I’m struggling mightily over what to say about this work by Arahan Claveau, not because I have a lack of things to say about it, but because I know that the format of art-blog writing demands that I keep the article relatively brief and breezy. Arguably, that approach isn’t good for talking about anyone’s work, but necessity dictates it; in this case, reducing the work that deals with life and death issues to such a quick discussion seems insulting. (I had this same problem with “I’m Sorry, Dad” from a few days ago.)
So, I’m stuck. I can’t discuss the piece fully, so I won’t try. Instead, I would like to focus on a few specific ideas that I have surrounding it and hopefully open it up to a larger discussion from there.
In this piece, we are presented with a call to arms: At what appears to be the tail end of a party (ok, can I be forgiven for immediately thinking of the last days of the Hillary Clinton campaign?), all that remains are the party favors and a rather threatening looking noose. Further investigation reveals notecards that talk about some gay teenagers being killed for being gay in Iran, as well as other information about the status of gays in other countries. Suddenly, the meaning of the pink balloons is obvious – the party that has ended is some sort of feel-good, let’s-be-happy! celebration somewhere far away from a place like Iran, someplace where the participants find it easy to forget about what’s happening in the rest of the world (which is to say, someplace like NYC or LA or London or such).
This is where my mind starts swirling and I want to talk about a million things
Immediately I am reminded of the work of David Wojnarowicz, easily one of my favorite artists. Wojnarowicz was the first artist I saw dealing explicitly with the AIDS crisis (and other issues too – which gets forgotten). There was this incredible energy in NYC among artists working in the 1980s and into the 1990s – a rabble-rousing, trouble-making energy of a group of people who had something to say. They were screaming their messages from the rooftops and shaking people on the street and probably spitting in some faces as well – such was the urgency of that time. The energy was infectious; as a kid, I remember growing up around it and falling in love with it. And then something happened, and like Hunter S. Thompson’s beautiful passage in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, we hit the high water mark and the tide started receding. The anger and the urgency got pissed away, and before you knew it, it was if that time had never happened at all. Goodbye SILENCE = DEATH, hello Queer Eye. (Funny thing is, the same thing happened with women and feminism.)
It’s refreshing for me to see a work like this, one that taps into that anger that must still be out there, just below the surface. And in a world like SL where people go so far out of their way to avoid reality at all costs, it’s wonderful to see a work that acknowledges not only the real world, but the parts of the real world we often want to forget about. SL offers us this promise of a utopia where race, gender, sexual orientation, and all those other pesky things don’t matter, but it’s nothing but a very temporary balm.
“Socially responsible” sims like Virtual Darfur often fail because they try and capture the “realism” of whatever situation they’re portraying and, of course, fall short. What’s nice about Injustice is that Arahan keeps his engagement brief and to the point – there’s nothing but balloons, a noose, and some notecards – and stays away from any kind of “realism.” The one touch of realism that I wish this piece had was that I would prefer the balloons to have some sort of weight to them, but this is a minor note. I do like that they are starting to trail all over the sim.
I have to end it there, although I could easily go on for days. It’s late and I have to work tomorrow. I’ll end on this: This piece is obviously touches on some things very near and dear to my heart, so I admit that I wasn’t the most unbiased critic to try and approach it. For that I apologize – but I did try my best. But most of all, I think putting a piece like this in an environment so openly hostile to politics, discussions of the real world, and anything controversial was a ballsy, brave thing to do, no matter how you look at it.
“Goodbye SILENCE = DEATH, hello Queer Eye” – exactlty; Furthermore it seems to me that we, in the western world, are seeing a return of sanctimonious values, which is highly puzzling as our pop culture seems to evolve in pornographic direction.
Of course it’s up to anyone what they choose to ignore or care about, but stories like this one from March ‘08 does suggest that it’s not just in strange and complex places like Iran that there’s something terribly wrong. Party over.
I think the simplicity serves the piece well, it doesn’t come of as abusive in spite of the story behind it being so emotional. It’s simply there.
Finally I’ve been wondering where exactly it is people leave their minds before logging in to experience this immaculate virtual paradise completely removed from anything that relates to our being.
I think what Arahan is trying to achieve with this is most sympathetic, and now we’re even talking about it here.
Left by Ichibot Nishi on June 24th, 2008