The following text is an English version of an exposition that was published in Ruukku the Finnish Journal of artistic research in 2016.
I present in my text how the imagery of real socialism, sociological methods, and drawing form an interdisciplinary research entity. The research process advances through examining and drawing research material. The analysis of the material also takes place through drawing. In this text, I verbalize and illustrate different phases of the research process, research methods influencing my approach, and politically relevant history related to the topic, mainly in the contexts of the now-deceased socialist periodicals (GDR-Revue and the Soviet Union). Alongside the drawn conclusions, I also provide a verbal conclusion. But first, let’s return to the time when real socialism reached its end.
On Friday, November 10, 1989, Finnish evening news reported about the carnival atmosphere in Berlin. I remember the images of people climbing over the Berlin Wall. The fall of the wall marked the end of the Cold War. The journey of the German Democratic Republic (GDR), founded in 1949 – commonly referred to as East Germany – came to an end in October 1990. Around the same time, other so-called East Bloc people’s democracies also came to an end. The dissolution of the Soviet Union in December 1991 was the final nail in the coffin of real socialism in Europe. The collapse of real socialism was an unparalleled event in world history. There was even talk of the end of history. (See Fukuyama 1992.)
The concept of real socialism was introduced in the Soviet Union and the Eastern Bloc people’s democracies in the 1970s. The term was used to express the practical construction of socialism, existing socialism in reality, as opposed to theoretical socialisms, China’s unique approach to building socialism, or the idea of human-faced socialism. At the heart of real socialism was the idea of common ownership of means of production, such as factories, and the aim to have workers organize societal production.
There has been extensive writing on the reasons for the collapse of real socialism. The main reasons are considered to be the weaknesses of the socialist economic system compared to the capitalist economic system, and the disregard of those in power for the functioning of everyday life. (Lebowitz 2012.)
The collapse had diverse impacts on people. On one hand, it enabled free travel. Family members separated by walls and borders finally got to meet each other. On the other hand, the collapse also led to the loss of jobs, properties, and life’s work. For some, the opening of borders offered tremendous business opportunities, while others faced unemployment and the persistent differences between the East and West, which, for example in Germany, have not completely closed even now. Anders Østergaard and Erzsébet Rácz’s drama documentary “1989” highlights the consequences of the collapse of real socialism. The documentary has been shown on Finnish television channel Yle Teema.
I first traveled to Berlin in 2003. Since then, I have visited the city multiple times. In the spring of 2005, I lived there for three months in an artist’s residency. On each visit, the city’s history has held me firmly in its grip. It’s as if I’ve been trying to reach that time and place that the November 1989 news images depicted. I’ve cycled along the former path of the Wall. I’ve visited the Stasi Museum and the Soviet Soldiers Memorial in Treptow. I saw the Palace of the Republic before its demolition and witnessed its dismantling on-site. I’ve been to the German Historical Museum, the GDR Museum, and explored the former East Berlin extensively. In the fall of 2014, I marveled at the absent Lenin statue in Friedrichshain, and in August 2016, I visited Berlin’s 9th Biennale. One of the exhibition venues was the former building of the East German Council of Ministers.
Between 2005 and 2009, I created some works related to the history of East Germany (GDR). However, my in-depth research into the imagery of real socialism truly began when I became acquainted with a magazine called GDR-Revue (published in Finnish as DDR-Revue). GDR-Revue was an illustrated periodical that was published in multiple languages from 1956 to 1990. In the early 1960s, the magazine also started to be published in Finnish. According to historian Seppo Hentilä, GDR-Revue closely resembled the content and appearance of Neuvostoliitto tänään (Soviet Union Today) magazine. “Both were the messengers of their respective countries’ official foreign propaganda, containing only stories that had passed through the strictest filter of correctness,” he writes. GDR-Revue had a monthly circulation of about four million copies. In the early 1970s, around 2600 subscribers in Finland received the magazine. The final issue was published in July 1990. Neuvostoliitto tänään magazine was published by the Soviet Embassy. Neuvostoliitto (Soviet Union), on the other hand, was the successor to the USSR in Construction magazine initiated by Maxim Gorky in 1930. Neuvostoliitto tänään and Neuvostoliitto were published in Finnish from 1957 to 1991. (See image 2. and 3.) Readers remember Neuvostoliitto mainly for its high-quality photojournalism. It was a large-format magazine. In comparison, GDR-Revue appears modest.
In the realm of these mentioned periodicals, my primary interest did not lie in the contents of the articles. Instead, I paid attention to how the editors of the magazines chose to represent real socialism through words and images. The so-called selected reality began to intrigue me. It wasn’t about what real socialism truly was, but rather about how it was desired to appear. I was dealing with something almost imaginary: an aesthetics that was political and thoroughly ideological, yet ultimately utopian. Despite the fact that the contents of GDR-Revue and the Soviet Union Magazine were conspicuously selective, propagandistic, and Marxist-Leninist, what stands out is the prevailing utopianism – an unwavering aspiration towards a better world free from exploitation, fear, scarcity, and inequality. In other words, I find glimpses of a meaningful future in the past: in addition to GDR-Revue and the Soviet Union Magazine, I also found materials in the cultural notebooks of the 1970s and 80s, and in illustrated books depicting the ideal version of the GDR, such as “Deutsche Demokratische Republik” or the introductory book “GDR esittäytyy” (GDR Presents Itself). This selective reality and material depicting an imagined future became my research material. Instead of collecting material in libraries and archives, I acquired my material from online second-hand shops and auctions. I placed the material in my studio, surrounding myself with it on tables, walls, and shelves. I started to examine the material and wonder: what does the imagery of real socialism signify? Could there be something beyond the overtly ideological and mostly untrue material – something more than just a failed utopia or the typical characteristics of a certain era and political direction? I set out to find answers to these questions by selecting and categorizing images. In other words, I created a few collages, but mostly I drew. However, sociological methods remained as inseparable from me as the pencil.
[1] Hentilä writes how at the “East Germany Cultural Center” in Hakaniemi, Helsinki, visitors’ bags were always filled with GDR propaganda. “There was plenty of it available in Finnish as well. The dearest handbook for every friend of the GDR was called ‘GDR Presents Itself’. Its first edition was from 1965, and by 1972, it had reached its 11th edition in 21 languages. The booklet meticulously introduced the area, population, history, state and society, politics, foreign policy, economy, education system, science, culture, healthcare, social policies, sports, and leisure of the GDR. The reader was left with no doubt about which was the model country of socialism and which part of Germany in 1945 had drawn the ‘correct conclusions’ from history. In the early 1970s, the Cultural Center had an abundance of Finnish publications that praised GDR’s achievements in various aspects of societal life.” (Hentilä 2004, 75–77.) (See Image 4.)
At the core of my artist-researcher identity lies the desire to first understand the research problem and then consider what kind of material and method could unravel the problem. Method-driven research doesn’t resonate with me; it feels mechanical. I thus agree with philosopher Toivo Salonen’s critical view of research, which, according to him, is not about “applying existing scientific and objectively perceived methods to solve research tasks, but about continually producing methods and interpreting them in a fresh way based on the research problem.” (Salonen 2007, 54.) In other words, inspired by Salonen’s perspective, I think that a researcher is not merely a user of tools, but also someone who develops methods within their field and generates important discussions for the advancement of their field.
In the history of philosophy, ideology critique is closely associated with the emphasis of classical German philosophy. Ideology critique is a tradition within social philosophy that carries emancipatory and revolutionary undertones. While Marx and Engels are rightfully considered the “fathers” of the concept of “ideology” and ideology critique, the term “ideology” has older origins. For instance, Enlightenment thinkers like Immanuel Kant encouraged people to boldly use their own reason. According to Kant (2007, 87), Enlightenment was humanity’s emergence from a self-imposed state of immaturity. Immaturity, for Kant, meant the inability to use one’s own reason without guidance from others. Marx and Engels continued the critical legacy of Enlightenment: they labeled the social-historical fog that obstructed the free use of reason as ideology. [2]
At the core of Marx and Engels’ ideology critique was a sharp polemic directed at the Young Hegelians. They criticized the Young Hegelians for reducing metaphysical, political, juridical, and moral concepts to religious or theological viewpoints: dogmas. According to Marx and Engels, the Young Hegelians engaged in detached or abstract phraseology and failed to bring forth anything concrete: “Not a single philosopher has raised the question of the connection of German philosophy with German reality, the question of the relation of their criticism to their own material surroundings.” (Marx & Engels 1978, 71.) This critical tone is also evident in Marx’s 11th Thesis on Feuerbach, which targeted the same Young Hegelian trend. The demand for philosophy to be linked to concrete, world-changing genuine political activism is firm. (Marx 1978; Bloch 1985, 288–334; Bloch 1986, 249–286.) Additionally, Marx’s first volume of Capital can be read as a classic of ideology critique, apart from its established interpretation in economics. In it, Marx attacks the ideology of the market by criticizing the concept of exchange and the principle of equivalence or identity. (Jameson 2011, 17.)
After Marx and Engels, ideology critique took on other interesting nuances, such as Georg Lukács’ thoughts on reification and Max Weber’s views on rationalization. This is where the roots of critical discourse analysis become apparent. In observing the process of reification, attention is drawn to how objectification affects the mind, human experience, and the nature and structure of subjectivity; and consequently, how it manifests in cultural products and thought. (Jameson 2010, 329.) However, Marx and Engels’ ideology critique retains a quite stark tone, which doesn’t significantly diminish in orthodox Marxists like V. I. Lenin or Louis Althusser, let alone in the “Frankfurt School” thinkers such as Adorno, Horkheimer, and Marcuse. For them, ideology mainly represents false consciousness: errors, mystification, and the interests of the ruling elite, about which there is essentially nothing positive to be said. (See Horkheimer & Adorno 2008; Marcuse 1969; Althusser 1984.) Ernst Bloch’s ideology critique, on the other hand, is much more nuanced. He also considers manipulation and control techniques to be ideological – false and mystified – supporting the power of the ruling elite. However, Bloch pays attention to the utopian residues or traces present in ideologies, where possibilities for alternative social criticism and progressive politics lie hidden. Bloch found these traces in fairy tales, visual arts, and political programs, even in those that could be strongly ideological or stifling for the individual. (Bloch 1985, 169–180; Bloch 1986, 149–158.)
Contemporary ideology critique is distinctly aimed at markets and neoliberal economic policies and their consequences across almost all aspects of life. The focus is new, but the foundation is old: the target of criticism remains capitalism. According to Jameson, the dominant ideology of our time can be found in the concept of “markets,” which he argues has been generalized into a metaphysical principle and an eternal trait of human nature on a global scale. (Jameson 2010, 362–363.) A similar assessment of markets is presented by Michael Krätke (2011, 177), who suggests that presenting the power of markets as an inevitable competitive space that everyone must participate in is based on objectification and naturalization. In 21st-century ideology critique, the goal is to identify various attempts at reification, universalisation, rationalisation, and perpetuation – in other words, to read and interpret the manifestations of ideology from various visual and verbal materials, primarily within the framework of market discourse and often from an economic political standpoint. This essentially enters the realm of critical discourse analysis.
[2] The concept history of ideology is complex, and the term itself carries numerous meanings. Due to its breadth, it’s impossible to address this evolution in this context. (See Eagleton 1991; Jameson 2010, 313–363; Thompson 1990; Lampela 2012, 44–49.)
From a discourse analytic perspective, ideology critique can be termed critical discourse, with its main starting points being the interest and value-laden nature of the object under examination – whether they are texts, practices, images, etc. Ideology critique isn’t a research method per se; it’s more closely related to a critical way of examining the world, particularly within the Marxist tradition of philosophy and debate. Discourse analysis, on the other hand, is a specialized social science research method, especially oriented towards textual materials, where echoes of key ideology-critical voices are sometimes heard. (See, for example, Fairclough 2004; Foucault 2005.) Discourse analysts have predominantly focused on the relationships between words and things – often the use of words and power. In other words, they’ve examined modes of discourse in relation to various contexts, interests, and objectives.
For instance, Anu-Liisa Rönkä and Anja Kuhalampi (2011) define speech they heard in the TAIKA project [3] into four discourses, which are distinguished based on the domain of use and the underlying objective of the speech. These discourses are the sacred, economic, well-being, and societal discourses. With the sacred discourse, Rönkä and Kuhalampi refer to speech that emphasizes the autonomy of art. The economic discourse, according to them, involves speech that seeks to promote the use of art outside the traditional art context. In the well-being discourse, Rönkä and Kuhalampi mean speech that emphasizes the role of art as a tool for promoting health and well-being. The societal discourse, as understood by Rönkä and Kuhalampi, is speech that aims to equate artistic activity with other societal activities and integrate art discussions into other current topics of conversation. (Rönkä & Kuhalampi 2011, 32–34.)
Anna-Kaisa Rastenberger and Juha Suonpää have both focused on issues like naturalization within the context of contemporary Finnish photography art. According to Rastenberger (2006), The Helsinki School brand naturalizes the connection between photographic artworks and geographical location by repeatedly propagating the idea that specific geographical or climatic areas give rise to certain mentalities, which in turn give rise to a certain type of art. In his book “Valokuva on IN” (Photography is IN), Suonpää questions how photography becomes contemporary art. His starting point is that photography doesn’t inherently become contemporary art. In order to grant photography the status of contemporary art, it is made into contemporary art: by relying on various discursive strategies, photography is rhetorically constructed as contemporary art and a leading force in Finnish contemporary art. Suonpää suggests that the success of Finnish photographic art is also portrayed as happening naturally or as a consequence of aesthetic quality: “The rhetoric found in Finnish publications that implies a miracle or golden age of photographic art narrows down photography’s status both as contemporary art and as a distinct form of photographic art, which establishes its own aesthetic logic. Entities that distribute grants for photographic art, educational institutions specializing in photography, gallery owners, critics, and research activities related to photography all form a structure closely associated with photographic art. Turning photography into acknowledged art is a rhetorical project that inherently involves concealing rhetorical influence and presenting success and recognition as a natural outcome of the images’ aesthetic quality.” (Suonpää 2011, 25.)
In the book “Valokuva on IN,” Suonpää’s own photographs also play a significant role, but his discourse analysis focuses on newspaper articles concerning Finnish photographic art. As I mentioned earlier in this chapter, however, discourse analysis is not solely aimed at written materials. Analyzing visual materials through a discourse lens has long been a part of academic discourse. (See, for example, Rossi & Seppä 2007; Rose 2001.) When it comes to images – and especially in the context of my own research material: the imagery of real socialism – I prefer to use the term “representation analysis.”
[3] The TAIKA project (2008–2013) investigated the effectiveness of art-based methods in work communities. The project was carried out in collaboration with multiple educational institutions (University of Helsinki, Palmenia Education and Development Centre, Diaconia University of Applied Sciences, Lahti University of Applied Sciences, University of Lapland’s Faculty of Social Sciences, Theatre Academy of the University of the Arts Helsinki, Turku University of Applied Sciences’ Arts Academy). TAIKA projects organized artistic activities in over 20 workplaces. The goals included developing product innovation and customer service, enhancing managerial and leadership practices, enriching internal workplace interactions, and strengthening community bonds. In the social and healthcare sector, a specific aim was to develop a mentoring system related to artistic activities. (For more information, see TAIKA 2008–2013.)
As a visual artist, I began to ponder: how would an approach emphasizing text and language work with images? Of course, images have been interpreted for decades using language and text, but could there be a method that has a sensitivity specifically to recognizing the meanings represented by images? I found a foothold in the realm of representation analysis. According to Katve-Kaisa Kontturi, “Representation analysis, or the study of what images depict and represent, has become a routine method through which an artwork is opened up as a process, and through which changing meanings are examined and dissected.” (Kontturi 2012.) Representation analysts primarily examine images and artworks as researchers. The researcher is the subject and the research subject is the object, deviating from the conventional academic research approach. In this regard, my research framework is similar, but the explication of the research takes place through artistic work by looking at and drawing the images under study.
The ideological-critical and discourse-analytical background is evident in my representation analysis, through which I examine the imagery of real socialism. My gaze reveals inherent strategies of objectification, perpetuation, naturalization, rationalization, and generalization within the imagery. My gaze and drawing work also bring forth something constructive and hopeful alongside the negative attributes, in other words, utopian remnants or utopian function. In this way, I lean towards Bloch’s dialectically sensitive ideology critique.
From spring to December 2012, I created a piece using colored and graphite pencils, which I titled “Total Surveillance is Possible,” inspired by a headline from GDR-Revue. (See image 5.) I adopted the compositional principle of the Rodchenko-Lissitzky-Stepanova method, a technique commonly used in early photomontage and the graphic design of magazines like “Neuvostoliitto rakentaa.” This method involves filling the image surface partially or entirely with heads. (See Margolin 1997, 190; 202–203.) Following the same compositional approach, I created two smaller collages, “Solidaarisuus on voimaa” (Solidarity is Strength) and “Palava halu toteuttaa huominen jo tänään” (Burning Desire to Realize Tomorrow Today), using scissors, newspapers, books, and glue. (See images 6 and 7.)
Then, I picked up a ballpoint pen and drew two small works: “Nuorison ystävyys vaikuttaa kauas tulevaisuuteen” (Youth Friendship Reaches Far into the Future) in blue and “Jedem seinen Beruf?” (To Each His Profession?) in black. (See images 8 and 9.) For these works, I filled the entire image space, leaving no blank areas. Next, I created two open diagonal compositions, “Es ist schön, wenn man alles meistert!” (It’s Beautiful When You Master Everything!) in blue ballpoint pen and “Yhdessä voitamme” (Together We Win) in red ballpoint pen. (See images 10 and 11.)
Following this, I completed two larger works, “Miten kirkkaana aurinko paistoikaan…” (How Brightly the Sun Shone…) in graphite pencil and “Rajattomien mahdollisuuksien maa” (Land of Boundless Possibilities) using colored and graphite pencils. (See images 12 and 13.)
The titles of all these works are direct quotes from the headlines of GDR-Revue and Neuvostoliitto. The quotation marks are essential in the titles of the works. I borrowed the German titles directly from German-language GDR-Revue issues.
The works I’ve listed represent the sorting of the research material. I separated from the material images in which people reach towards a better tomorrow through their expressions and poses. I then aimed to maximize the utopian quality of the images by grouping them together.