Imagined Exhibition #2
Utopia is often considered a synonym for paradise, a land of easy perfection and vibrant bliss. But utopias aren’t always a sublime elsewhere. They emerge directly from the pitfalls of our own society.
In The Concept of Utopia by Fatima Vieira , she describes utopias as “a matter of attitude, as a kind of reaction to an undesirable present and an aspiration to overcome all difficulties by the imagination of possible alternatives.” She also describes the political potential of utopias, suggesting that “by imagining another reality, in a virtual present or in a hypothetical future, utopia is set as a strategy for the questioning of reality and of the present.” [1] As a result, many utopian visions from the last century are fantastical, colourful and engaged with nature, springing from a dissatisfaction with mundane industrial capitalism.
Deleuze and Guattari, in their exploration of how art is a means of expressing desire, say that “sometimes (individual) desiring-production can work to destabilise social production as a whole”. Davidson suggests that “desiring utopia, even simply as an individual artist, can create interference in some of the commonly held social ‘codes’ and inspires others to see these differently.” [2]
A perpetual daydreamer, my mind is often haunted by utopias, worlds of connection with nature where labour is meaningful. However, from a political perspective it is important not to get caught up in blissful imaginings but instead to understand how we can use the concept of paradise to influence our realities. In my dissertation, for example, I explored how utopian experiences in nature led Belle Époque women to draw nearer to sexual liberation. The artists featured below demonstrate how engaging with utopias helps us to confront the flaws of our current society.
Kimathi Mafafo
South Africa
The lush, enchanting work of Kimathi Mafafo celebrates black women’s worth and their transcendence of traditional gender roles through embroidery and painting. [3] Her vibrant scenes often show black women surrounded, even swaddled in, nature. She takes two things considered gentle and feminine, flowers and embroidery, and turns them into a powerful protection which brings peace to her protagonists.
Mafafo’s work is narrative, inspired by the stories of women around her. According to SA Creatives, “Mafafo likens the women in her narratives to flowers slowly blossoming against all odds, subtly criticising traditional gender roles whilst at the same time encouraging women to realize their own strength.” Her work is partly autobiographical, in line with her own experiences of finding strength in nature by removing herself from the urban spaces where gender roles surrounded her. She wants to extend this message to others, with a “desire to celebrate the black female form, inspiring women to embrace their own worth and beauty.” [4]
It is not only the utopian narrative which seeks to empower black women, but the artistic process itself. Mafafo has created an embroidery society for Capetonian women and she has described embroidery as “therapeutic, offering a platform to tackle gender issues and share advice as single parents.” [see note 4] In this way, she has not only imagined utopias in nature, but established one in the milieu of society, providing space for women to find power, peace and community.
Mafafo said that “my paintings are to heal”. [5] Her work is utopian not only because it depicts freedom and contentment in nature, but because they empower her and other black women by encouraging them to see their worth and discover identity and community through shared artistic processes.
Kristen Liu-Wong
California
On the surface, Kristen Liu-Wong offers a very different vision of utopia. As opposed to peaceful musings, her works are at times violent and surreally erotic. However, I would still consider them utopian in that they imagine an alternative world of female and queer autonomy. Bodies are sexual but not objectified, prowling men don’t get away with shit and community in nature rules all.
Liu-Wong’s pastel libidinous landscapes are inspired by classic mythology and folk artistry. She describes how “I’ve always been fascinated by Greek and Roman mythology. The fantastical elements spark my imagination and the psychological aspects—the deeply flawed humans and divine beings always fucking, fighting, plotting, fucking up, or falling in love—they’re so relatable and have a timelessness that I try to capture.” [6] Her art feels utopian because it is mystical and liberated. But it goes beyond utopian imaginings by responding to real life threats of violent misogyny through the evocation of communal power and escape into nature. She plays both with fantasy and truth, using fantastical elements to imagine overcoming real violence.
The illustrations are both familiar and strange, mixing plant-filled bedrooms with fetish masks or red wine and radios with grinning satyrs and a beheaded intruder. Her women are vulgar and joyful, sadistic and sensitive. Liu-Wong’s scenes are far from your traditional utopia, but her world is a fascinating response to sexual violence and repression.
Raqib Shaw
England
Opulent fantasies sprawl across Raqib Shaw’s paintings, reinterpreting classic paintings in chaos and colour. His paintings are resplendent with spirits, plants, winged creatures and feasting. But “intricate detail, rich colour, and bejewelled surfaces masking the intensely violent and sexual nature of this imagery.” [7] His utopias are not an escape from brutal reality.
One such example is Allegory of Melancholy (2017-18). Christie Lee describes it as “a calm, lush landscape scenery, while a few ghoulish figures muck about in gusts of wind. In place of Melancholy is Shaw as Krishna, the Hindi god noted for his blue face. […] He wields a giant, slender paintbrush, a bowl of red ink nearby. In the lower left hand corner, a bubble depicts a fire that went up in Shaw’s Peckham studio in Spring 2017.” [8] It seems like pure chaos, but knowing some of Shaw’s background helps the narrative to take shape.
Shaw moved to the UK in the early 1990s due to conflict in his home of Kashmir in which the city was “absolutely disintegrated. When I was growing up, never in a million years did I imagine that I would end up living here, because Kashmir was such a beautiful place, with a very old civilisation.” Shaw was subject to traumas first by war and then by extreme poverty squatting in abandoned buildings when he was disowned by his family for pursuing art. His home has become an essential space for him and he rarely leaves, saying “I do not leave this place. There’s so much to do and, besides, it’s traumatising out there, my darling. And I think I’ve had enough trauma in my life, and I’m lucky that I can live in silence with my plants.” [9]
His apartment, a converted sausage factory in Peckham, is now filled with bonsai trees, champagne and gilded furniture, all of which feature in his work. There is a continuous lavish reflection between art and life. After the traumas of destruction and poverty, he has created a utopia in the safety of his home. Whilst his paintings can be violent or disturbing, he continues to celebrate beauty and opulence. The two sides of life are not in conflict, but exist side-by-side. Such as him painting in nature beside the intrusive memory of his burning apartment in Allegory of Melancholy. His paintings suggest that we must create our own utopias despite the trauma of the outside world.
Masatake Kozaki
Japan
Masatake Kozaki combines Japanese and Western techniques to create colourful, surreal collages out of gold leaf, mineral pigments and other materials. His influences include Hieronymous Bosch and Edo period Rakuchu rakugai zu panoramas. Kozaki’s TOUGEN series is named after the Japanese word for paradise on earth. [10] They include elements of both the natural world and futuristic technologies. From a distance they look purely utopian, with luxurious gold leaf and iridescence. Abundant flora and fauna bloom. Pearlescent clouds and gold skies are a backdrop worthy of divinity.
However, upon closer inspection, the elements of the surreal are slightly sinister. Human silhouettes are entangled in towers of anonymous eroticism. The animals turn out to be strange hybrids which Kozaki call “chimeras”. Brutally modern satellites float in the pearlescent clouds and gold skies. What are these intruders to the Tougen, this paradise on earth?
Kozaki is no stranger to the disastrous effects of humans on the planet, having been affected by the 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Tohoku, the most powerful earthquake ever recorded in Japan. In an interview with Artscape Japan, he described the irony of invoking an earthly paradise. His works are heaving with “symbols of human desire. Chimeras are a product of desire — the devil’s work if you will, human desire taken to an extreme. Gold, too, represents desire: it glitters beautifully, but drives people mad.” His work demands “a broader scrutiny of the extremes to which human and ambition threaten to take us.” Kozaki also questions new genetic technologies which create hybrid animals and space technology leading to more international competition, saying “Are these developments really necessary?” [11]
In these TOUGEN landscapes, utopia is invoked ironically. Paradise is a dream that we strive for but which may be harming us more than helping us. By blending together mystical idyll and sinister technologies, Kozaki reveals how our own desiring imaginations can be our downfall.
Impossible perfection
None of these utopias are real perfection. The definition of utopia as imaginary remains. However, through the very act of imagination we can create community, confront violence, recover from traumas and understand the underlying dangers which surround us. Utopianism may not be a means to achieve perfection, but it provokes us to interrogate our desires. Most of the utopia-aligned artistic visions included in this list are bizarre and chaotic because they depart from social codes which demand regulation and order. They don’t necessarily depict perfection, but simply an ‘otherness’ which allows us to question our society. Utopias can be a tool of liberation because they help us us to understand how we truly want to live.
Feature image: Masatake Kozaki, TOUGEN no. 65 via Art Front Gallery
[1] Fatima Vieira, The Concept of Utopia in The Cambridge Companion to Utopian Literature (Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[2] Nadia Davidson, ‘Art and the Utopian Impulse’ https://medium.com/the-molten-mind-space/art-and-the-utopian-impulse-632ca8d4feae#:~:text
[3] Kristin Hjellegjerde https://kristinhjellegjerde.com/artists/227-kimathi-mafafo/overview/
[4] SA Creatives, ‘Meet Multidisciplinary Artist Kimathi Mafafo’ https://sacreativenetwork.co.za/2020/07/meet-multidisciplinary-artist-kimathi-mafafo/
[5] 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, ‘The 1-54 Studio Visit Series: Kimathi Mafafo’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Awlqydfvks
[6] White Hot Magazine, ‘Interview with LA-based artist Kristen Liu-Wong’ https://whitehotmagazine.com/articles/based-artist-kristen-liu-wong/4507
[7] White Cube https://whitecube.com/artists/artist/raqib_shaw
[8] Cobo Social, ‘Troubled Paradise: Raqib Shaw at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art’ https://www.cobosocial.com/dossiers/raqib-shaw-scottish/
[9] Studio International, Raqib Shaw https://www.studiointernational.com/index.php/raqib-shaw-i-really-dont-give-a-fuck-about-the-so-called-contemporary-art-world-interview
[10] Art Front Gallery http://artfrontgallery.com/en/artists/Masatake_Kozaki.html
[11] Artscape Japan, ‘Chimeras for our Times: Masatake Kozaki at the Art Front Gallery’ https://artscape.jp/artscape/eng/ht/2011.html
Misha Farlowe 