At Galerie Ron Mandos there are two exhibitions that revolve around the themes of nationalism and group identification. In the front spaces of the gallery, Serbian artist Ivan Grubabov explores what it means to belong to a nation. In the back, the Polish artist Marcin Dudek chronicles his spell with the hooligans of KS Cracovia from Kraków.
Throughout history, nationalist sentiments and sports have regularly been put at the mercy of autocratic regimes, but do reflections on these two subjects in a different context also produce fascinating art? The short answer is yes, if only because nationalism and group identification are rarely the theme in the work of Western European artists.
It is hardly surprising that someone like Ivan Grubanov (1976) pays attention to this theme. Grubanov studied, among others, at the Rijksakademie in Amsterdam, obtained his PhD in Louvain on nationalism and represented Serbia at the 2015 Venice Biennale. As a teenager, he experienced the Yugoslav Civil War in the 1990s that would mean the end of Yugoslavia. In the following decades, he was a citizen of no fewer than three different entities (Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, Serbia caused Grubanov to question the dubious role of nationalism as an ideology.
An attic full of flags
The national flag is pre-eminently the symbol of a country. In peacetime they fly at every state institution, in wartime people take to arms in the name of that flag. Coincidence or not, Grubanov found a huge amount of flags from his disintegrated homeland in the attic of a local government and decided to take them to his studio. Initially, they only served as cloths to smear brushes on, later he started using them to quickly apply paint to his abstract canvases.
The contrast between the relatively quickly created abstract compositions with the flags could not be greater. By soaking them in paint for years, they went through a slow transformation, losing their ideological value for Grubanov, while slowly taking on a different, new meaning. Grubanov decided not only to incorporate the flags in his work, such as in the Unnation series, but also to use them in installations.
Country above self
Nationalist slogans form the starting point for Grubanov's installations. For example, the text For God and my country is printed in large white letters on a back wall. In front of it are 16 chairs with 15 significantly changed flags and an equally drenched work suit of the Dutch army that Grubanov wears during his work. The flags look futile. In an interview accompanying this show, Grubanov says about this: The installation shows what actually happens to the subjects of all these (nationalistic, ed.) tendencies. They are reduced to more objects; to be used and abused.
The installation Country above self consists of no less than 120 flags that are attached to the ceiling of the gallery. The name of the installation not only adequately reflects the balance of power; its execution also reflects the ambiguity at play. On the one hand, the flags, and by extension nationalism, hinder an open view of the outside world. On the other hand, it offers shelter and an identity.
Chosen identity
Some identities happen to you. As an individual, you have little influence on reputations and stereotypes associated with a national identity. Grubanov had been resisting Serbian nationalism for years, but was regularly counted among the aggressors during his stay in Amsterdam. Conversely, you can also assume an identity, as did the Polish artist Marcin Dudek.
Dudek (1979) joined the hard-core fans of KS Cracovia in his teens. On the basis of his autobiographical story, Duduk shows what concerns hooligans. They travel from match to match, drinking and fighting. At the same time, he tells a more universal story about the human need to be part of a group, the hierarchy and dynamics within a group.
Five years before Dudek joined the hard core, Poland had rid itself of the yoke of communism. Add the loss of a strong national identity to a high youth unemployment rate and Dudek's receptive age and you understand what makes a hierarchically organized group, whose members go to great lengths for each other, so attractive.
The central work Trans Hooligans consists of a cut up Volkswagen Transporter van, with which the members of the hard core drove to away games. Duduk cut the sheet metal of the van into a cage. Like Grubanov's Country above self, Dudek's chosen identity ultimately proves to provide both clarity and hold him captive.
For God and My Country by Ivan Grubanov and Trans Hooligans by Marcin Dudek can be seen until March 6 at Galerie Ron Mandos in Amsterdam.