Interview | Interview - Mircea Cantor

Mircea Cantor: We can start with a moment from my childhood, when I got my first camera at the age of 10. A Smena Lomo - it was bought by my grandmother. I know this made an impression on me because the first movie I took, I forgot to load the camera and when I developed it, I had a black square and the rest of the movie was blank. Basically, all the pictures overlapped. It was my first black square. It wasn't until later that I realized it was kind of like "peeking at Malevich." Looking back, that was a key moment where my parents, my grandmother, intuited the direction I was going to go. Then, decisive for coming to France was the moment in 1999, when I was at the Academy of Art in Cluj, when we were asked to do a dialog with an artist from art history and I chose Courbet, "The Origin of the World". At that time, I photographed my friend in exactly the same pose as in the painting. As a result, I lost my scholarship and my professors accused me of pornography.

Then a delegation from France came to the Academy for a conference. Then I met Robert Fleck, a famous curator, who had organized Manifesta 2 at that time. And that's how I decided to come to France, and it was Robert Fleck who encouraged me to do a master's degree in Nantes, as I was in my second year at the time, so without a degree. I went to Nantes with the help of Christiane Botbol, the director of the French Institute at the time, I got in front of a jury that evaluated your portfolio, I passed the exam and stayed in France, it was in '99.

In 2001, I participated in the "Traversées" exhibition at the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, which opened the way because it was an exhibition about the French scene. I presented a very pertinent video at the time, 'Nulle part ailleurs', recordings of landscapes from the internet, which rotate 360°, with monotonous-aggressivemusic by Yann Le Ru, which contrasted with these places of pleasure, where you come to spend time. Following this participation, the gallery I now work with in Paris, Yvon Lambert, invited me to collaborate. In 2002, I already had my first exhibition in this gallery. From there everything took a different shape because I started to get support, otherwise there would have been the problem of producing a work. The role of the gallery was, on the one hand, to finance projects and, on the other hand, to promote, to introduce yourself to certain critics, curators, collectors in order to be able to carry out your work and, implicitly, to sell.

After that, my career has been marked by key works that have had a very strong international resonance and which have then been regularly requested to be shown. In 2002, I should mention "Double Heads Matches", a crazy work made in Romania, at the Gherla match factory Gherla, which no longer exists today, and so my film becomes a sui generis documentary testimony about a factory, about some people who worked there and, last but not least, the result of an artistic project that was out of the ordinary in the context of those times in Romania; "The landscape is changing", 2003, also a film, in which a group of people carried mirror placards and demonstrated in Tirana. With this movie I won the Fondation d'entreprise Ricard Prize in 2004. Another important work, "Deeparture", which I presented in 2005 with my first solo exhibition in New York; "Diamond Corn", presented in the same exhibition. In 2006, I participated in the Berlin Biennale, where the movie "Deeparture" was an unexpected success, was acquired and was also much discussed in the press. I think from that moment on, people started to resonate with the name Mircea Cantor. Also that year I had a valuable work in the Busan Biennale in South Korea. In 2007, my first monographic exhibition took place in France, organized by FRAC Champagne Ardenne, under the direction of Francois Quintin, with a first published catalogue; 2008 - the exhibition "The need for uncertainty" at Modern Art Oxford, curated by Suzanne Cotter; 2009 - a very important exhibition for me at Kunsthaus Zürich, curated by Mirjam Varadinis, where I presented "Tracking Happiness"; 2010 - I had a big retrospective in Germany, at Museum Abteiberg, Moenchengladbach and Kunsthalle Nürnberg; 2011 - solo exhibition "More cheeks than slaps", at Credac, Ivry sur Seine where I worked in close dialog with the director of the center - Claire Le Restif, and in 2012 - solo exhibition at the Pompidou Center. To all this I could add several participations in prestigious group exhibitions, such as the Yokohama Triennial in 2011, Art for the world - Shanghai World Expo 2010 and the Sao Paolo Biennale in 2008.

A.N.: I find it very interesting that I have traced almost 13 years and you have not mentioned a single exhibition in Romania.

M.C.: My only exhibition in Romania was in Cluj, at Protokoll Studio, together with Ion Grigorescu. It was called "Toys for Children", the works could be taken home by children and so the exhibition was empty. I was "courted" to exhibit in Bucharest, but I don't think it's yet the place or the context to do something in Romania. I need a reason or a challenge to trigger something. For example, I don't have any work in a public collection in Romania. In 2000, when I proposed a work to the National Museum of Contemporary Art, I was refused, they considered the price too high. Now the work is in the collection of Yvon Lambert in Avignon.

A quote that I like to repeat and which suits me, I invented it myself, is: "Better to be a guest than a prophet in your own country".

A.N.: During your speech on the opening night, you said that this exhibition is a self-portrait, a sum of experiences and searches. I would suggest you to analyze each of the four works (Don't Judge, filter, shoot; Sic Transit Gloria Mundi; Wind Orchestra; Epic Fountain) and to try a possible, almost intimate, mapping of artistic creation.

M.C.: Don't Judge, filter, shoot suggests our capacity to judge, to appreciate and to discern, it also evokes the necessary imperfection of this capacity.

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi is in the classical tradition of the theme of vanity, of vanity. It reminds us of the ephemeral condition of life and the inevitable condition of death. It is that of the beggar, of the fact that we are all beggars.

Wind Orchestra , in which a child blows on knives with a simple, repeated gesture, shows the possible supremacy of life over death.

Epic Fountain can deepen the notion of humanity always in becoming, in perpetual change, mutation.

A.N.: I'd like to know more about the "need for uncertainty", a concept so often encountered in the critical texts that "gravitate" around the exhibition at the Pompidou Center.

M.C.: The need for uncertainty is linked to the fact that today we live in a world in which the aim is to make it controlled, predictable. You know that if you take a step, you will have a certain outcome. It becomes a position that imposes a certain behavior, that sets you, that breaks your freedom. Uncertainty, on the other hand, is seen as a negative thing - terrorist threats, threats of all kinds, social or political. In my case, this need for uncertainty means letting life flow, letting things happen in a flow that you welcome as beneficial, as part of what can happen to you. Of course, bad things can happen, but by controlling them, you don't annihilate them a priori. So the need for uncertainty, for me, is a cry, an alarm to let things happen . Even this tendency to store and archive everything is a paradox of our society. We erase by archiving. You're erasing your own memory, you're in a way disempowering yourself, knowing that you have everything in place, and in fact you're slipping into a kind of mechanical, controlled, very well thought-out senility.

A.N.: Coming back to your exhibition at the Pompidou Center, how did you conceive and construct the space? I have the feeling that the space around the works is almost as important as the work itself. Am I wrong?

M.C.: Don't be mistaken, it is a space that is indeed built on a well-defined path: it is important what you see the first time you enter the exhibition and what you will see later, knowing that you will retrace the same path. Works are built in intensity. The space that is allocated to them I wanted to keep it very simple because you always have the frustration that you arrive in an exhibition space and you don't have room. And you tend to add work after work. I wanted a whole wall to show just that one pinky . And nothing else.

A.N.: Do you usually have a post-factum dialog with your work? Do they still exist after, say, the exhibition closes?

M.C.: One work gives me ideas for another... or I can develop it within another work. You can see it very clearly in "Wind Orchestra", which I worked on with my son Pavel. Before that was "Vertical Attempt", in which Pavel was cutting the water thread, and then "I decided not to save the world". If you look at my works, each one is very clear, they don't repeat themselves, there are affinities because they still have the same author behind them, but I try not to repeat myself formally.

A.N.: What really consecrates an artist? A private gallery, an invitation to exhibit in a famous museum, winning an international prize?

M.C.: It's the work that consecrates you!

A.N.: I understand that you don't have a superhero's agenda, you don't want to save humanity, you don't want to change the course of things, you don't characterize that kind of commitment, but isn't art supposed to save the world? Wasn't that the ultimate promise?

M.C.: Art is supposed to save art, the world will worry about saving itself.

Mircea Cantor : We can start with a moment from my childhood, when at the age of 10 I was given my first camera. It was a Smena Lomo - which my grandmother had bought. I know it stayed with me because for my first film I forgot to load after each take and when I developed the film there was only a black square, while the rest of the film was empty. All the pictures had practically overlapped. It was my first black square. It was only later that I realized this sort of "Malevich wink". With hindsight, I see that it was a key moment when my parents, my grandmother, had an intuition of the path I was going to follow.

Later, a decisive turning point for my coming to France came in 1999, when, as a student at the Academy of Arts in Cluj, we were asked to do a dialog with an artist from art history. I chose Courbet, "The Origin of the World", and photographed my girlfriend in exactly the same pose as shown on the canvas. As a result, I had my scholarship withdrawn, being accused by the teachers of pornography.

Then came my meeting with a delegation from France to attend a conference at the Academy. It was there that I met Robert Fleck, a famous curator, who had organized Manifesta 2 at the time. I showed him my work and in response he said: "If you don't have museums, galleries or exhibitions, go where there are! ". I went to Nantes, with the help of Christiane Botbol, the director of the French Institute at the time, I went in front of a jury that evaluated your portfolio, I passed the exam and I stayed in France; that was in '99.

In 2001, I took part in the "Traversées" exhibition at the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, which really opened the way for me, since it was an exhibition on the French scene. There I presented a very relevant video for the time, "Nulle part ailleurs", a series of landscapes recorded on the internet, which rotate 360°, accompanied by Yann Le Ru's monotonous-aggressivemusic, contrasting with these places of pleasure, where people go to spend their time. Following this participation, the Yvon Lambert gallery, with whom I am currently working in Paris, extended me an invitation to collaborate, and in 2002 I was already welcomed with a first exhibition in this gallery. From then on, everything changed because, with the support I was beginning to receive, the problem of producing a work of art was a completely different matter. The gallery had a role in financing my projects on the one hand and, on the other hand, in promoting me by introducing me to critics, curators and collectors, which allowed me to continue working and, implicitly, to sell.

After that, my career has been marked by important, internationally acclaimed works, which have since been regularly requested for exhibition. In 2002, I must mention "Double Heads Matches", a crazy work, realized in Romania, in the match factory of Gherla, which no longer exists at the moment, making my film a sui generis documentary testimony about a factory, about the people who worked there and, not least, the trace of an artistic project that was out of the ordinary in the context of that time in Romania; "The landscape is changing", 2003, still a movie, where a group of people carry mirror placards and demonstrate in Tirana. With this movie I won the Ricard Foundation Prize in 2004. Another important work, "Deeparture", , which I presented in 2005 together with my first solo exhibition in New York; "Diamond Corn", presented as part of the same exhibition. In 2006 I participated in the Berlin Biennale, where the film "Deeparture" had an unexpected success, was bought and also widely discussed in the press. I think it was from that moment that the world started to resonate to the name of Mircea Cantor. It was also the same year that I had a substantial work at the Busan Biennale in South Korea. In 2007 it was my first monographic exhibition in France, organized by FRAC Champagne Ardenne, curated by Francois Quintin, with a first edition catalogue; 2008 - the exhibition "The need for uncertainty" at Modern Art Oxford, curated by Suzanne Cotter; 2009 - an exhibition of great importance for me at Kunsthaus Zürich, curated by Mirjam Varadinis, where I presented "Tracking Happiness"; 2010 - I had a major retrospective in Germany, at the Abteiberg Museum, Moenchengladbach and Kunsthalle Nürnberg; 2011 - the solo exhibition "More cheeks than slaps", at Credac, Ivry sur Seine, where I worked in close dialog with the director of the center - Claire Le Restif, and in 2012 - a solo exhibition at the Centre Pompidou. To all this I could also add a few participations in prestigious group exhibitions such as, for example, the Yokohama Triennial in 2011, Art for the world - Shanghai World Expo 2010 and the Sao Paolo Biennale in 2008.

A.N.: I find it very interesting that we have retraced an almost 13-year career without mentioning a single exhibition in Romania.

M.C. : My one and only exhibition in Romania was in Cluj, hosted by Protokoll Studio, alongside Ion Grigorescu. It was called "Jucării pentru copii (Toys for children)", the works could be taken away by the children and as a result the exhibition emptied out. I have been "wooed" to exhibit in Bucharest, but I feel that this is still neither the place nor the context to undertake anything in Romania. I need a reason or a challenge that triggers something. I have, for example, no work in a public collection in Romania. In 2000, when I proposed one of my works for acquisition to the National Museum of Contemporary Art, I was turned down, considering the price too high. This work is now in the collection of Yvon Lambert in Avignon.

There's a quote that I like to repeat and which suits me very well, I invented it myself, which says: "It is better to be a guest than a prophet in your own country".

A.N.: In your speech on the opening night, you said that this exhibition was a self-portrait, a sum of experiences and trial and error. I would like to suggest that you analyze each of these four works (Don't Judge, filter, shoot; Sic Transit Gloria Mundi; Wind Orchestra; Epic Fountain) and try to map, perhaps even intimately, the artistic creation.

M.C. : Don't Judge, filter, shoot suggests our capacity for reasoning, evaluation and discernment, while also evoking the inherent imperfection of this capacity.

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi is in the classical tradition of the theme of vanity, of inconsistency. It reminds us of the transience of life and the inevitability of death. In fact it is the condition of the beggar that is evoked, the fact that deep down we are all beggars.

Wind Orchestra, in which a child repeatedly makes the simple gesture of blowing on knives, shows the possible superiority of life over death.

Epic Fountain can deepen the notion of a humanity in perpetual becoming, in permanent change, in mutation.

A.N.: I would like to learn more about "the necessity of uncertainty", a concept that appears so often in the critical texts "gravitating" around your exhibition at the Pompidou Center.

M.C. : The need for uncertainty is linked to the fact that we now live in a world where we try to control uncertainty, to make it predictable. We know that if we take a certain step, we will have such a result. Uncertainty is seen as something negative - terrorist threats, threats of all kinds, social or political. In my case, this need for uncertainty is equivalent to letting life flow, letting things happen in a flow that we would welcome as beneficial, as part of what can happen to us. Of course, misfortunes can also happen, but it is not by controlling them that we can a priori annihilate them. So for me, this need for uncertainty is a cry, a wake-up call for us to let things happen . Even this tendency to store and archive everything is a paradox of our society. We erase by archiving. We erase our own memory, in a way we take away our sense of responsibility in the knowledge that everything is safely tucked away somewhere, and in fact we slip into a kind of mechanical, controlled, very well-developed senility.

A.N.: Coming back to your exhibition at the Pompidou Center, how did you conceive and construct the space? I have the feeling that the space around the works is almost as important as the work itself. Am I wrong?

M.C. : You haven't got it wrong, it's a constructed space, it's true, according to a well-defined itinerary: it's important what you see first, as soon as you enter the exhibition, as well as what you see afterwards, knowing that you're going to retrace the same route. I wanted to keep the space allotted to each work very simple, because when you move into an exhibition space you are always frustrated by not having enough room. As a result, you tend to pile one work after another. I wanted a whole wall to have just this rosette with a hole in it, nothing else.

A.N.: Are you in the habit of dialoguing afterwards with your works? Do they still exist, let's say, after the exhibition is over?

M.C. : One work gives me ideas for another... or I sometimes develop it through another work. This can be clearly seen in the case of "Wind Orchestra", for which I worked with my son, Pavel. Before that there was "Vertical Attempt", where Pavel cut the water jet, followed by "I Decided Not to Save the World". If you look at my works, each one is very clear, they don't repeat each other; despite the affinities that are present since there is the same author behind them, I nevertheless try not to be repetitive from a formal point of view.

A.N.: What really consecrates an artist? A private gallery, an invitation to exhibit in a famous museum, being awarded an international prize?

M.C. : It is the work that consecrates you!

A.N.: I understand that you don't have the agenda of a superhero, you don't want to save humanity, you don't want to change the game, this kind of commitment doesn't characterize you, but shouldn't art have saved the world? Wasn't that its ultimate promise?

M.C. : Art should save art, the world will save itself.