Grzegorz Sztwiertnia
WE ARE ALL AGEISTS

1.

‘The curator of our exhibition, Grzegorz Sztwiertnia, was born in 1968. In this project, he invited, as co‑creators, artists who had crossed their 68‑year age threshold. Please explain yourself [author’s emphasis] about what you have done, Sir’ – in this way, the director of the BWA SOKÓŁ Contemporary Art Gallery, Antoni Malczak, opened the exhibition Z ciemności /From the Darkness¹ on 26 April 2013, at 6 p.m. The adamantly enunciated request summoning me, the curator of the exhibition, to clarify the true intentions behind my dealing with ‘old artists’ is significant as it shows the widespread treatment of such activities as unusual, verging on unhealthy fascination or downright perverse, ultimately motivated by the desire for unfair financial profit.

2.

An old person now represents perhaps the last taboo still in place. Death is too abstract, invisible, pop‑culturally falsified and retouched. Old age (as opposed to the half‑conceptual ageing) is tangible, intrusive, obstructive, subversive, abjectly catchy. The rebellion of the old age represents, in the neoliberal reality, perhaps the last bastion of a truly revolutionary spirit, the spiritus movens of spiritual civilisational transformation, the borderline experience of humaneness. The ambivalence of old age extends between the heroism of life as a creative synthesis and the abasement of collapse, disintegration, decay. According to the Christian tradition, we will be resurrected bodily, because a human being does not have a body so much as they are a body. Is it then possible to imagine paradise as a heavenly retirement home? There might be some truth to that, it is just enough to look at the ever‑expanding list of anti‑ageist movements, initiatives, forums, podcasts, guides…

3.

There looms, within the old age [originally ‘abjection’– GS], one of those violent, dark revolts of being, directed against a threat that seems to emanate from an exorbitant outside or inside, ejected beyond the scope of the possible, the tolerable, the thinkable. […] Instead of sounding himself as to his ‘being,’ he does so concerning his place: ‘Where am I?’ instead of ‘Who am I?’ For the space that engrosses the dejected, the excluded, is never one, nor homogeneous, nor totalisable. […] He is on a journey, during the night, the end of which keeps receding. He has a sense of the danger, of the loss that the pseudo‑object! attracting him represents for him, but he cannot help taking the risk at the very moment he sets himself apart. And the more he strays, the more he is saved. For it is out of such straying on excluded ground that he draws his jouissance. The abject from which he does not cease sepa rating is for him, in short, a land of oblivion that is constantly remembered. Once upon blotted‑out time, the abject must have been a magnetised pole of covetousness. But the ashes of oblivion now serve as a screen and reflect aversion, repugnance. The clean and proper (in the sense of incorporated and incorporable) becomes filthy, the sought‑after turns into the banished, fascination into shame. Then, forgotten time crops up suddenly and condenses into a flash of lightning an operation, that, if it were thought out, would involve bringing together the two opposite terms but, on account of that flash, is discharged like thunder.

The time of the old age [originally ‘abjection’ – GS] is double: a time of oblivion and thunder, of veiled infinity and the moment when revelation bursts forth.²

4.

According to Paul Laster – a critic, curator, artist, editor, and lecturer (thus, a man of an extremely broad critical perspective), the first exhibition of 71‑year‑old Louise Bourgeois (1911–2010) at the Museum of Modern Art in New York set off an important social change. Largely unknown at the time of her show in 1982, Bourgeois was to initiate a process of dealers’ and collectors’ deeper interest in the work of mature artists who had previously been overlooked or considered obsolete as they did not match the age trends of the time.³ The uniqueness of the event consisted in the fact that the art world ‘has always’ preferred and focused on youth – whether as a result of the dominance of the economic aspect (e.g., a broad investment perspective, trading and speculation of the output emerging on an ongoing basis, possibility of contracting at a low price level), social and prestige‑related (youth is sexy, vital, available around‑the‑clock – the closer to our days, the more) and compensating for the fear of passing away and death in the psychoanalytic perspective (although the artists themselves perpetuate this superstition, placing the desire for continuity and life‑in‑the‑work- after‑the‑biological‑death in the very essence of creation, or actually building and multiplying their creative output). Thus, discriminatory and stereotypical practices of insufficient, erroneous, or false representation or marginalisation of old age and elderly people, although present in the history of art and media from their very beginning – have only been at the centre of social attention for several years. However, the question regarding the effectiveness of actions undertaken to change this social state of affairs – hurting a constantly growing percentage of the population – remains open. Without a systemic revolution, such actions perpetuate, in my opinion, a socially, economically and culturally excluded state: the example of Etel Adnan and Luchita Hurtado, recently deceased artists who did not become properly appreciated or achieve the deserved success until a late age, confirms these concerns. Adnan, an award‑winning poet, essayist and novelist born in Lebanon, gained international recognition in 2012 (at the age of 87) when her paintings and tapestries were exhibited at Kassel’s documenta13 (as well as in such prestigious institutions as the Guggenheim Museum in New York, the Paul‑Klee Centre in Bern, the Luma Foundation in Arles, the Whitney Biennial at the Whitney Museum of American Art, Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art in Doha, MoMA in New York, or the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art). Hurtado, who had been working for almost 80 years with little appreciation, was discovered when some of her works, accidentally stumbled upon, emerged during the archiving of her late husband’s oeuvre. The late success (Hurtado was 99 at the time) came with a retrospective of her work at London’s Serpentine Galleries, in the last year of her life…⁴

View of the exhibition, works by Jagoda Przybylak, photo Piotr Droździk

View of the exhibition, works by Jagoda Przybylak, photo Piotr Droździk

View of the exhibition, in the foreground: Tomasz Ciecierski, Untitled, works from 1992–1993, photo Piotr Droździk

Tomasz Ciecierski, untitled, works from 1992–1993, photo Piotr Droździk

Wanda Czełkowska, untitled, 1993 i Józef Wagary, Weeds, 2008, photo Piotr Droździk

View of the exhibition, to the left: work by Jagoda Przybylak, in the centre: works by Jerzy Wroński, to the right: works by Witold Urbanowicz, photo Piotr Droździk

5.

According to the IMARC Group Anti‑Aging Market: Global Industry Trends, Share, Size, Growth, Opportunity and Forecast 2023–2028 report, the size of the global anti‑ageing market (anti‑ageing products in general) in 2022 was valued at USD 67.2 billion. The expected growth rate (CAGR) of the global anti‑ageing market in 2023–2028 is 6.5%.⁵ The global anti‑ageing market is mainly driven by the vital role of physical appearance, and thus the increasing importance of new anti‑ageing treatments and products. Therefore, it can be concluded that all discrimination (environmental and systemic) is maintained, updated, refreshed, and ‘serviced’ on an ongoing basis by the capitalist economy system. Why would artworld – the de facto art market which determines the existence and defines the entire artistic and economic environments of art – operate according to different (meaning less effective) rules? Since it is a market (of art), it works like any other market (of finance, commodities, services, consumer and industrial goods, etc.) – where trade and transport lead the way.⁶ In conclusion: as long as capitalism (in its market, state, or mixed variety) is the only relevant economic system, all the elements of reality will operate according to the same principles. Moreover, the artworld as a transnational corporation (TNC) shows exceptional stability, despite the recent frequent economic shocks and crises, and ‘the art market itself is one of the investment areas which are the most independent from economic factors’.⁷ This is why conscious sceptics – promoters of alternative solutions – so persistently demonstrate a lack of faith in the effectiveness of all equality and anti‑discrimination policies (honestly noting the small but undoubted successes in the field). The only effective form of active resistance and counteracting this lies in individual elections and education, local community initiatives, grassroots creation of resistance movements and tactics, and in support for non‑profit NGOs, pointed out by credible websites and information centres.⁸ However, before this vision of social harmony in the world of equality, tolerance, and love of neighbour materialises – another Louise Bourgeois, Etel Adnan, and Luchita Hurtado will turn up.

6.

In an interview with Łukasz Białkowski, published in ‘Obieg’ (Maleria Galarstwa, czyli gra w Galerię na Akademii; Gainting Pallery, or the Gallery Game at the Academy –transl.),⁹ I said that I would very much like to do an exhibition of very early works by selected artists aged 70+, works in which enthusiasm and youthful excitement were recorded, and which their creators had not yet thought of as a form of some kind of artistic professionalism. Shy, seemingly insignificant works which, for some reason, were not destroyed but instead lingered in portfolios or drawers – and which may hide a potential unnoticed at the time they were created. This idea was carried through in 2013, when Białkowski was the program manager of the Sokół BWA Gallery in Nowy Sącz.

On 11 May 2012, the Pensions Act was passed; it provided for a gradual extension of the retirement age to 67 for both women and men. The push‑up of the retirement age then concerned women born after 31 December 1952 and men born after 31 December 1947.¹⁰

The exhibition Z ciemności /From the Darkness was a collective presentation of works by: Jan Berdyszak (1934–2014), Tomasz Ciecierski (1945), Wanda Czełkowska (1930–2021), Tadeusz Dominik (1928–2014), Janina Kraupe (1921–2016), Janusz Orbitowski (1940–2017), Jagoda Przybylak (1929), Józef Robakowski (1939), Maria Stangret (1929–2020), Grzegorz Sztwiertnia (1968), Janusz Tarabuła (1931), Danuta Urbanowicz (1932–2018), Witold Urbanowicz (1931–2013), Andrzej Wajda (1926–2016), Józef Wagary (1941), Zbigniew Warpechowski (1938), Jerzy Wroński (1930–2016). The condition for taking part in the project (several artists refused for personal reasons) was age: 68 years or more. As a curator, I visited most of them and participated in the selection of works, always starting with a detailed presentation of my intentions and motives for choosing the pieces to be exhibited. Hours of recorded conversations and extensive photographic documentation of my visits to the studios gave me a fairly faithful picture of the reality of people (with some of whom I was on friendly terms) considered old, or defending themselves, in some form, against being labelled as such. Since I can remember, when studying the work of artists – whom I considered (and still believe) to be key, formative critical verifiers of emerging, variably dominant artistic fashions, strategies, and discourses – I paid special attention to the initial and late period of their work: from the first excitement and enthusiasm of forming an individual imaginary and artistic language to the final decisions and attempts to resurrect the original enthusiasm, or the nervous search for an adequate expression for accumulated experiences, thoughts, and expectations; finally, a sense of an obligation to tell the final truth, a testimony to the pertinence of the path chosen in youth… In the text for the catalogue of the exhibition in question, Janusz Antos wrote:

Some old artists do quite well, or even very well; however, significantly, their age is usually not mentioned. Besides, many artists do not want to be placed in the ‘old artist’ category. Not all the aged artists invited to participate in the exhibition have agreed to take part in it. They think it will harm their career or they are not yet mentally ready for it. Others, even if they are still working, are unnoticed, unseen (the politically incorrect ‘ageism’ or [its Polish equivalent – transl.] ‘wiekizm’). Unfortunately, some artists cease to create towards the end of their lives, due to their advanced age and poor health.¹¹

7.

Ana Finel Honigman asked in The Guardian, in her article Is the art world ageist?: if artists need age and experience for their talent to mature, so why is the art world obsessed with youth?¹²

This is how I learned, as early as 2013, the essence of the problem which the American doctor, gerontologist and psychiatrist Robert Neil Butler (1927–2010) had named, in 1969, ‘ageism’ (modelled on sexism and racism) – defining discrimination against the elderly. Butler defined ‘ageism’ as a combination of three elements: prejudice against the elderly, old age, and the ageing process itself; discriminatory practices against the elderly, as well as institutional practices and policies perpetuating the stereotypes about this age group.¹³

8.

In the author’s comment to my own found footage from 2012, The Weird Artist shown at the exhibition (and elucidating the problem in a certain manner), I wrote:

The plot of the film and the set design depict an unexpected visit by a well‑known curator (a woman) and the owner of a renowned, influential gallery (man), both dealing with contemporary art, at the weird artist’s studio; they intend to vet the artist (it is completely dark) in view of a potential cooperation (on their terms). There is also a cameraman with an infrared lamp: they want to document everything without asking for permission. They want to be well prepared for a possible meeting with the weird artist and negotiate the fees toughly. The door is open, so they get in. They look around thoroughly, explore, nose about. […] When confusion reaches its zenith, the weird artist enters the stage. The action gathers pace. The artist is furious about the sudden intrusion. With a hammer in his skinny hand, banging left and right, he catches up with the gallery owner and brutally kills him. However, the art world did not suffer at all. The scenes that follow bring us closer to the character of the weird artist. We like him despite his hot‑headedness. He is right, the art system has done enough harm to let it off lightly. The bumped‑off owner of the contemporary art gallery lies battered like a Sunday pork chop. We don’t cry for him. We then see how the artist behaves in his studio. We like his composure and focus. We subconsciously feel that, in his head, he is thinking about another work that will open up new horizons for him. We want to be in his head now.¹⁴

Janusz Antos concludes:

We cannot be inside the impetuous Weird Artist’s head (and let’s not forget he has blood on his hands!). The filmmaker’s alter ego. In his world, there is a constant struggle for survival. Instead, we are or can be present at Grzegorz Sztwiertnia’s exhibition. The Weird Artist understood the curator’s desire and decided to help her… in a weird way. Will Grzegorz Sztwiertnia understand the old artists’ desires and give them a helping hand? We can be sure of one thing: he will do it in a weird way: he is a weird artist, after all.¹⁵

9.

The exhibition From the Darkness gathered early works (as early as possible) by artists who eventually agreed to take part in it, and was intended to articulate the problem of ageism in Polish art, expressed in marginalisation and omitting aged artists, important for our cultural sphere, in the current artistic discourse. The assumed attempt to return to their first emotions, interests, topics, and formal solutions was supposed to answer two main questions. The first concerned the role of early artistic experiences in the late creative attitude and the stance of the authors themselves towards their artistic and intellectual beginnings. Both threads, due to their problematic nature for the participants themselves, were subtly located throughout the project, shifting the emphasis to the side of illustrating the vitality and high cognitive value of the artists’ early works. After the exhibition, a catalogue was published, showing both the curator’s intentions and the exhibition preparation process, the main part of which were visits and conversations in the participants’ studios.

From the perspective of the decade, it is worth asking ourselves: has the situation in Polish culture changed and if so, to what extent? We will still certainly have to wait for the answer. Thus, we are all ageists – at least until we get old ourselves.