Alexandru Antik’s appropriation of Mladen Stilinović’s work (from “An artist who cannot speak English is no artist” to “An artist who cannot speak about himself is no artist”) instantiates a critical inflection to the exhibition’s unfolding. This inflection is seen in the exhibit’s title, which is also a predication, a proposition that translates the exhibition’s ecologies of inquiry into a psychic state—“a matter of contemplation and discontent.”
PART OF A LONGER ESSAY
text by Carlos Quijon, Jr.
A Matter of Contemplation and Discontent
Curated by Anca Verona Mihulet
We start from there. Arriving is the same as carrying a map. You are in Vargas Museum. Yet it is almost 1989. You’re not lost, okay? If you see a room, and then you see things moving in the room, think: what would good art criticism have you do? Hint: it certainly won’t be ordering you around. Or, rather, obtusely, open, curate, tension the tension, problematize, then some ideology, keep it sweet and out of reach. That’s not the point.
text by Jasmine Agnes T. Cruz
text by Jaime Oscar M. Salazar
Two shows at the Vargas Museum, A Matter of Contemplation and Discontent and Republic, opened on 22 September 2016 by way of a lecture-performance by Romanian artist Alexandru Antik, whose works are included in the former exhibition: clad in eye mask, neck pillow, T-shirt, shorts and sandals, he emerged from a third-floor office, supported by curators Patrick D. Flores and Anca Verona Mihuleț, and into a section of Republic. Flores, in a white laboratory coat, and Mihuleț, in a green hospital gown, traded banter about the Philippines and Romania, steering a silent Antik around with them, before proceeding to the lobby on the first floor.