Time Social System, as of May 1, 1971. And even
though the “as of May 1, 1971” made an unmistakable revolutionary reference to
May Day, the piece itself carried out the severely didactic and informational
intentions of the title: it looked, when assembled, like a project executed by
earnest students in partial fulfillment of a higher degree in urban studies or
applied economics or managerial science. The bulk of the work consisted of 142
photographs of as many pieces of property in Harlem and on the Lower East
Side of Manhattan, together with 142 “data sheets” giving the actual addresses of
the photographed sites, block and lot numbers, lot size, building code, holding
title, corporation address, date of acquisition, prior owner, mortgage and
‘assessed tax value, and the like. Two maps, showing the locations in Manhattan
of the 142 pieces of property, completed the work, together with six charts collat-
ing individual properties and proprietary corporate and individual owners.
Those and only those corporations were displayed that included a member of
the Shapolsky “clan” or that had relevant dealings with a member of that clan.
The research was painstaking, culled from the New York County Clerk’s office,
and absolute accuracy, while not guaranteed, was aimed at. It really was a “real-
time social system,” and the Shapolsky Group was singled out for artistic cele-
bration because in 1971 “it represented the largest concentration of real estate
under the control ofa single group” in New York.
The work has something of the quality of a Leporello from some shady
agency, itemizing the acquisitive histories of a Don Giovanni of the Tenements;
as with seductions, sheer quantity carries a legendary weight in the action of cat-
aloguing, On aesthetic grounds I am uncertain whether the intensity of the work
might not have dissipated in the rarefied Guggenheim spaces, The work would
gain, it seems to me, when all 292 components are densely assembled, rather
than spread out along the ramps or punctuated by the alcoves with which any
exhibition at the Guggenheim must deal. Such considerations cannot be irrcle-
vant to Shapolsky et al.: the use of the typewritten format for the data sheets, the
use of the kinds of photographs an insurance representative might take, the
absolute absence of comment or flourish, let alone of political slogan, convey a
thetoric of objectivity, detachment, bureaucratic fidelity to fact. The work is as if
{i3th{ij2)
HANS HAACKE AND THE INDUSTRY OF ART
it were destined for the boardroom of Shapolsky and Company, if it had a
boardroom. Its dullness is part of its excitement.
In the early 1970s, a number of artists were dealing in “systems theory.” Helen
and Newton Harrison, for example, showed works at the Ronald Feldman
Gallery which detailed the operation of a desert reclamation project. Haacke
himself executed a “Rhine Water Purification Plant,” in which water from the
polluted river was filtered and passed in and out of a tank of goldfish (the Har-
risons too employed fish in their project). The characteristic systems-theory
work aspired to scientific exactitude and often enlisted scientists as collabora-
tors: what one saw in galleries would be mock-ups, flow charts, overlays on
photographs, schematic drawings, diagrams. Any of this could have been shown
without comment at the Guggenheim, It was the fact that Shapolsky et al. repre-
sented the aggregated real estate holdings of a living owner that engendered the
resistance and final prohibition on the part of Mr. Messer, whose recorded testi-
mony emits inky clouds of metaphysical reasoning, as if by a philosophical
squid, in defense against a perceived predator. The work was “not a self-con-
tained creative object.” It suffered from “designating real people.” It had “an
ulterior motive.” The director clearly found himself in the desperate and unac-
customed position of formulating a philosophical theory to keep out of museum
precincts a work that might be taken to call into question a corporate presence
that, as Haacke was to recognize, constitutes the atmosphere of the museum
today. Messer’s heroic act was to attempt to stifle a form of consciousness that
Haacke had not yet understood it was his mission to awaken. It was a dramatic,
moment in the history of recent art.
It is difficult to know what the reception of the work would have been on the
part of the troops of schoolchildren or tourists who visit the landmark museum
on Fifth Avenue, but my guess is that the Guggenheim would have stood
for the show’s duration, except by inadvertence. It would be a resolute aest
indeed who sought in Haacke the pleasures one ordinarily hopes to find at
Guggenheim. And it could hardly have startled the resident visitor, should
have been any, that large-scale slumlords were abroad in the land, or that;
the slumlords someone was the largest. Whatever the effect of viewing. the
in 197, it could not be anything like what it is in 1987. The work may beHANS HAACKE AND THE INDUSTRY OF ART
the first major retrospective accorded Hans Haacke in the United States—Hans
Haacke: Unfinished Business, at the New Museum of Contemporary Art in
SoHo. The show, consisting of eleven pieces, will travel to the Mendel Art
Gallery in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan; to the Museum of Contemporary Art in La
Jolla, California; to the Lowe Art Museum in Coral Gables, Florida; and to the
Everson Museum of Art in Syracuse, New York. But nothing will parallel the
experience of viewing it a stone's throw, asit were, from the bulk of the buildings
and sites Haacke documented sixteen years ago. It is impossible to see these
houses on Eleventh Street or Third Street or Eighth Street as squalid today.
Today the East Village is the Scene, and a nondescript apartment on any one of
those streets is not to be had for less than 200K—with luck. Look at the price
Shapolsky et al. paid! A few grand! Look at the interest rates—6 percent or less!
It isa fairyland for the space-starved, and I saw couples looking longingly at
buildings rendered delicious by what has happened in the Manhattan housing
market in the years since 1971. Shapolsky et al. emerge as visionaries. At a time
when the only question facing Harlem is when it is going to fulfill its destiny as a
prime residential area, it is difficult to feel the sort of indignation the work was
intended to inspire. Its ulterior intentions have been subverted by the times. One
thinks of the opportunities missed, the houses to be had for a song. One might
almost expect Shapolsky et al. to acquire Shapolsky et al. as evidence of its
founder's sagacity (I see that of the edition of two, one is unsold), or even, as a
corporation, to fund an exhibition of Haacke’s once contestataire artworks as a
"gesture of self-celebration.
‘The ascension of real estate to its present position of cosmic glory may have
Tobbed Shapolsky et al. of its original political point, but it helps dramatize a
deeper point that has come to be central in Haacke’s evolving project. When
business products elicit the attitudes appropriate to the appreciation of art, we
May better perceive that art itself has increasingly become a business product,
and that the museum, while still requiring the ideology of disinterestedness
‘Surators insist on, has been subtly transformed into a showroom for classy
ents. It cannot be too heavily stressed that the concept of pure spiritual-
is indispensable to the commodification of artworks. Haacke’s Manet-PRO-
74 (not exhibited here) was proposed for an international exhibition to be
4133)(3a)
HANS HAACKE AND THE INDUSTRY OF ART
held at the Wallraf-Richartz Museum in Cologne, West Germany. Manet’s
exquisite Bunch of Asparagus, painted in 1880, one of the museum’s proud pos-
sessions, was to be displayed on an easel, surrounded with placards describing its
owners in sequence of acquisition until the work was purchased for the museum
at the initiative of Hermann Abs, head of its Kuratorium (i.e. “Association of
the Friends of the Museum”), in 1968, Abs's placard listed the nineteen boards of
directors of which he was a member, and the project was turned down on the
ground that Abs’s effort here was purely disinterested and that none of the facts
listed on the placard, presented with the noncommittal directness of a reference
work but thick with innuendo, should be allowed “to throw even the slightest
shadow on it.” “A museum knows nothing about economic power,” the Wall-
raf-Richartz director wrote in the manner of Thomas Messer: “It does, indeed,
however, know something about spiritual power.” The final placard catalogued
those who raised the purchase price (a steal at $250,000): some eighty-five banks,
corporations, business enterprises and commercial institutions. The museum—
any museum—