Democracy: a piece of art

 By Verónica Luisa Gregochuk Rojas

(7th semester Social Communication student, Democracy, Citizenship and Education elective)

As I write this, Jhon Fitzgerald has spent 40 hours with his mouth sewn shut. The Colombian artist started a hunger strike in the center of the country's capital to protest against the multiple massacres occurring in many regions of our country during the past month and the harsh reality artists have been suffering throughout the pandemic. A sign, right next to him, says: “¡Hoy muere un artista y se levanta un pueblo!” ("Today an artist rises and a people rises!"). Many people on social media got freaked out by this performance. Hundreds and hundreds of comments exploded criticizing his actions. Is Jhon Fitzgerald crazy? He probably is. But his work is, literally, a piece of art. 

"Art is political”, said Delia Cancela, an Argentinian pop artist and fashion designer. Every piece, from a drawing of a daisy to a tragic romantic novel, makes a statement about the world. Artists don’t need to be affiliated to any political ideology or party, but their art, as a reflection of themselves, takes a stand on what’s going on in a particular time and space and has an active consequence to it. There’s no way of breaking the bond an artist has with his/her community: it’s always talking to them and about them. It means that art has the power to construct or deconstruct citizenship and it does it in a very spiritual way. 

Art has the ability of touching the deepest corners of our souls and taking our breath away. You might be amazed by the beauty of it, or you might feel disturbed to the point of wanting to look away. Either way, art is creating a reaction.  Something happens when a person stands in front of a painting, or finishes the last sentence of a book, or watches the climax of a movie. It’s the beginning of a conversation. Maybe that’s the function of art: starting a reflection by stimulating an emotion.  Fitzgerald’s performance is inspiring for some as a meaningful cry of desperation from a broken country. While for others it’s just a cry for the media’s attention. Either way, it generates something in the viewer and creates a reaction.

In terms of democracy, I believe art is the purest expression of it. Democracy, understood as a political legal system is based on the idea that we are all equally different and we can find political representation through embracing our diversity. Art, not only by acting on behalf of freedom of speech, but as a cultural platform that reaches millions of people, acts as the voice of those who are unheard. It gives representation to another’s pain and joy. Picasso’s Guernica is an example of this as an anti-war statement. It’s a symbolic response to the bombing of Guernica by Nazis and Fascists, and the suffering brought by the Spanish Civil War.  Picasso exposed, in his own geometrical way, the pain of war. This is something artists have been doing since the beginning of time, from Greek theaters during the Dionysia festival talking about power, love and tragedies, to Banksy’s graffiti calling out slave labor,  technological dependence or advocating for the freedom of Zehra Doğan, a Turkish journalist, artist, and activist sentenced to prison for denouncing state security forces' abuses. Theater, painting, literature, and film making shape truth. 

Part of art being democratic can be seen in the capacity artists have to give up their bodies in order for others to see through them. This is what Regina Galindo, a Guatemalan visual artist, does to talk about gender violence, impunity, corruption and loss.  She is her work’s object and subject. During her conceptual performances, she intervenes her body. Perra was born after the appearance of several female bodies in 2005 who were tortured and marked with a knife with texts such as “malditas perras, muerte a todas las perras”, before being brutally killed. Guatemala, similar to most Latin cultures, is extremely patriarchal and has the third highest number of registered femicides in the world. In 2019, over 2,000 women were killed for being women. 

Regina, as a direct witness of this problem, carved the word “perra” on her leg with a knife. She did it with the intention of taking control of the situation, by adopting a word used commonly as an insult and turning it into an expression of resistance. She gave her body, her leg, her blood and skin to the female bodies found tortured as a way of saying they are not being forgotten and their deaths, as with most femicides, are the causes for our fight. Art, in this way, visualizes the struggle by showing the rawness of pain. Media just says what happens and, in some cases, they find a way to make the victim responsible for their tragedy. Instead, art embraces those women by creating an outrageous reaction in the spectator, not a passive one. Art, always needing the spectator to complete its function, starts a deep conversation about reality. The feeling the person is left with is, in many cases, the starting line to fight for a non-violent, equal and fair system. 

Art as a social process is also a path for healing. In 2017 the MAMBO presented an exhibition called Ríos y Silencios by Juan Manuel Echavarria. His purpose was to get out of the city and present the geography of the war though his lens. He showed abandoned schools to visualize the problem war has caused for education and children’s development. The artist, working with the Puntos de Encuentro Foundation, wanted to show forced displacement and the savage massacres that occurred during the Colombian conflict by asking ex-combatants to paint their stories. They drew death, and used colors to express loneliness and fear. Next to the drawing there were written testimonies. I went to that exhibition and I remember stopping by a drawing with many babies soaked in blood. I can’t remember who did it or which side of the war she was fighting on. I just remember reading her story, and how she was forced to have abortions because kids were not allowed in the camps. As she painted, she mourned her babies. From the moment I saw it, I understood the conflict from a place of common loss and pain. I understood that in Colombia no one won.  

Democracy functions if we, as governed, understand ourselves as one. Embracing our diversity, we are called to a dialogue in order to build the country we dream of. Art as a way of sitting us down around the table to express emotions and worries, functions as a way to connect with each other. When we connect, we are able to see beyond those differences and use feelings as a universal language. Art not only creates that connection between the spectator and the painting, the artist, the representation of reality, the context and the problem, but it visualizes those problematic questions we should all be working on as a society. This is why art is fundamental for development. 

I was thinking about all of this when I saw a project called Un Canto x Colombia. It was a massive event created by journalists, writers, singers, activists and all kinds of artists who had the privilege of living in a world where their voices are heard. They took advantage of their platform to draw attention to the wave of violence our country has been suffering lately. They sang songs about the conflict, they read testimonies of the victims and they played instruments to the rhythm of pain. They talked for every Colombian who feels the same way. It was not about criticizing the government or promoting a specific political party.  They knew what they were doing was still a political statement, but they were speaking up in the name of peace. I saw the transmission; we were over 50,000 Colombians watching it. It was a democratic way of bringing together citizenship and recognizing our emotions in others.  

By the time I am wrapping up my words and polishing some details, Jhon Fitzgerald has passed over 90 hours with his mouth sewed. Thanks to him people are talking about the working conditions artists are going through. Thanks to artists like Regina we are talking louder than ever about feminism. Thanks to the Colombian artists who participated in the event we are feeling closer, even though we are still apart. Thanks to Banksy, Picasso, Echavarria and all those artists who show the world in such a brave way I keep having faith that democracy will continue being constructed, one brushstroke at a time.