Source: VilaWeb
06.03.2023
Anna Zaera
PRESS TEXT
In English (translation):
Artists are at risk both here and there, and the biggest threat is that we’ll be deprived of their stories
This weekend, the play ‘My mother and the total invasion’ by playwright Sasha Denisova and actor Aleksey Yudnikov was performed in Barcelona. The two Ukrainian artists have been in Catalonia for a year after fleeing Russia, where they lived for years. On February 24, 2022, their lives changed. As Ukrainians in Moscow, they quickly packed their bags when Putin’s bombings of the neighbouring country began. On March 9, it will be a year since Aleksey crossed the border with Finland and his partner Sasha fled to Warsaw. From this exile, and from the distance itself, the piece has come out. A monologue that has been seen at the CCCB in Barcelona and will soon tour Catalonia, where Mrs. Olga IvĂ novna, eighty-one years old and Sasha’s mother, represents the parallelism of Kyiv between the German bombings of the Second World War and Putin’s current ones. She has never wanted to leave her city, because she feels at home and it is from where she articulates the story of rooting or uprooting and how these feelings are transmitted, from generation to generation, between members of the same family. Mrs. Olga Ivanovna holds live conversations with heads of state and her ex-husbands, taking a tour of the political history of her country through her own affections. The small family story always speaks of the big story, and there is nothing that seems to me more necessary than to connect domestic subjectivities with the great political narratives, as masterpieces do. Now the spectacular The Years by the French author Annie Ernaux, which I have just read, comes to mind.
Sasha Denisova and Aleksey Yudnikov have lived in Barcelona for almost a year, where they have had accommodation and space to continue their artistic work with the help of ICUB and Fabra i Coats. Artistes en Risc, the Catalan name for Artists at Risk, is the Catalan section of this international association that has been helping persecuted and threatened artists to create in safe spaces for ten years. Before the Ukrainian war, it had hosted artists in 26 places in 19 countries around the world. Since the Russian invasion began, scores of institutions across Europe have signed up to relocate and support six hundred dissident artists and cultural workers from Russia and Belarus at risk of persecution, imprisonment or worse , who have requested help. Apart from Sasha and Aleksey, the founders of Pussy Riot, Maria Aliòkhina and Nà dia Tolòkonnikova, have been helped, as well as the Vietnamese dissident Mai Khoi and the Egyptian poet Galal el-Behairy, for example.
The shame of the Spanish state
If this year the artists in the spotlight are those who have had to exile themselves from Russia, the panorama of artists threatened by various states is much wider, and it touches us, as we know, closely. Every year, an NGO called Freemuse publishes a report explaining the situation of artists by country. We still remember the results of 2019 and 2018, when the Spanish state topped the world rankings – yes, I said global – with fourteen artists sentenced to prison, scandalously, ahead of countries such as Iran, Turkey, Myanmar and China. The Spanish state was responsible for 31% of the cases where anti-terrorist measures were applied to artists’ freedom of expression. Valtònyc or Pablo Hasel – who is still in prison, because his nine-month sentence has been extended – are just two of them.
Another surprising fact, according to this data, is that among the artists most affected are singers and musicians. Music is the expression that takes place in the heart, that crosses borders, that can be shared for free on the net and create hymns. Perhaps this is why music seems like the most dangerous art, the most capable of generating blasphemous lyrics, insulting the rulers or using words to incite terrorism.
Women artists, chapter aside
And if men are at risk, women are even more so, and it’s worth saying this week when we celebrate the Eighth of March. During 2022, hundreds of women were condemned for dealing, through art, with issues such as sexual health and instead were considered authors of obscene themes. According to data from this organisation, seventeen women have been tried for work classified as indecent. In addition, thirty-two people were convicted because of their sexual orientation or gender identity. Among the countries where the violation of women’s rights has been most flagrant this past year, we find Iran and Afghanistan. Since the Taliban returned to power in August 2021, many women have been removed from the public sphere and imprisoned. In fact, many artists have had to burn their work, forced and for fear of reprisals. The same has happened in Aleksandr Lukaishenko’s Belarus, which accumulates hundreds of artists with criminal proceedings. Poland should also be mentioned, where several creators have been accused of blasphemy or insulting religious sentiments and accused of making LGBTQI+ artworks. We still remember the case of the Polish National Art Gallery, which removed a video from the collection, recorded in the 1970s, on moral grounds in 2019. The footage showed a young woman sensually eating a banana.
In matters of exile, it pays to never lose perspective. And not focus only on the most distant countries, appealing to the universalist spirit that sees everything but what is close by. Only three years ago, Spain topped the world rankings – yes, I said global. It would be good if Sasha Denisova and Aleksey Yudnikov met ValtĂłnyc or Pablo Hasel and that the dialogues about exile could be shared beyond state frameworks and the boxes that indicate what is a democracy and what is not. Artists are at risk, here and there, and precisely the biggest threat is depriving us of their stories.
In Catalan (original):
Els artistes es troben en risc, aquĂ i allĂ , i precisament l’amenaça mĂ©s gran Ă©s privar-nos de les seues històries
Aquest cap de setmana s’ha representat a Barcelona l’obra Ma mare i la invasiĂł total, de la dramaturga Saixa DenĂssova i l’actor Aleksei Iudnikov. Els dos artistes ucraĂŻnesos fa un any que estan a Catalunya, desprĂ©s de fugir de RĂşssia, on vivien de fa anys. El dia 24 de febrer de 2022 els va canviar la vida. Com a ucraĂŻnesos a Moscou, quan van començar els bombardejos de Putin al paĂs veĂ, van fer les maletes rĂ pidament. El 9 de març farĂ un any que Aleksei va travessar la frontera amb FinlĂ ndia i la seua companya Saixa va fugir a Varsòvia. D’aquest exili, i de la distĂ ncia mateixa, n’ha sortit la peça. Un monòleg que s’ha vist al CCCB de Barcelona i aviat girarĂ per Catalunya, on la senyora Olga IvĂ novna, de vuitanta-un anys i mare de la Saixa, representa que explica el paral·lelisme entre els bombardejos alemanys de la Segona Guerra Mundial i els actuals de Putin sobre KĂiv. Ella no ha volgut abandonar mai la seva ciutat, perquè se sent a casa i Ă©s des d’on articula la història d’arrelament o de desarrelament, es miri com es miri, i de com aquestes sensacions es transmeten, de generaciĂł en generaciĂł, entre els membres d’una mateixa famĂlia. La senyora Olga IvĂ novna mantĂ© en directe converses amb els caps d’estat i els seus ex-marits, fent un recorregut a la història polĂtica del seu paĂs a travĂ©s dels propis afectes. Perquè la petita història familiar sempre parla de la gran història, i no hi ha res que em sembli mĂ©s necessari que connectar les subjectivitats domèstiques amb els grans relats polĂtics, com fan les obres mestres. Ara em ve al cap l’espectacular Els anys de la francesa Annie Ernaux, que acabo de llegir.
La Saixa i Aleksei Iudnikov han viscut gairebĂ© un any a Barcelona, on han tingut allotjament i espai per a continuar el seu treball artĂstic, amb l’ajuda de l’ICUB i de la Fabra i Coats. Artistes en Risc, el nom catalĂ d’Artists at Risk, Ă©s la secciĂł catalana d’aquesta associaciĂł internacional que fa deu anys que ajuda artistes perseguits i amenaçats a crear en espais segurs. Abans de la guerra d’UcraĂŻna ja havia acollit artistes a 26 llocs de 19 paĂŻsos del mĂłn. Des que va començar la invasiĂł russa, un munt d’institucions s’hi han inscrit a tot Europa per tal de traslladar i donar suport a sis-cents artistes dissidents i treballadors culturals de RĂşssia i BielorĂşssia, amb risc de persecuciĂł, empresonament o pitjor, que han sol·licitat ajuda. A part de la Saixa i l’Aleksei, han ajudat les fundadores de Pussy Riot, Maria Aliòkhina i NĂ dia Tolòkonnikova; la dissident vietnamita Mai Khoi; o el poeta egipci Galal el-Behairy, per exemple.
La vergonya de l’estat espanyol
Si enguany els artistes que hi ha en el punt de mira sĂłn els que han hagut d’exiliar-se de RĂşssia, el panorama d’artistes amenaçats per diversos estats Ă©s molt mĂ©s ampli, i ens toca, com sabem, de prop. Cada any, una ONG que es diu Freemuse publica un informe en què explica la situaciĂł dels artistes per paĂs. Encara recordem els resultats del 2019 i 2018, quan l’estat espanyol va encapçalar la classificaciĂł mundial –sĂ, he dit mundial– amb catorze artistes condemnats a presĂł, escandalosament, davant de paĂŻsos com l’Iran, Turquia, Myanmar i la Xina. L’estat espanyol va ser responsable del 31% dels casos on es van aplicar mesures antiterroristes a la llibertat d’expressiĂł dels artistes. Valtònyc o Pablo Hasel –que encara Ă©s a la presĂł, perquè la pena de nou mesos se li ha anat allargant– en sĂłn nomĂ©s dos.
Un altre fet sorprenent, segons aquestes dades, és que entre els artistes els més damnificats són cantants i músics. La música és l’expressió que s’escola al cor, que travessa fronteres, que pot compartir-se gratuïtament a la xarxa i crear himnes. Potser per això la música sembla l’art perillós, el més capaç de generar lletres blasfemes, insultar els governants o usar paraules per incitar al terrorisme.
Les dones artistes, capĂtol a banda
I si els homes es troben en risc, les dones encara mĂ©s, i val la pena dir-ho aquesta setmana del Vuit de Març. Durant l’any 2022 centenars de dones van ser condemnades pel fet de tractar, des de l’art, temes com la salut sexual i, en canvi, ser considerades autores de temĂ tiques obscenes. Segons dades d’aquesta organitzaciĂł, s’han registrat disset dones jutjades per treballs qualificats d’indecents. A mĂ©s, trenta-dues persones van ser condemnades per orientaciĂł sexual o identitat de gènere. Entre els paĂŻsos on la vulneraciĂł de drets de les dones ha estat mĂ©s flagrant aquest Ăşltim any, hi trobem l’Iran o l’Afganistan. Des que els talibans van tornar al poder, l’agost del 2021, moltes dones han estat apartades de l’esfera pĂşblica i empresonades. De fet, moltes artistes han hagut de cremar la seva obra, obligades i per por de represĂ lies. Això mateix ha passat a la BielorĂşssia d’Aleksandr Lukaixenko, que acumula centenars d’artistes amb processos penals. TambĂ© cal esmentar Polònia, on diversos creadors han estat acusats de blasfèmia o d’insults a sentiments religiosos, i acusats de fer obres d’art LGBTQI+. Encara recordem el cas de la galeria d’art nacional de Polònia, que va eliminar un vĂdeo de la col·lecciĂł, enregistrat als anys setanta, per motius morals l’any 2019. Les imatges mostraven una dona jove menjant sensualment un plĂ tan.
En qĂĽestions d’exilis, val la pena de no perdre mai la perspectiva. I no fixar-nos nomĂ©s en els paĂŻsos mĂ©s llunyans, apel·lant a l’esperit universalista que ho veu tot menys allò que tĂ© a prop. NomĂ©s fa tres anys l’estat espanyol va encapçalar la classificaciĂł mundial –sĂ, he dit mundial. Estaria bĂ© que Saixa DenĂssova i Aleksei Iudnikov coneguessin Valtònyc o Pablo Hasel i que els diĂ legs sobre l’exili poguessin ser compartits mĂ©s enllĂ dels marcs estatals, i dels calaixets que senyalen què Ă©s una democrĂ cia i què no ho Ă©s. Els artistes es troben en risc, aquĂ i allĂ , i precisament l’amenaça mĂ©s gran Ă©s privar-nos de les seues històries.