An Officer of Civilization

by Nurit Buchweitz

  In this scene, Houellebecq brings together two artists who share an incisive awareness of the art market, an understanding of exactly how it works and who possess the skill to be winning players in it – this they also share with Houellebecq, who “has turned out to have a merchandise value” («Michel Houellebecq est devenu une valeur merchandise»).1 Koons and Hirst have one more thing in common with Houellebecq: they present in their works openly, for all to see, things that are unacceptable in the public sphere, that should remain ab scena (behind the scenes), because they are obscene. Likewise, Houellebecq’s writings hide nothing. On the contrary, they include pornographic sexual descriptions, unabashed depictions of nihilism, misogyny, misanthropy, racism, pedophilia, ‘snuff films’, and more. As was discussed earlier, Houellebecq’s work as a whole represents itself as a commodity that is not independent of market conditions, and ← 97 | 98 → which realizes the commercial potential it embodies by the very fact of its being a commodity. In addition to being a roman à thèse – a philosophical, ideological, sociological, and historical discussion of the various aspects of contemporary Western culture – Houellebecq’s novels also deliberately create a commodity that appears to distance itself intentionally from high art.

  This painting becomes a leitmotif in the book. It is referred to repeatedly, as is Jed’s inability to complete it satisfactorily. Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons Dividing up the Art Market directs our attention to the connection between art and commerce, with which Hirst and Koons are mostly identified; the name Jed itself evokes the names Jeff and Damien, further drawing the reader’s attention to this topic. In The Map and the Territory, Houellebecq offers us a glimpse behind the scenes of the art world: we learn about the material value of pieces of art and the needs of the audience, but also encounter a meta-fictional discussion of Houellebecq’s own art of writing, and a mise-en-abyme of the cultural logic of globalized markets. After all, as Inspector Jasselin encapsulates, “art […] was linked to everything: to dark zones, luminous zones, and intermediary zones.” (Map, p. 210) [«L’art […] était relié à tout: aux zones sombres, aux zones lumineuses, aux zones intermédiaires» (Carte, p. 331)].

  Art is not just the field of pure creativity that one sees on the surface; beneath this are obscured economic considerations. Especially symbolic of this issue is Jed’s success in completing the painting Steve Jobs and Bill Gates Discuss the Future of Computer Science: The Palo Alto Conversation, which becomes his most expensive work of art (selling for a million and a half euros). Just as Houellebecq investigates how the rules of the capitalist economy affect relationships, leisure, and subjectivity in his previous novels, here he demonstrates how the logic of late capitalism has conquered the field of cultural production.

  With its focus on the world of art, in The Map and the Territory Houellebecq draws a map of the artistic territory including the locations of all its players – artists, past and present, fictitious and real; artistic schools and trends; consumers; collectors; gallery owners; dealers; sales promoters; critics; historians and scholars. This map is drawn in the midst of epistemological uncertainty and cartographic instability that governs not only the production of art, but also the circulation of signs in general, as Baudrillard has demonstrated. Moreover, the field of art to which Houellebecq refers is a zone of contact between historical and contemporary cultural logics, as is highlighted by the lengthy discussions between Jed ← 98 | 99 → and his father. Houellebecq’s normative narrative technique is to present dichotomous characters, espousing opposing doctrines, who engage each other in conversation.2 Jed’s father confesses to his son his attraction to pre-Raphaelite art and his aspirations, as a young man, to change the world through creative architecture. That he was obliged to succumb to the practical trends of contemporary architecture during his career became a lifelong source of regret. Jed’s father exposes the cultural logic that draws a fine line between pure art and practical design. His son exists within a different cultural logic, that upon which the novel concentrates: the spatial and temporal disjunction, the collapse of the distance separating art and the market. Contemporary social logics and the increasing proximity between multiple commercial agents and artistic institutions all effect the sphere of creative work.

  This chapter will build on the link established between Houellebecq, Koons, and Hirst at the earliest stage of the narrative; the fact that this occurs at the beginning of the novel grants it the privilege of primacy effect, impressing its significance upon the reader. The thread connecting The Map and the Territory and the works of Hirst and Koons in the novel is voyeurism: this helps us make sense of the recurring references to Jed’s painting of the two artists. Voyeurism is not used here as a concept of clinical pathology (and consequently a criminal offense), but rather in its scholarly sense when applied to current culture, denoting the desire to invade another’s privacy, the craving to sneak a glance at what should not be seen, in particular the radical, banned, or perverse. Among the repeated themes that play a role in voyeurism are death, sex, and violence, as well as personal and family secrets and sensations.3 The dialectic opposite of voyeurism is exhibitionism, i.e. the demonstration of the self: the two complement one another, with exhibitionist and voyeur sometimes cooperating. Reality television, a marker of prevalent culture, is propelled by voyeurism, just as confessional television programs are impelled by exhibitionism. Voyeurism also sustains celebrity culture today.

  The spectator gazes at a piece of art, either literally or metaphorically (if he is reading a book). Gazing is not voyeurism – observing means ← 99 | 100 → to take a positive view, driven by curiosity and a passion for knowledge. Observing a work of art is always permitted; in so doing, the viewer complements the act of creating.4 The viewer becomes a voyeur when a work of art forces him to look at something forbidden, looking at something which in principle no one should see in that context; gazing becomes voyeurism when it appropriates a private area or invades a forbidden space, regardless of whether those being observed are unaware of being observed or have given their consent.5

  The link between Houellebecq, Hirst, and Koons in The Map and the Territory lies in the role these three assign to the viewers/readers of their works – the role of voyeur – as well as their preoccupation with the way art is produced and consumed today, the connection between art and commercialization, and the link between the sublime and commodity. They are all conscious of the commercial sphere within which they operate.

  In the wake of Bourdieu’s theories on the fields of cultural production, explication of the artwork from within itself is insufficient, since if done alone, it ignores the fact that a piece of art is a complex social and institutional framework confirming the sustainability of the field and practice of art. According to Bourdieu, the field of cultural production, which includes art and literature, organizes itself in accordance with the opposition between two sub-fields. The field of production related to high art is restricted, described by Bourdieu as production for producers. In this realm, competition between producers is mainly symbolic: at stake are prestige, veneration, and artistic fame. By contrast, the field of large-scale production, which touches upon popular art or mass culture, is ruled by capital or the financial “bottom line”.6 When the field belongs to producers, i.e. the artists, the principle that ‘the loser wins’ is at work, indicating an inverted economic world, with the principles of conventional economics having systematically been turned on their heads. These include the principles of business – since there is no guaranteed connection between creation and monetary profit; power struggles – since the condemnation of honor ← 100 | 101 → and equanimity stands in the face of temporary greatness; and authority – because the absence of academic training or devotion to a profession is perceived as a virtue.7

  Bourdieu associates the concept of the pure gaze with the restricted field of art, with art for art’s sake: that which characterizes the cultural appreciation of a piece of art and focuses on form rather than function
. This gaze emerged and developed from the 1840s onward with the genesis of an autonomic field of art.8 Evidently, in recent decades the art world has been marked by the entry of commercial bodies that do not value art for itself but only for its economic value.9 The art market has thus witnessed a conspicuous shift in the distinction between high and popular. Moreover, this market mixes art with fashion, business, and celebrity, altering the artistic discourse, infiltrating it with advertising jargon to the point that “by the turn of the century the language of money has become the lingua franca of the art world.”10 In discussions of the measurability of the art market, especially “in a market 52 percent of which is essentially invisible”11 in terms of financial transactions, particular attention is paid to Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons and their relation to the commoditization of contemporary art.12 ← 101 | 102 →

  The viewer/reader of the works of Houellebecq, Koons, and Hirst starts out by applying a model regarding the context in which canonical art is consumed (the museum, or publishing house in the case of belles lettres). Consumption is public and open and, accordingly, canonical art is never consumed in the dark. The exhibitionist or coarse materials of these artistic pieces, however, and the context of their consumption, cause the viewer/reader to be watched by spectators as he consumes the materials, thus transforming the viewer/reader into a voyeur, someone committing a forbidden act, a transgression; trespassing into the illegitimate.13 Likewise, the spectators, in turn, also become voyeurs. The viewer/reader senses this transition, and feels embarrassment as the observed object simultaneously attracts him and evokes feelings of shame and guilt. A viewer/reader who performs the role of voyeur properly, who is both moved and embarrassed by the work of art, is a condition for achieving a loss of intellectual and emotional direction, which is characteristic of the work of these three artists. Yet this is not the essential and genuine obscenity here; rather, the effective obscenity is the exposure of hidden market rules.

  Houellebecq, Koons, and Hirst all trespass from the sub-field of high art in which they work into that of mass consumption, thereby exposing that which is obvious in the world of contemporary art. Behind the obscenities with which the works are subsumed – sexual and morbid – lies a deeper and greater obscenity that conceals its hidden opposite: this too is controlled by the market economy; all the more so since this market has nothing to do with real interest in art or real appreciation of a piece.14

  It is worthwhile lingering on the two artists referred to so frequently in The Map and the Territory, since their artistic acts are immensely instructive concerning those of Houellebecq himself. ← 102 | 103 →

  The Self-Exploitation of Jeff Koons

  The painting Hand on Breast (1990) from Koons’s exhibition Made in Heaven (the title alludes to the ideal of a match made in heaven) depicts Koon and his then wife, porn star and Italian member of parliament, Ilona Staller (also known as ‘La Cicciolina’), engaged in a variety of sexual acts. The insertion of the artist and his life into a work of art appeals to the viewer’s voyeurism with the magnetic power of pornography.

  Koons himself claimed that this painting displays love: “I’m not involved in pornography […]. Pornography is just performing a sexual act. It really has no interest for me. I’m interested in love, I’m interested in reunion, I’m interested in the spiritual […]. So when the viewer sees it, they are in the realm of the Sacred Heart of Jesus”.15 That being said, what the viewer sees are clearly pornographic images, and even more significantly, Hand on Breast causes the viewer to invade the most private aspect of the artist’s (and his wife’s) life, which is also that most closely associated with voyeurism – a display of sex.

  Beyond the theme of voyeurism per se, every object in the exhibition Made in Heaven is staged so as to entice the audience into watching the couple. Rather than intimate, the couple’s relations are depicted as standard, based on the conventions of pornographic representation: this finds expression in close-up shots of erogenous body parts, makeup, accessories, long fingernails, fishnet stockings, costumes, and poses typical of the genre and more. Koons exploits his wife’s well-known body; in the pictures she does not appear merely as the artist’s wife, but rather as La Cicciolina, with all her body’s erotic and scopophilic functions. Koons himself appears shaped and stylized, ready for the shooting, his hair carefully coifed, showing his best side. This is the aesthetics of kitsch16 and the two are connected in their theatricality, extravagance, and emotionalism. The style and polish of the scenes point to the artificiality of their beauty (in the statues and shiny, polished objects). The design, including flowers and butterflies in cloying colors, is intended to lure the viewer. The theme of voyeurism is firmly established when the image of Koons looks directly ← 103 | 104 → at the viewer. This is a game of gazes, in which Koons himself plays the main role – the viewer looks at the picture, a scene that causes him discomfort, and the artist observes him watching, exposing him as a voyeur.

  By turning the viewer into voyeur, Koons in fact demonstrates that he is aware of his reliance on a consumer audience. To some extent, the idea of exploitation hovers over Koons’s work due to the introduction of seductive elements. This is exploitation – for the purposes of fame – of the self. The result is that we no longer see Jeff Koons the artist and person but rather ‘Jeff Koons’ the image, a merging of the self and the product, a design aimed to create an attractive image for the audience, as in an advertisement. This distances one from a narrative of authenticity and moves towards the manipulation of the self-image. Koons continually reminds us of the existence of the audience, to the point that he becomes dependent on this audience’s loyalty. Likewise, this is hinted at by the fact that the exposed self is engaged in mainstream heterosexuality, an unthreatening representation of sex, rather than something deviant or perverse; it maintains boundaries within the transgression.

  All this serves to distort the ideal of artistic autonomy upon which the restricted field of art rests – the commercial market that exists underneath the overt production for producers. Koons’s zeal to participate in the market is expressed also by means of the poster advertisement for the exhibition (Made in Heaven [Billboard], 1989), which was designed to resemble a movie poster and displayed on a huge billboard in Times Square. This reflects Koons’s understanding that in order to exist as a viable subject of art, one must participate in the market, collaborate with it, or at the very least part of one’s practice must conduct an active relationship with it. Traditional ideas of authenticity, originality, and intimacy are replaced by concepts of exposure. Koons turns the viewer into voyeur by exploiting the normative rules of the market.

  The visual intertextuality underlying Koons’s work also alludes to this theme. The drawing evokes the work of Édouard Manet, in particular his portrait Nana (1877), the subject of which is a half-naked (in 19th-century terms) courtesan who gazes directly into the eyes of the viewer, offering herself as an object for sale, and thereby blurring the viewer’s role; he is a voyeur and she knows it. Not only is the content of the painting relevant as an intertext, but also its history: it was rejected by the Parisian Salon and perceived as an obscene abomination, as non-art, a commercialized piece that satisfied the tastes of the hoi polloi. After its rejection by the Paris ← 104 | 105 → Salon, Manet hung it in a Parisian passage, thus transforming both art and the work of art itself into commodities. Another case of intertextuality in Koons’s work, as communicated by both the color key of Koons’s picture and its composition, is Red Grooms’s pop art painting of Hollywood stars, Hollywood (Jean Harlow) (1965). This is an ambivalent representation of the commercialization of art, of turning art into a mass-market product. The painting portrays the glamorous life of the entertainment world, posed so that its aesthetic language is entirely drawn from the immediate lure of popular culture.

  In Hand on Breast, Koons undermines the accepted mode of presenting relationships between couples, based on the right of the artist’s sexuality to shatter the
boundaries of shame concealing the pursuit of sex. Nevertheless, Koons expresses a desire to use these images in order to penetrate the cultural economics of the field and prevail. In this manner, Koons’s work utilizes market mechanisms in order to achieve goals that are simultaneously profitable and subversive.17

  The real, and significant, obscenity in the work by Koons is that he exposes the field of art for what it actually is. As Koons himself commented, “Ilona and I were born for each other.18 She’s a media woman. I’m a media man. We are the contemporary Adam and Eve”.19 He further added, “I believe artists must exploit themselves, and take the responsibility to exploit their viewers”.20

  Damien Hirst’s Prettification of the Obscene

  Similarly to Koons, Damien Hirst’s public image is that of a self-made man, an image associated with business rather than the artistic world. ← 105 | 106 → His reputation is that of an exhibitor, entrepreneur, and self-promoter, in addition to his work as an artist.21

  The artwork The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living (1992), as other works by Hirst, is a large-scale spectacle of death, more akin to the type of exhibit one might expect to find in a museum of science than a museum of art. A dead shark, preserved in formaldehyde, has been placed inside an industrially manufactured metal and glass container, a hybrid combination of a minimalist cube and a forensic display case. The sculpture objectifies death, frames it, and keeps the image in sharp focus – like a camera eye – with the object exactly at the center. The shark is balanced in equilibrium, suspended in the center of the container, as if kept afloat by its life force and natural surroundings.