The Contemporary Art Blog from Canberra

Nobody knows just when a board game titled “Safe Travel through Afghanistan” was invented. Most likely, it was some time in the 60s or 70s, when it was safe to travel in Afghanistan.  Not earlier, given the presence of the Ariana Boeing 727 in the center of the image. Nevertheless, here it is, reproduced in the form of a carpet, probably made in the last few years.

Perhaps it was some mad spirit of ironic optimism that caused this to be transformed into a furry picture?  Or some lost-in-translation lack of understanding of the contemporary implications of the original graphic? Whatever, it certainly confuses one’s understanding of the emblematic use of the map of Afghanistan in all its other different political contexts. No matter what was its makers’ intent, iconophilia here shares it with you (wherever you may be) in our well-intentioned and peaceful tradition of greetings for the festive season…

(and thanks to Rob Little for the photograph).

Move over NY subway grafitti style! Here comes dot-painting…  And if you want to bulk-order your boomerangs, you can go here. These treasures (and the background research) is thanks to Bill Kruse, in Djakarta airport.

Some months ago I wrote about the growing phenomenon of “street art” at the KAF base in Kandahar, in south-eastern Afghanistan. There was even a response to the incarceration of Ai Weiwei here and there on the concrete blast walls.  Now we find the Australian official war artist Ben Quilty getting in on the act. His variation on the Australian coat of arms is a radical challenge to iconographic analysis. While the Australian War Memorial has mentioned his mural in passing in last week’s pre-publicity, we are yet to see them publish a photograph of the work, or to offer an account of the meaning of its symbolism. The inclusion of skulls and serpents (locally symbolising the infidel crusader) may pose a challenge to officialdom. This may yet prove to be the most radical “war art” yet. We look forward to the official account. Here’s what they say thus far… (This photograph was published in Air Force: the official newspaper of the Royal Australian Air Force, (Vol 53, No 22, Nov 24, 2001, p.17).

And this is the first version of the image: the one above has (for better or worse) been made specific to the KAF context:

Ben Quilty, Landcruiser, 2007, Chinese Ink and Gouache on Aquari paper, 188 x 282cm (from the QUT Ben Quilty Interpretative Guide)

This text by Don Walker accompanies the image: “It’s an old trick. Take a universal, publicly owned snatch of melody, fanfare, phrase or image and pervert it. Ben Quilty has used the Australian coat of arms, an image so official and hoary it’s almost invisible, and mounted it on a mesa piled with skulls. The shield-bearers are presented as road-kill, the kangaroo muzzle flattened by a double bogie. Between them now is a cairn of skulls knitted by worms and lies. The crest is a convict shackle, looking as though it was cut from a kerosene tin, just to make it clear that not all the bones belonged to Indigenous Australians. Like most people, Ben Quilty defies caricature. A bogan who chose to pursue a degree in Aboriginal culture. A petrolhead who buys his art supplies at Bunnings, yet carries tiny notebooks full of the most exquisite pen-and-ink sketches of Venice done in his recent youth. Close in, where Quilty works, his paintings look like a bad paving job. Step back twenty feet and he’s caught the whole sorry tale, a country built by the survivors of pogroms, massacres and land clearances elsewhere, who found a haven here on land cleared by massacres of our own.”

The image and text above was found here.

Our translation of the Arabic texts above does not substantiate the claim made in the subtext on this page. The words on the atlas are the names of countries and oceans.  The text above the map on the left wall reads: “What do my enemies do to me, I, [with] my paradise and my orchard…” And above the map on the left the text appears to read: “The Crusaders’ occupation [and the] Muslim’s initiatives”

The former quote would seem to be a version of a text attributed to Ibn Taymiyyah: “What can my enemies do to me? My paradise and garden are in my chest, and do not leave me. My imprisonment is seclusion with Allah, and my death is martyrdom, and my expulsion is tourism.” While it is said that the thoughts of Ibn Taymiyyah have been influential on contemporary fundamentalist thought in Islam, such as Wahhabism and Salafism, the murals above could hardly be seen as targeting instructions…

And Boetti? Clearly, this Mappa has nothing to do with Alighiero Boetti, but it’s a provocative thought, given the claims of contemporary writers to his influence on other aspects of Afghan culture. Relax, we won’t be claiming a connection to al-Qaeda. On the other hand, it is of interest to see how atlas images circulate within Afghanistan.

(This page is from John F. Burns and Ian Fisher (Photographs by Tyler Hicks) Histories are Mirrors: The Path of Conflict through Afghanistan and Iraq. Umbrage Editions, New York.)

We can deduce this photographic postcard of the Khyber Pass was taken at some time before 1923, on the evidence of the Annual Report of The Christian and Missionary Alliance of Chicago, Illinois (1922-23), which reads: “The heroism of our pioneer missionaries shames and stirs us.  How dare we forget those who are invading Moslem strongholds at the peril of their lives!  Can we pray for our paltry needs and forget the missionary who never leaves his home on the frontier of Arabia without giving his wife a farewell kiss, for they both know that, in all probability, some day he will not return?  Can we turn away from the secret place of prayer without thinking of those brave young men who are determined to carry the light into a land at the entrance to which is a placard which reads: “It is absolutely forbidden to cross over this border into Afghan territory”?

The borders of Afghanistan were closed following the 1919 War of Independence (aka the Third Anglo-Afghan War).

…such signs of modernity abound at the University of Nebraska Omaha Library, in the Arthur Paul Afghanistan Collection. The design for this postage stamp was by Victor Vasarely.

This work is by Simon Gende who is a painter who lives and works in Goroka in the PNG highlands.  Tony Oates writes: There are several fascinating things about the work – firstly it is initially quite difficult to read if the artist is pro America or pro terrorist, as the planes causing the destruction feature local tribal highland groups as well as US flag designs.  From my conversions with Simon at the time and looking into his other works, plus the influence of his teacher Mathias Kauage, the painting does not really takes sides but just meant to document the event. So the inclusion of the highlander clans within the planes is pretty much just the way that he has always drawn planes, car or boats (a Kauage-esque style of motif).  Secondly, the airplane itself resonates strongly with the highlanders own history and symbolises how their society has changed so drastically in 60 odd years – their introduction to western civilisation and all contact with the outside world has been through airplanes (no easy road to Port Moresby!). Simon’s other work is often about history of the area and examining social and global issues – there is a real social conscience – you can find a few more of his things on my friend’s website – the other guy worth looking at on this site is Ratoos – some wild paintings (of varying quality)!

The details of the work are as follows: Simon Gende, Long 11-9-2001 tupela balus I bumpim twin tower long U.S.A, 2006
(acrylic on calico) 73 x 113 cm Collection: Tony Oates and Kerryn Wagg

the architect of this UniLodge building in downtown Acton (the west facing wall here photographed at 2.30 on a sunny afternoon) said: “Merde! (he’s from France) We put the sunshades on the wrong way round! Do you think anyone will notice?” (Answer: only the residents. And they’re OK on the other side of the building. And they’re probably OK in France.)

This may have been the same architect who scattered this other kind of ineffectual shading on this other building across the road in the same complex. Clearly the designer does not subscribe to the design aesthetic (or should that now be ethic?) that works to reduce the heat exchange load of a building by designing solar-effective shading. Just provide the politically-correct appearance of same and it will look contemporary enough.

As opposed to the Tax Building in Civic, from the same angle as the first image, which looks good to me in every sense.

A visitor photographs Tracey Emin’s “And I said I love you” at the Frieze Art Fair in Regents Park, central London October 12, 2011. REUTERS/Andrew Winning. By: Mike Collett-White. Via ArtDaily.