Disseminating the World

Ways of Seeing (1972) is one of the most revolutionary television series on art history, the museum and contemporary critical culture. Across four episodes, an articulate, enthusiastic John Berger unpacks the relationships between classical art through the gaze and new technology, the nude and feminism, the oil painting and commodity fetichism, advertising and consumerism. In essence, a level of critical commitment only comparable to its capacity for dissemination. Unsurprisingly, the series, and the book that would distil it, continues to forge vocations. This session sees art historians Alberto López Cuenca and Modesta Di Paola carry out an analysis of Berger’s audiovisual work, placing the stress on episodes one and four of the series. In the first episode, Berger reflects on the connection between the act of seeing, looking and being in light of new technology, such as the film camera. At the same time, it analyses how the culture of reproduction is turning paintings into messages or fragments of communication while stressing the importance of silence when observing historical paintings. In the fourth and final episode, he introduces advertising as a new iconic-verbal language that shares certain principles with the message of oil painting as a luxury item.   

The session opens with the premiere of a filmic letter from Isabel Coixet, one of Spain’s most internationally acclaimed directors, to John Berger, with whom she maintained a long friendship and deep admiration. The short film is testament to the ubiquitous and long-lasting presence of the author of Ways of Seeing, even after his death in 2017.

Inside the framework of the conference On Your Screen: Art History and the Museum Facing the Audiovisual Challenge, this film series sets forth three critical visions of the museum via three sessions featuring the works of John Berger, Jean-Luc Godard and Anne-Marie Miéville, Ariella Azoulay, Alan Resnais and Chris Marker, Kwate Nee-Owoo, and the premiere of short films by Isabel Coixet and La Vulcanizadora (Maria Rojas Arias and Andrés Jurado). In classical theory, the museum gives the world meaning; it contains fragments of the past, granting them a history, a narrative that explains preterite time and the present. Today, there is an implicit assumption that this function hides and legitimises forms of power, yet what if the museum, instead of explaining the world, multiplied it through radical ideas, silenced periods and repressed subjects?  Such is the approach of the film-makers and artists in this film season. 

In 1972 the writer John Berger opened the landmark television series Ways of Seeing with an iconoclastic gesture: slicing Sandro Botticelli’s painting Venus and Mars (1485) in London’s National Gallery. A transgressive act that recalls contemporary attacks on the museum by dissident youth and with which Berger, after revealing it was a reproduction, sought to ignite debate around the idea of an original artwork and a copy. In this, the hundredth anniversary of his birth, the first session pays homage to one of the great art writers of the twentieth century. Starting with a review of Berger’s audiovisual work by art historians Alberto López Cuenca and Modesta Di Paola, the series begins with the premiere of 100 Years and You Everywhere (2026), an unreleased short film by Isabel Coixet composed as a beautifully crafted letter to Berger, and continues with an analysis of fragments of Ways of Seeing in relation to the museum and contemporary art. 

The second session screens two medium-length films by Jean-Luc Godard and Anne-Marie Miéville on time, ruin and museum. In The Old Place. Small Notes Regarding the Arts at Fall of 20th Century (1999), both film-makers consider what remains of that “old place”, the museum, at the close of a century of wars and totalitarianism, and ask whether it should be more of a legend or desire than a place. This same driving principle leads Godard to build his own imaginary museum in Reportage amateur (maquette expo) (2006), a rickety toy museum which, paradoxically, contains the great film-maker’s full power of thought on history and images. 

Finally, the third session explores one of the major challenges of recent years: the decolonisation of the museum, the recognition of its link to imperialist discourses of power and the need to situate a new silenced or repressed subject at the centre of the Western narration of history. Under the title Museums and Restitution, it includes the film Undocumented. Unlearning Imperial Plunder (2019), by theorist Ariella Azoulay, Statues Also Die, by Alan Resnais and Chris Marker (1953), Kwate Nee-Owoo’s You Hide Me (1970) and the first screening of the short film Quinto verso, parte de Tonada (Fifth Verse, Part of Tonada), by La Vulcanizadora (Maria Rojas Arias and Andrés Jurado), filmed at the Museo de América in Madrid. 

Centuries of plundering, decades of amnesia, years of living with unmitigated extractivist power… Does a museum, as we know it, have a raison d'être in a postcolonial society?

This session expounds the operations of the museum as a colonial machine, while putting forward ideas, in narration, for a more just, equal and inclusive institution of the future via society’s marginalised and minority voices. The session begins with the international premiere of Quinto verso, parte de Tonada (Fifth Verse, Part of Tonada), which presents a vision of the Quimbaya Collection (fifth and sixth centuries CE) from the Museo de América in Madrid. It is constructed with the voices and chants of Wayúu mourners and guides, not only as a way of reinstating the role of these gold idols — anthropomorphic figures of men and women used as vessels in ritual practices — but also to imagine that what must be exhibited is not the gold itself. It is the ritual’s own chant. In the classic film You Hide Me (1970), Ghanaian film-maker Kwate Nee-Owoo accesses the British Museum’s collection of African art, located in the building’s basement, to question the meaning behind a museum plundering and nullifying. A fine exercise of first-person institutional critique screened for the first time in Spain. Almost seventy years since Resnais and Marker made Statues Also Die (1953), a reflection on the aura-bearing value of the museum opposite the identity-based and cultural belonging of African art, theorist Ariella Azoulay films the same statues again at the Musée du Trocadéro (today the Musée du Quai Branly), which survive and wait to be reunited with their people. Azoulay, whose wholly original undertaking is a lesson to the museum of the future, connects the forced migration of these sculptures with the mass transit of people crossing borders artificially imposed by the same system that has plundered their culture.

The conference On Your Screen: Art History and the Museum Facing the Audiovisual Challenge sparks debate around the transformations of art history and museum space upon embracing the audiovisual format. Its starting point is John Berger’s emblematic television series Ways of Seeing (1972), a landmark in the democratisation of art-historical discourse. In the series, Berger illustrated how the transfer of a work such as Goya’s Los fusilamientos del 3 de mayo (The Third of May 1808 or the Executions) from museum gallery to home TV screen completely changed the viewer’s experience, allowing the image to travel to straight to the viewer.

In the twenty-first century, this screen-based ecosystem has expanded exponentially, with museums not only physically integrating screenings and devices into their galleries— following in the wake of many exhibitions on the moving image — but also deploying complex virtual strategies. Equally, numerous en vez de a multitudeof historians, students and creators use digital platforms to circulate their ideas and projects. This audiovisual shift opens access to ignored materials and democratises knowledge, as well as challenging traditional hierarchies and the interpretive authority of institutions. The conference, promoted by the research project ATLAS AV: The Audiovisualisation of Art History and the Museum, seeks to analyse this vast audiovisual material, its archives, and its capacity to transform the memory of art. 

In conjunction with the exhibition Eli Cortiñas. The Machine Dreams of Smoke, the Museo Reina Sofía organises a conversation between artist Eli Cortiñas (Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, 1979) and Amanda de la Garza, the Museo’s deputy artistic director, delving deeper into this new show unveiled in Espacio 1.

The conversation takes as its point of departure the recent incorporation into the Museo Reina Sofía Collections of the work The Most Given of Givens (2016), which Cortiñas revisits and expands upon in this exhibition to continue research undertaken more than a decade ago on the relationships between the history of film, the history of museums and contemporary technologies of image production. From a critical perspective, the artist analyses the way in which these devices participate in building imagery, knowledge and forms of power, and how they have historically contributed to producing otherness from a colonial logic. 

Across the encounter, Cortiñas shares the research process and archive work underpinning the exhibition, touching on questions such as the construction of colonial imagery through film, the circulation and association of images and the persistence of certain regimes of representation in contemporary visual culture. Moreover, the conversation spotlights the intervention carried out in the hall of Espacio 1, where the museographic device, emptied cabinets and AI-generated images prolong these investigations to reflect on the contemporary mechanisms of production, classification and the transmission of knowledge. 

The talk offers the audience the chance to gain first-hand insight into the key conceptual elements and creative process in The Machine Dreams of Smoke, as well as exploring the themes that run through Eli Cortiñas’s practice: the historical construction of the gaze, the persistence of colonial structures in visual culture and the apparent neutrality of technologies and algorithms which today mediate the production and circulation of images. 

These inaugural conversations, part of the main working strands of the Museo’s Public Programmes Area, aim to explore in greater depth the exhibition narratives of the shows organised by the Museo from the perspective of artists, curators and specialists.  

In this first public presentation of his annual research fellowship at Museo Reina Sofía, entitled The Rioter and the Witch: Rehearsals on Cultural and Para-Institucional Mediation, Olivier Marboeuf addresses the question that guides his research: how might we summon the emancipatory power of rioting and storytelling as tools for mediation and institutional transformation, without succumbing to the heritagisation, depoliticisation or commodification of the ways of life that are inherent to them?

Whilst introducing the questions that guide his research project at the Museum, this presentation explores some of the central notions that underpin his artistic and research practice, such as ‘witch mediation’, the construction and legitimisation of ‘interpretative communities’, and the creation of speculative cartographies and archives. The concepts coined by Marboeuf arise from a back-and-forth between theory and his sustained career as an artist, cultural organiser, community storyteller and film producer, always concerned with the conditions of presence, representation, autonomy and visibility of minority practices within the cultural institution.

By understanding mediation as a bewitched practice, Marboeuf proposes kindle this practice as a politics of collective hallucination which, by re-enacting the emancipatory potential of Caribbean storytelling, destabilises and negotiates who can appear, speak, interpret and narrate, and which stories become legible, without renouncing opacity. Hence, in his work, cartography emerges as a speculative methodology that does not rely on representation, but rather on the presence of a community that collectively interprets a plural and cacophonous narrative, one that is never transparent or definitive.

The first session begins with the screening of The Lighting (2021), a video art piece by artist Musquiqui Chihying which orbits around the material conditions necessary for visibility. The artist transfers the matter of representation over to image production apparatus — while Togolese photographers describe specific work for photographing dark skin, photographic films and face recognition systems reveal the bodies for which these technologies were historically designed. 

In Josèfa Ntjam’s Matter Gone Wild (2023), revolutionary figures, plant matter and biomorphic beings converge in a speculative ecology and form dissident alliances between colonial histories and different temporalities. Ntjam transforms absence and unresolved inheritances of archive into generative matter, rather than repairing it, thereby lending it an illusory coherence. Memory does not emerge as a stable deposit of the past, but is a relational, mutating field continually recomposed between forms of human and non-human life capable of producing other genealogies, identities and futures. 

You May Own the Lanterns but We Have the Light (2022), by artist Haig Aivazian, shows a city plunged into darkness after a blackout. On the one hand, public lighting organises movement and works as a technology of surveillance and control. On the other, darkness shelters dreams, ghosts, forms of gathering and escape routes. Made up of fragments of animations found and re-drawn by the artist, the work presents visibility not as an acquired right or guarantee of recognition, but as a regime which determines which bodies become identifiable and traceable and which forms of gathering, escape and resistance can persist out of their reach.   

In Not Gone with the Wind (2020), artist Eli Cortiñas explores different visual cultures and their social and political effects to trace how bias across history is inserted, silently, into new technologies. With the incorporation of “not” into the original title of the famous film, Cortiñas sets forth a critique of the long Hollywood tradition which, in her view, perpetuates racist and sexist imagery with full impunity. 

The “Coyolxauhqui imperative” by Chicana writer and theorist Gloria E. Anzaldúa is a philosophical and political concept that presents transformation as a task of recomposing the fragmented without erasing the wound. In Resiliencia Tlacuache (Opossum Resilience, 2019), Naomi Rincón Gallardo situates this work of reconstruction in Oaxaca, where different ways of life inhabit temporalities of creation and extractivist conflict. Faking death and returning to life become a technology of resistance to survive destruction and reopen the future.