essay | "iterability makes possible idealization"

by Riya de los Reyes

Think of the word ‘Concept’. Refer to the word ‘Conceptual’. Think of the word ‘Performance’. Refer to the word ‘Performativity’. We live in a reality that requires certain definitions in order for us to identify with things on a symbolic level. However, such definitions have this effect of closing up situations in which we can think about things. Identify the problems involving language and exhibitions.

Introduction

This paper will identify the “problems involving language and exhibitions” by first addressing how we define reality on a symbolic level, and then demonstrate how this has ”an effect of closing up situations in which we can think about things”. This essay will do this by examining [concept/conceptual] and [performance/performativity], which I see as two different exhibition strategies. For the purposes of this essay, it is imperative to understand how we derive meaning from ideas and objects through language. According to the Structuralist school of thought, “things cannot be understood in isolation” and that they have to be seen “in the context of the larger structures that they are a part of”. There is no inherent meaning within an object or an idea; meaning arises from the way that the human mind attributes sense and significance on them. Meaning is created and assigned through attribution, not contained within the object or idea.[1]

I.                    Structuralism to Post-structuralism: The ‘linguistic turn’

Ferdinand de Saussure, considered the father of modern linguistics, claimed that words themselves are ‘unmotivated signs’, which means that there is no inherent connection between a word and what it signifies, and that a word is attributed to mean something based on established linguistic conventions.[2] For instance, the word violet is not reflective of the colour violet – it is a way to name the colour. Now think of that popular mind game where you are asked to say the COLOUR, not the word that you read: RED GREEN BLUE YELLOW. It is easy to mix them up and say the word instead of the colour of the word because established conventions are thrown out of the window. This shows that as a system of signs, language is arbitrary and random. It is governed by conventions that assigned definitions on an object or an idea. Viewed this way, language does not provide a reflection of the world as it experienced (we experience the colour, not the word), but functions as a means to identify an object or idea.[3]

However, Saussure contends that “meanings are relational”, which means that a word can be defined in relation to other words surrounding it – that is, that the only thing that gives the word its “meaning” is its position and difference from other words surrounding and/or contrasting it.[4] When we say “violets are blue”, the verb are indicates that violets (plural noun) is described as blue, which does not make logical sense if they are both taken to mean colours. In this case, determining the meaning of the noun violets will have to take its cues from the fact that it will not make logical sense for the noun to mean the colour. Jacques Derrida expounds upon Saussure’s claim that meanings are relational: “The signified concept is never present in itself, in an adequate presence that would refer only to itself. Every concept is necessarily and eventually described in a chain or a system, within which is refers to another and to other concepts, by the systematic play of differences. Such a play, then—différance—is no longer simply a concept, but the possibility of conceptuality (emphasis mine)”.[5]

II.                  Defining the terms “concept” and “performance”

A definition of the term “concept” is first necessary to understand this shift from “simply [being] a concept” towards “the possibility of conceptuality”. A concept may be defined as a “mental representation”.[6] Language is a means to compose the mental representation of our world, not simply to label or record it (although it functions that way too). An example of this is how the calendar year has been categorised based on four seasons. This is even though in reality there is no real division or rupture indicating the switch, for instance, from winter to spring. In other words, the seasons are our way of seeing, “rather than an objective fact of nature”.[7] On the other hand, our “conceptual ability” enables us to interpret and attribute meaning to our world: for instance, we have associated flowers with spring, which is an objective fact of nature and has come to symbolize the season through our linking and attribution of meaning between them.

One of the problems with this way of defining “concept” is that language is viewed as “the tool of thought (i.e. that thinking happens in language)”.[8] Derrida has problematized that although language—through writing—enables us to be cognizant of the fact that meaning is relational, it also has the tendency to “over-determine the signs and prevents any coherent single chain of meanings from developing” (that is, has an effect of closing up the way we think about things). He believes that “iterability makes possible idealization—and thus a certain identity in repetition that is independent of the multiplicity of factual events—while at the same time limiting the idealization it makes possible”.[9] The seasons are conventionally “written over” the months in the calendars because of the repetitive pattern in nature that made it possible to identify each season in relation to their corresponding months. According to Derrida, this way of repetition “leaves us no choice other than to mean (to say) something that is (already, always, also)”, such that “discourse continually produces meanings which never fertilize reproduction but invite further dispersal in ultimately narcissistic acts”.[10]

Writing, therefore, not only enables the composition and creation of concepts, it can also render a concept a convention through repetition since re-writing or “iterability makes possible idealization”. This is how a concept can be repeatedly performed as something that becomes a recognizable pattern until it eventually becomes an established paradigm. Once it has become an ideal, Derrida claims that the concept would not allow for different ways of interpretation and instead “invite further dispersal in ultimately narcissistic acts”—that is, that it continuously performs itself to define itself as “reality”. We could then be locked in the paradigm of looking to the calendar as the authority (a conventional/customary way of seeing) in determining seasons. But what if spring does not arrive in March as the calendar system has determined? The snow has yet to thaw and flowers are nowhere to be seen (objective fact of nature). We would be more inclined towards believing the “objective fact of nature” and may become sceptical of the calendar system.

III.                Linguistic Representation ≠ Conceptual Representation

This disconnect not only proves that language is not necessarily reflective of reality, but also shows the problems of viewing it as “the tool of thought (i.e. that thinking happens in language)” as the linguistic expression of thought “is often necessarily general, non-specific, even imprecise”.[11] Linguistic representation should therefore be seen as distinct from the corresponding conceptual representation. The philosopher John Searle’s Principle of Expressability, which states that ‘whatever can be meant can be said’, cannot hold true. As shown from the calendar example, “the more explicit I try to be (in idealizing and establishing ways of seeing), the more unintended implicatures I generate”, and these implicatures are often due to contingencies and alternative possibilities.[12] For Derrida, the alternatives and the possibilities surrounding a concept are paramount, as they are inextricably linked to it to ensure that “the purportedly ‘ideal’ structure must necessarily be such that [its] corruption will be ‘always possible’”. The ‘normalizing’ effect of speech acts (previously described in this essay as the establishment of conventions through repetition) fails to account for “the complexities of experience” and the way that forms of power “covertly establishes hierarchies of relevance” in interpretations.[13]

In other words, the performativity of ‘ideals’ could in fact simplify reality by failing to take into account that these established ideals are not necessarily immutable since—for Derrida—these ideals are always surrounded by possibilities. Ludwig Wittgenstein provides “hope for a possible cure” to this problem raised by Derrida. He suggested that “it is the grammatical competence which education in a culture produces that enables us to establish ideas for appropriateness and then to rely on practical considerations for defining degrees of probable relevance in hypotheses about meanings”. Rather than “rooting essences in nature”, Wittgenstein posits that “Essence is expressed by grammar” and that “Grammar tells us what kind of an object anything is.” We are able to eliminate objects as “irrelevant” not by forgoing the need for “forms of secure knowledge” but rather by altering “the grounds for determining what we know and can trust as secure and meaningful”.[14] I believe that what he is referring to is the need for context and knowledge classifications.

Recall the previous example: violets are blue. As mentioned, the verb are indicates that the noun (violets) to be blue, but it does not make logical sense if they are both taken to mean colours. How do we determine the meaning of violets? It is the human mind—our “conceptual ability” (i.e. through a system of categorization and contextualization)—that enables us to figure out that it would be better to interpret violets as a type of flower rather than a type of colour. Therefore, concepts can perhaps be better understood as “themselves connected to our larger knowledge of structures” and as “a kind of mental glue [that] tie our past experiences to our present interactions with the world”.[15] Moreover, we can see that human agency/human rationalization is possible when negotiating with concepts, particularly concepts that (through their iterability) have been deemed as established paradigms or way of seeing.

Concluding Remarks:

Derrida’s method of deconstruction states that ‘the centre cannot hold’ (decentralisation) and that the surrounding texts/contexts are more important in the search for meaning than focusing on the ‘centre’ or the concept itself. As such, this is how a concept becomes conceptual rather than simply being a concept. From this conclusion, I believe that a “conceptual exhibition” is one that relies not on its concept in itself, but rather the relation of the texts that surrounds and informs the viewer of the concept. The focus is not so much the concept itself, but rather the way it negotiates with the texts it has employed and engages with. The conceptual exhibition defines itself from the interpretation of the viewer—i.e. the exhibition’s meaning is not expressed directly or perceived immediately, but rather interpreted through the linking and attribution of meaning to the texts that constitutes it, through the texts that the exhibition attempts to compose.

I would like to bring this back to my assessment piece on Camping and Tramping... which I have attached in this essay (click here to read my assessment piece) and I think is related to whatever I endeavoured to reflect upon in this essay. For instance, the opposition between arbitrariness and conceptual in relation to language can be paralleled to the bricoleur and the engineer. The arbitrary vs conceptual dichotomy is analogous to the methods of inquiry espoused by Mohammad Din Mohammad and Dr Polunin, and the “gap” between them is ensured by the lack of grammatical congruence in the way they communicate to each other, if not the insistence to maintain their respective identities through the process of “othering” or performativity through the play of différance, according to Derrida.

One of the reasons why I liked this exhibition a lot was its ability to “speak against” the Westernized concept of the museum by deconstructing and exposing the way museums (as expressions of Western power) have conceptualized Malaya. Through mimicry (i.e. conscious iteration/performativity), the exhibition is able to speak about and against Westernized modes of exhibition-making using the same tools (grammar and language) used by “established conventions” of exhibition-making. This way, the curators themselves followed the same vein of Wittgenstein’s “hope for a cure” to Derrida’s gripe against idealization—that is, the curators acquired the grammatical competence to “talk back” and re-negotiate the way Malaya has been represented. The re-writing (performance) of established conventions is done such that the focus is no longer on the ‘ideal’, but rather on the context composed by the curators.

I guess one of the main problems (for me, personally) when it comes to language and exhibition is the question of authorship and the necessary ‘open-endedness’ of exhibitions. Roland Barthes’ proclamation of the ‘Death of the Author’ posits that the authorial intent is no longer relevant as soon as interpretation is given up to the viewer. The arbitrariness of language and the deconstruction method makes ‘representation’ multi-faceted, fractured and intricate, more so since the viewer is invited to be participant to the “meaning-making” process of the exhibition (intertextuality). But what if the viewer does not have the necessary context to even grasp the surface of the meaning/concept that the exhibition was trying to convey? From Derrida’s point of view, the re-presentations and even (mis)representations are invited if only so as to refute even the notion of an ‘ideal representation’, to make it open to “corruptions” and to prevent the privileging of one interpretation over others. (I personally believe some interpretations are better than others.)

As such, grammatical competence on the part of the viewer is also necessary if he/she could purposefully partake in the “meaning-making” process of an exhibition. I believe this is also the main reason why art (especially conceptual/abstract or those that reference other established works) is sometimes deemed inaccessible to those who lack grammatical competence (context) to understand it. I remember Jim Supangkat saying that a viable way for Asian contemporary art to remain relevant is if it can be understood by Western audience—that is, not by aping Western art-making techniques but rather using it in such a way that warrants Asian contemporary art to be understood by the Western audience because the artwork could speak in the language/grammar that is familiar and immediately recognizable to the Western audience for a dialogue to ensue.

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[1] Peter Barry, Beginning Theory (2002: Manchester University Press, Manchester), p. 41

[2] Ibid., p. 41-43

[3] This already hints on potential problems that could arise with regards to language and exhibitions: because language is arbitrary and distanced from reality, certain linguistic conventions have to be adhered to if an exhibition’s concept is to be communicated beyond the exhibition itself. As already expressed in the module, this has an effect of closing up the way we think about things.

[4] Barry, p. 42

[5] Charles Altieri, Act and Quality: A Theory of Literary Meaning and Humanistic Understanding, (1981: The University of Massachusetts Press, Amherst), p. 32

[6] Gregory L. Murphy, The Big Book of Concepts, (2004: The MIT Press, Cambridge and London), p. 1-2

[7] Barry, p. 43

[8] Jan Nuyts and Eric Pederson (editors), Language and Conceptualization, (1997: Cambridge University Press, Cambridge), p. 4

[9] Altieri, p. 36

[10] Ibid., p. 34-37

[11] Stephen C. Levinson, “From outer to inner space: linguistic categories and non-linguistic thinking”, in Nuyts and Pederson (ed.), Language and Conceptualization, p. 17

[12] Ibid., p. 18

[13] Altieri, p. 30-31

[14] Ibid., p. 47

[15] Murphy, p. 1-2

Journal | Internship at SAM - Session 1 | Contentions and Constraints: What is the role of a Curator?

By Riya de los Reyes

Readings:

Patrick Flores, Past Periphery: Curation in Southeast Asia

Robert Storr, Show and Tell

The first session was casual, candid and informal even though Siuli told us to lay our "burning questions" down on the table from the get-go. The session was mainly about understanding how SAM functions as a government-funded institution, how it negotiates its role as a regional player in contemporary art and how it positions itself as a museum for the public. We got a first-hand account of what a curator at a contemporary art museum does and the duties that the job entails - research, outreach, organization, residency, etc.

What I gathered from the readings and the discussion last Tuesday is that curatorship is "an activity rather than the position, status, or convention [...] identified with the aura of the museum" [Past Periphery, p.10). At the same time, it is also problematic that curating has become a ‘buzzword’, with people throwing the word about and claiming themselves to be curators without properly defining what curating actually means. And this is understandable, since Flores admits that curatorship is a contentious term, on top of being a dexterous practice that – according to Robert Storr – involves self-discipline, selection, respect, representation and ‘art diplomacy’.

·         Understanding Curatorial Practice in Southeast Asia

In Past Periphery: Curation in Southeast Asia, Flores outlines how the curating of contemporary art has evolved in Southeast Asia, particularly in Thailand and Indonesia. The article also delineates “the shift from the modern to the contemporary” in Southeast Asia, such that curators consequently “serve[d] as conduits of artworks and careers, facilitating exchange between the art institutions, the artists and the public.”

I initially found the article to be rather dense (art history-ish) but upon close-reading, I noted that Flores tended to first put forward generic assumptions most people probably have concerning what curating is about and then proceeds to expound on ‘curatorship’ situated in the Southeast Asian context. He is basically trying to clarify these assumptions based on his knowledge of how curatorship of contemporary art has evolved in the region – to which he concludes that:

…the motivations of curators and the impulse of their practice:

1. extension of creative activity and theoretical/discursive reflection;

2. art education and communication to the public on contemporary art;

3. institutional power; and

4. professional development. (see p. 19)

·         What is contemporary art? Why curate contemporary art?

The curation of contemporary art functions as a means to bridge the generational conflict that arises “with the shift from the modern to the contemporary”. Flores notes Apinan Poshyananda’s observation of the “dynamism” shared by the contemporary and culture:“‘culture’ whose root defined as developing force...Different generations hold different definitions of ‘contemporary culture’. I am saying that being extreme is like perceiving culture from the perspective of a seventy-year-old versus seventeen-year-old individuals. Although coming from different circles, there must be some similarities when the two meet. [...] As a matter of fact, they should socialize and mix since they do live in the same period and society.”

The contemporary means “being in the same period of time” in the same way one might call peers within one’s age bracket as his/her ‘contemporaries’. This definition reflects continuity/change, particularly because what was considered contemporary years ago “was pretty much different from today”. The contemporary, therefore, is a critique of the modern... but very quickly and quite ironically can become self-conscious/self-critical the moment (and this is inevitable) a “new contemporary” replaces the incumbent. It is characterized by a shifting fluidity that exposes the dynamism – but also the fickleness – of the ‘here and now’.

But why bridge this generational conflict? Flores highlights “the link between the curation of contemporary art and the politics of heritage, democracy and globalization”. The contemporary discourse is inevitably intertwined with “issues of modernity and identity, which had been ratified quite strenously by nation-building projects in Southeast Asia from the sixties through the eighties.” This remains pertinent, with many Southeast Asian nations still uncertain – if not, in contention or in constant negotiation – of what ‘nationhood’, ‘heritage’ and ‘identity’ really means.

To explain contemporary art, Flores quotes Jim Supangkat:

...a very basic principle of contemporary art: to bring into awareness that the paradigm of world art in a modernist point of view, that we have been familiar with us so far, was based on a limited reality.

·         Curatorial Roles: Selector and ‘Exhibition-maker’

Flores and Storr similarly defined the curator as a selector, with the former distinguishing the curator from merely being ‘a keeper of things’ (also see Wikipedia entry about Curator) and the latter describing the curator as an‘exhibition-maker’. During our trip to the NUS Museum two weeks ago, Mustafa related his encounter with a woman who wrote a letter to the newspaper about a document featured in the exhibit (I can’t remember what the document was exactly but it’s something to do with the British returning to Singapore after the war). She became the keeper, the ‘guardian’ of that document. The curator –in this case, Mustafa – was not a ‘keeper’, but rather the ‘selector’ who consciously decided to include the document in the Camping and Tramping... exhibit.

Flores cites the art historian, John Clark, regarding the role of the curator: “selector; thinker; mediator of thought; cohort provider; talent scout; theatrical agent; journalist; market maker; cultural provocateur, prototype designer, entrepreneur”. Siuli, for instance, informed us of her role in choosing upcoming artists through the President's Young Talents (PYT) platform, which was apparently the brainchild of Ahmad from NUS Museum. Curators judge artworks, as well as artists – their techniques/craftmanship, the way they communicate their artwork and also how they prove their passion for their work. The curator chooses to place value on certain artworks, but also determines the value of the artist – effectively, promoting “a particular style of thought, through the dissemination of knowledge”. Curators therefore “validate the art in ciculation” (i.e., influence the ‘zeitgeist’ in contemporary art), and decide what qualifies as valuable artworks and who personifies a dedicated/deserving artist.

In his article, Storr likens the curator to an editor (which, of course, struck me immediately since I work in a publishing house). The curator as an ‘exhibition-maker’ is “the first, most critical reviewer in the way that a good editor is the first, most critical reader”. Storr emphasized two important 'values' of the curator/selector/exhibition-maker: Self-Discipline and Art Diplomacy. The curator has to negotiate the interests of the institution and the artists, so he/she has to make the call with regards to, say, the feasibility of the exhibition, and also to 'not give in to pressures' should artistic merit be in opposition with institutional interests. Quoting Siuli (though not in so many words), "As a curator, and particularly when judging/interpreting art or negotiating the institution's or artist's demands, you need to find/have found your 'core'/your own voice."

·         Curatorial Responsibilities: Representation and Respect

As such, I would like to bring up the points that I found most important and definitely relevant to 'finding one's own voice' as a curator - i.e. Representation and Respect.

i. Towards the artists and their artwork

Within the Southeast Asian context, Flores stresses that - as representatives of the artists - the curator "intervenes in making the voices of the artists heard, of speaking on their behalf in the global art world's main language, which is English, or serving as informant of foreign curators who roam the world for prospective talent."

Storr, on the other hand, believes that - as representatives of the artists - the curator is tasked to explain the artistic work by "revealing itself" (ie. 'showing', as opposed to 'telling') in and through the exhibition. Selecting and ascribing value to their work are not the only ways through which a curator gives an artist respect. He/She must be able to give "friendly skepticism" and be able to refuse (and "backed by clearly articulated reasons") the artist's suggestions, for instance, if they would be unfeasible/detrimental to the 'success' of the exhibition. Being critical, provided done with a generative/productive effect, is an expression of 'care'/cure/compassion to spot shortcomings and provoke discourse on how something might be improved.

ii. Towards the public

For a curator working in a public institution, he/she is supposed to represent the interests of the public and therefore required to treat the public with what Storr termed “democratic respect”. The exhibit catalogue, for instance, should neither contain ‘jargons’ nor should it bear the tone of ‘talking down’ to the reader but at the same time refrain from oversimplifying difficult issues.

...it is plain both as a practical matter and as a matter of principle that the ultimate decisions are made by the viewer. The job of the exhibition-maker is to do all that can be done so that those decisions will be well-informed, rooted in perception and, in a positive sense, inconclusive.

“Inconclusive” here means that the exhibition has to remain ‘open-ended’ as a space for discovery. The curator should not explain away or dictate the message/meaning of the exhibition, but rather craft the exhibit such that viewer thinks of it “as the beginning of a renewable acquaintance with someone or something that will take a long time to know well and whom one will never know completely.” (p. 27, Show and Tell)

By extension, Flores suggests that the contemporary art museum should be seen “in terms of either a ‘lure’ or an ‘activator’. Lure because it guarantees visibility (tourism, media, investment) for the locality in which it is situated and activator because it stimulates a new urban system”. He also highlights the tendencies of Southeast Asian contemporary art curators to ensure a ‘democratic’ representation of the region’s artwork and artistic community, so as to veer away from Supangkat’s assessment that modernity was based on a “limited reality”.

Conclusion/Comments

Although curatorship is a contentious term ("to curate is not the exclusive privilege of curators"), its role can be defined. It is important to anticipate what the viewer expects from the exhibit - to know how best to represent artworks and artists in an exhibition and how much the artwork 'reveals itself' to its viewer, and I guess also consider the institution's 'target audience' (in SAM's case, the public). The curator must balance the artistic expressions with the public's potential responses to them.

This also leads to understanding the different institutional intent influencing the character and nature of exhibitions, as well as how exhibitions engage its viewer. SAM apparently prefers to 'seduce' the viewer ("to lay the string that marks a trail in and out" - see Show and Tell, p. 25) rather than overwhelming them with shocking/'difficult' art that would confuse or turn off the viewer.

Over dinner, I talked about my love for fabrics (my mother used to run a dress-making business when I was younger). I initially disliked Indonesian batik (I preferred Malaysian batik). However, I developed an interest in it after my recent trip to a museum in Surakarta where I saw different types of Batik (e.g. batik Cina, different batik patterns denoting status, places, etc.) I lamented, "But I feel like there are only so many ways one can exhibit textiles..."

Siuli then informed me about Samantha Tio's recent exhibit: http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/arts/handpainted-batik-makes-its-mark-on-fine-art-photography/501198. Admittedly, I have mainly seen exhibitions done by museums and therefore would like to explore and be exposed to how other art galleries or curating platforms (aside from museums) display different types of exhibits -- "to seek other perspectives and to find/maintain my own voice" as an aspiring curator.

Journal I "sudden vicinity of things" - some thoughts on [Photographs from S21: 1975-79] at MoMA (1997)

By Riya de los Reyes

sudden
vicinity of
things

Re:  Afterthoughts on the tutorial about the 1997 MoMA exhibit on photographs of those killed under the Khmer Rouge (Photographs from S-21: 1975-79)

• Background to the Exhibition (May 15-early Fall 1997):

Political Tensions in Cambodia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1997_clashes_in_Cambodia

This happened in July 1997, but there was already a threat of potential violence as “long before July 1997, Hun Sen had tried but failed to convince his party to authorize military action against FUNCINPEC.” (http://www.hrw.org/ja/news/2007/07/27/cambodia-july-1997-shock-and-aftermath).

The photographic exhibit began in May 1997. Read the MoMA exhibit’s Press Release here: http://www.moma.org/docs/press_archives/7527/releases/MOMA_1997_0040_32.pdf?2010

• The exhibit is an example of the relationship between cultural policy and international political affairs, as well as cultural policy and negotiating historical/artistic canon

In my opinion, it was a demonstration of MoMA taking a ‘soft interventionist’ approach (i.e., influenced by Cambodian politics at that time, yet also making the decision to take a political stance about it by invoking the memory of the Khmer Rouge and the crimes of humanity under that regime – thereby, effectively moralizing both events). The fact that MoMA could take a political stance and have the exhibit to substantiate that stance is a veritable show of power. Also, isn’t that akin to the usual way that the United States employ its interventionist approach to other countries?

The exhibit could also be interpreted as a way to democratize the “trope of historical trauma”, a way to “dilute the canon” by diverting away from seeing the Holocaust as the “universal trope” of genocide and historical trauma (read Andreas Huyssen). Although the exhibit could be viewed as a potential attempt to ‘democratize’ the narrative of historical trauma, the fact that MoMA does the diluting of the canon and decides how democratization will be done is in itself - again - already a display of its power. It appears that only MoMA could and has the authority and means (e.g. acquiring the photographs) to ‘re-work’ the historical/artistic canon.

• The photographs as a ‘mirror’ reflecting the ‘sudden vicinity of things’ and the question of ‘authorship’

The question of authorship could be resolved if the photographs put on exhibit are viewed as a ‘mirror’ reflecting the parallel between the photographer and the visitor to the museum.

The curator talked about “transferring the burden(guilt)” to the viewer. As such, the curator acts as an ‘authority’ on the viewer by imposing that burden of having acquired, catalogued and subsequently exhibiting them for the viewer. This could be viewed as analogous to the role of Pol Pot as the “author” of the monstrosity that was the Khmer Rogue genocide, and the photographer (Khen Eim?) was given the burden of “shooting” those people, metaphorically already killing them before they were killed for real.


Viewed in this way, I feel that the exhibition of the photographs could potentially give agency to those who were killed...if, depending on the context and time period within which they are situated, the photographs could evince awareness of authorial and spectatorial roles. Those photographed become, at once, both timeless (captured and crystallized by a camera before death) and temporal (being allowed to speak again in a different time and space to the visitor of the museum). I think that's better than silencing them, and never allowing them to 'speak' to the contemporary viewer.

It is also worth noting that MoMA (est. 1929) and modern art and modernity were a reaction to the rapid industrialisation towards the late 1800s and then the Great War (WWI). Modern art and modernity were themselves borne out of historical trauma and questions of morality vis-a-vis commercialisation/industrialisation/imperialism, which makes it somehow apt to have the exhibit there -- that exhibiting the photographs as artwork at MoMA was just as valid as exhibiting them in a history museum as an artifact. The striking effect of the exhibit would be how the visitor as an individual can retroactively/retrospectively be provoked to make judgment of ‘modernity’ and to question the path that humanity had taken to experience that ‘modernity’ - was it towards progress or regression, for instance?