Simona Campus is an art historian and curator. She studied at the University of Cagliari and Sapienza University of Rome, and furthered her education at the Scuola Normale Superiore in Pisa and, in the United Kingdom, at the University of Cambridge. At the University of Cagliari, she collaborates with the Chair of Contemporary Art History and holds a PhD in Philological and Literary Studies, with research focusing on the relationships between visual arts and literature within the context of twentieth-century Italian culture.
She has gained significant professional experience in the museum sector and is the author of specialist publications and monographs. She also contributed to the catalogue of the collections of MAXXI, the National Museum of 21st Century Arts in Rome. Her curatorial work frequently focuses on exhibitions exploring the intersections and cross-fertilisation of different artistic languages and forms of expression in contemporary culture.
Web: unica-it.academia.edu/SimonaCampus
E-mail: simonacampus@gmail.com
Interview with Simona Campus
1. From your point of view, what kind of reflections does placing an artwork in a toilet provoke?
First of all, there is undoubtedly an intention to provoke in your project. And this intention refers to a fundamental line of research running through twentieth- and twenty-first-century art, beginning with Duchamp’s Fountain and continuing through Manzoni’s Artist’s Shit. In your case, the provocation seems to me to lie essentially in bringing together the intellectual, emotional and creative depth of the human being with purely bodily needs. And this was a theme particularly dear to the Surrealists, who had a point of reference, a kind of tutelary figure, in the character created by Alfred Jarry: the famous King Ubu, a grotesque sovereign entirely focused on his physiological instincts. This reference makes me think precisely about the contribution that a provocation such as yours can make, in terms of the things it has to say — very important things to say — about our society and, in particular, about the art world. These reflections are therefore connected to the need to oppose a certain kind of respectability, the false moralism that still governs our age, which is emancipated only in appearance. They are also connected to the need to demystify appearances, in order to reclaim the possibility of speaking sincerely and communicating frankly. So, breaking down filters and barriers, without hiding behind a solemn, high-flown register or behind superstructures, becomes — or can become — a strategic approach for questioning our time and the role of art within it.
2. If “everything is art, nothing is art”, where do the performances of Occupy w.c. fit in, and what elements of originality do you think the project can offer in today’s context?
Originality. I believe that the originality of the project lies primarily in the social dimension it expresses. Let me explain more clearly. Artists, particularly in contemporary times, have continually questioned the spaces of art: the spaces in which art is made and the spaces in which art is experienced. This time, however, with your project, not only are the institutional and conventional spaces in which art is usually experienced — such as museums and galleries — rejected, and not only is an alternative space sought, but a neglected space is identified, one that lies completely outside conventional ideas of aesthetic potential. Now, a toilet, even when it is a public toilet, is by definition a private place, a place of privacy and non-social interaction. But through this artistic occupation, through the fact that you place your artworks in toilets throughout Italy and across Europe, these spaces change their meaning. Through a kind of process of estrangement, they become places with an aesthetic significance. They also become spaces of social interaction, because they involve all the people who pass through those toilets, and a connection is established between those people. There is another aspect that I believe is important to emphasise. You occupy, and intend to occupy, toilets that are very different from one another, with very different physical and social characteristics. For example, you occupy the toilets of prestigious cultural institutions, including museums, and in exactly the same way you occupy toilets in airports and railway stations. It is clear that when you choose to have your works experienced not in the galleries of a museum but in its toilets, you are taking a position and conveying a powerful message against an elitist conception of culture and against the rules that govern the system. Occupying the toilet of a railway or underground station, on the other hand, means engaging with a place that is aesthetically neglected, as I mentioned earlier, in almost every respect, and which is often dirty or vandalised. Here, the presence of the artistic object potentially addresses a much larger number of people, a multitude of individuals, bringing into contact people who do not belong to any particular group, let alone to a cultural elite. And you draw the attention of these people during the few minutes in which they use the toilet, somehow compelling them to engage with thoughts and considerations that would otherwise be very unlikely to arise during those few minutes and in that particular context. Furthermore, in this context, the intervention takes on the form of a kind of urban guerrilla action, almost a peaceful and colourful guerrilla action, suggesting respect for a place which, although intended for private functions, remains a public space where, paradoxically — though perhaps not so paradoxically — the degree of civilisation of a community can be measured. This is what I meant when I referred to the social dimension inherent in this project. If we then add that the point at which the project ultimately converges is the web — the connection to content and discussion online through QR codes, through the use of the smartphone, a device that has now become part of everyone’s everyday life — the social dimension becomes even more evident. What becomes even clearer is the intention to use every available tool — physical, technological and virtual — to create dialogue and to communicate. And the further material you suggest online is always relevant, as is happening now, while you are preparing to occupy the toilets of the Architecture Biennale and using this as an opportunity to open up a discussion about the current state of architecture and the professional role of the architect.
3. In what sense can Occupy w.c. be considered a break with some of the paradigms of contemporary art?
Yes, I believe so. Without a doubt, it can be considered a moment of rupture. And for this very reason, it is extremely interesting from at least two points of view, which are interconnected. The first element of rupture lies, as we were saying, in the rejection of any form of elitism, of any kind of barrier. It lies in your desire to place the project not within the established frameworks of cultural and artistic contexts, but within people’s real, everyday lives. It lies in the fact that this project begins from premises and pursues aims that are, so to speak, explicitly popular. And this is where the second element of rupture comes into play, one that is perhaps even more incisive. So far, we haven’t discussed the kind of artistic objects with which you occupy the toilets. First of all, we should point out that these works are specifically conceived and created to be placed in toilets. They are characterised by a deliberately ostentatious kitsch style, which is obviously part of the provocation. They are pop works — popular works, precisely — but they have no desire whatsoever to become icons. On the contrary, they deliberately seek to escape the degenerative mechanisms of the art market. The value of the artwork — both its economic and its ideal value — is called into question from within your project itself. Anyone, in fact, could recklessly damage, vandalise or even steal the works. And, ultimately, it seems to me that this is not something that particularly concerns you. But anyone can also potentially intervene creatively in your works, setting in motion a process through which an object resulting from individual creation can become, with entirely unpredictable outcomes, a collective artwork, a collective installation. Alongside the question of value, what is also being reconsidered is the concept of beauty itself — a concept that is completely detached from uniqueness and from the aura of the work, if we wish to refer to what Walter Benjamin was already theorising in the 1930s.
4. So, what does beauty mean to you?
What is beauty? Well, as we know, modernity brought about the collapse of all the traditional parameters, all the classical canons of beauty. In my view, however, this does not mean that beauty today can only be subjective, linked to individual taste. I believe that an objective form of beauty can and should continue to exist. And I believe that it can and should find expression in forms of participation, in solidarity between human beings and, even more importantly, in empathy — both physical and emotional. I believe that beauty can arise from the commitment to listening to one another, to trying to understand one another; in a word, from the commitment to sharing our existence with the existence of others. Sharing virtually, why not? But also sharing within real spaces, spaces where we can be together. And those spaces might even include these spaces, these places: toilets. So yes, without a doubt, beauty can find a place even in a toilet.
Recorded on 03 June 2014