In the John Kennedy Toole novel, A Confederacy of Dunces (1980), there lives a character named Ignatius Jacques Reilly, un ugly, obese, slothful, and arrogant thirty-year-old man who is unemployed and still lives withhis mother. Feeling like he belongs He’s huge, ugly, lazy, and nowhere, the character loathes and mocks the society in his room.

One day, this self-isolating, misanthropic, and pessimistic man finds himself in a situation when forced to make money, and tries to do so in various ways: he becomes a factory worker (or more likely, a labour activist), writes speeches and letters, throw parties, and sells hot dogs carrying around a ridiculously decorated cart. As the man thought of capitalistic desires as perverted, his trials to make money ended up incomelessless, and this situation came to intermingle and collude with all aspects of society.

To be clear, there is no such thing as outside the market. We all are shoppers and sellers at the same time. The market which never allows the ‘outside world’ to exist separately, or more favourably, an energetic world of hostility, invites individuals to be a part of the anonymous crowd. This generous and at the same time hollow world includes positive and negative tensions and compulsions, alienations and losses, segregations and competitions.

Within this paradox of generosity, crowds are linked both directly and indirectly through many relationships that are explained as individuals and groups, peculiarities and generalities, consumption and production, and etc. Realizing themselves as a member of the market, they strive to improve their values as human capitals and to earn economic gains for themselves.

It would be wrong to assume that art is unrelated to the market. Modern art was undoubtedly born along with the paradigm of secularity. Modern art galleries built ‘rooms’ designed after the living spaces of the 19th century bourgeoisie, and filled the rooms with works in different styles and from different eras, presenting a history of visuality.By the early 20th century, modern arts turned out to be a product, something special and weird, and it is an undeniable fact that they remain a target of speculation and investment to this date.

As the repeated monotonous discourses on the end of art, per se, have become a history, it is hard to deny that contemporary art has now become more of a worldwide business for cultural experiences than a public sphere for (anti)historical discussions. Various art gallery programs ― large-scale art museums that build annexes in cities all around the world and open yoga classes, landmark art museums that were built to revitalize their run-down local economies, and private art galleries that seem to aim for zero visitors ― as well as exotic scenes that are mainly spotted in Biennales and art fairs seem to value culture and public, entertainment and capital (including speculations and taxes) more than individual audiences and works of art.

Recently, certain parts of the Korean artworld seem to be repeating history by reenacting the aforementioned movements packed in a short period of time. MMCA overreach to build annexes, and the disappointed voices towards Biennales and art fairs are of the same melody, only with different lyrics. The phenomenon surrounding Frieze Seoul, which began in 2022, is no different. While large-scale galleries settled in Seoul, the domestic art market as well as public institutions invested to change and rebuild their programmes’ aim, style, and schedule with different intentions, objectives, and fantasies.

However, as GDP cannot speak for the material wealth levels of individual citizens, the blatant expansion of the market does not always go together with the individuals in it. The large galleries opened newly in Seoul do not really care about domestic arts, and even the domestic artworld itself seems to be indulging in the tongue of entertainment and spectacles and focused on participating in the centre of the market rather than closely examining its internal affairs. As a result, “some” arts are left unnoticed. Nevertheless, this market of which everybody is a member ― common enough to be called a cliché ― would rather focus on ancient questions such as “Will this market function properly?” and “How on earth would that be possible?”

《DERBY MATCH: WATCHMAN AND SPY》 would rival with the soon to be heated art market of September 2023 and the peculiar phenomenon surrounding it. A derby match refers to a rival match in sports, especially in soccer, between two different teams that are close together geographically. However, the key strategy to this derby is nothing but to “take part.” What does this phrase (seemingly foreshadowing defeat) mean in such a tense rivalry game? First of all, the exhibition makes it clear that the place of the match (the market) is a space for everyone, not owned by anyone: a “Derby Match” is literally held in the same region.

And rather than focusing on brutally defeating opponents, the match highlights that each other’s opponents are not so different to themselves: the series of phenomena that revolve around the market are directly related to everyone here and now. While the strategy for this match is not aggressive or subversive, it seeks to violate and at the same time utilize opponents who do not allow exclusion and separation. Just like the Watchman and Spy do.

Artists who indulge in various media, styles, and themes participate in the exhibition: Muyeong Kim, Seeun Kim, Wonjin Kim, Taedong Kim, Issac Moon, Wunggyu Park, Hyeran Park, Vagyoomoo, Hocheol Shin, Chorong An, eobchae, Kai Oh, Jungmin Oh, Jeisung Oh, Miryu Yoon, Hyunsoo Lee, Nosik Lim, Doen Jang, Seo Young Chang, Hyerim Jun, Kyeongbin Jeong, Eugene Jung, Taehoon Choi, Jihyoung Han (a total of 24 people/teams). And Curators based in seoul write essays for the exhibition book: No-Won Kwak, Malgeum Kim, Mijung Kim, Jinjoo Kim, Hyun Jeong Moon, Hyung Shin Yoon (Ho Cheon Yoon), Minjoo Lee, Jintaeg Jang, Seawoo Chung, Yuki Konno, Hojeong Hur (a total of 11 people). At this exhibition/market, set up as a public domain of sorts, where actual sales would take place, gathered participants seem to play alone at first glance, unrelated to the space or to the others.

In fact, most of the participating artists have no real market experience, such as selling works, and they do not share any special solidarity or bond regardless of it. It can be said that each of them has continued creating their own art, and though the degrees and types are varied, some have received constant and sometimes much attention from the market. Nevertheless, they are somewhat distanced from the aforementioned quirks of the art market. Artists in the exhibition become aware of the fact that they are distanced from a certain market but at the same time engage as participants, causing an anonymous crowd, a two-faced, arbitrary existence, to thoroughly examine their own status.

Hoping to reveal new forms of contemporary tensions, Derby Match: Watchman and Spy  evidently positions itself as a market, and encourages the artists to enter this market place. Within this clarity, the artists partially or completely recognize their special relationship with the market in their own ways. Some reject the market and others show how intimate they are with it. Some mock, admire, ignore, and obsess over it. Others would self-deprecatingly stare at their opponents.

What’s clear from this, they do not shortsightedly lean toward either “destruction” or “creation” in market affairs, and rather than expecting immediate results, they measure its internal/external effects based on the theme and form of their previous works. In other words, the exhibition’s strategy to “take part” reaffirms the – subtle – existence that continuously checks the distance between itself and the market. That existence just might be upcoming movements of potential, if not youth or novelty.

These movements are lined up in the exhibition under the same conditions. All works, no matter their size, theme, or medium, are tightly hung and put on the same line. Through this, the exhibition attempts to display the market as a public space and show the individuals/groups out of it. As a singular event and a response to the tradition of “rooms” that embody the history of art and to the “show rooms” from art fairs, the exhibit quite aggressively eliminates all directions on presenting image/substance.

Perhaps this may be another spectacular strategy that would counter the market spectacle, but without the spangles or fantasies. This is also applied in performances of Muyeong Kim and (   )(Rakta, Minhee Park, Joyul, Hwi) which would be parts of this exhibition. These visualities of the exhibition would partially result in giving up the traditional atmosphere of exhibition that is aesthetic and contemplative, but at the same time evidently display this loss. The exhibit aspires to function as a window or a mirror, a dual space in which both sides are simultaneously recognized, where the viewers are encouraged to speculate on the current situation they are faced with.

The double tension that occurs in the process of checking the distance and reaffirming the existence related to the exhibition/market leads to another space: the exhibition book, at the end of the show. To be precise, it is lifted and newly organized. The 11 curators who participate as writers conduct free writing in their positions, and the works of the participating artists can be their starting point. Through various approaches and propositions, articles that would issue the world outside of and after the exhibition/market disassociate the art works from clarity or misuse.. This dissociation would probably fail to be a complete success, but there is no reason not to try. Though it may not be a heroic achievement, the attempt would escape from the incontestable truth of the spectacle, and provide a path that heads towards varying times, the now, and individuals.

The act of “taking parttaking part” referenced in Derby Match: Watchman and Spy takes a much clearer form than expected. It follows a strategy of protocol instead of unconditionally criticizing or attacking the opponent. It accepts the inevitability that is found in the peculiar phenomenon of the art market in September with pleasure and aspires to mimic its fashion. Surely there is a certain urge to criticize and dismantlein this scheme. That urge evaporates as soon as it is audibly expressed, but the space of mimicry that is soon to be closed is quite vast; more than one can imagine.

In that space, you might not successfully overthrow the opponent, but would speculate upon and dwell on it. In the same process, participants of the exhibition may become watchmen or spies who conceal their faces. Return to A Confederacy of Dunces, Ignatius attempts a dual collusion by diving into the world, which he labels as full of fools, where he himself is labeled a fool. He fails to find any real gains, but there remain a messy comedy, gleaming episodes, and touching, tearful scenes and lines.

Both parties who attempt to mimic and those who observe indulge in the excitement and tension of the market. We hope that our camouflage, which needs not one but many interpreting methods, to shine, and that beyond the uniform generality, clear acts and movements of individuals would be noticed. Do chase the footsteps of (exhibit-less) exhibitions and (sale-less) sales that confront and mimic the market and fantasize about a second scheme; thus attract the phenomena around them and re-solve the shattered puzzles.
 

Artist: Muyeong Kim, Seeun Kim, Wonjin Kim, Taedong Kim, Isaac Moon, Wunggyu Park, Hyeran Park, Vagyoomoo, Hocheol Shin, Chorong An, eobchae, Kai Oh, Jungmin Oh, Jeisung Oh, Miryu Yoon, Hyunsoo Lee, Nosik Lim, Doen Jang, Seo Young Chang, Hyerim Jun, Kyeongbin Jeong, Eugene Jung, Taehoon Choi, Jihyoung Han

References

• 《더비 매치 : 감시자와 스파이 (DERBY MATCH: WATCHMAN AND SPY)》