SHEBER.
THE BODY AND RITUALS
THE BODY AND RITUALS
In a work by the Chinese artists Sun Yuan and Peng Yu, shown at the Venice Biennale in 2019, a robot machine mesmerizingly and unsuccessfully tries to wipe up a pool of blood. The piece captures well our anxiety about the future of manual labor in an increasingly automated and globalized world, while also revealing a "blood" residue that resists automation altogether.
Watching the video documentation of that work, I think of my great-grandfather. He was a craftsman, - a sheber. He made the finest horse harnesses and saddles of his time, and sewed and painted wedding dresses and ornaments. I know of him through the memories of my grandmother, Zhamal Apa, she told many stories about him and his craft. A special place in my childhood memories is held by the curious episodes of his life: once, for instance, the aul migrated without him because no one wanted to wake him, but the auyl elder, as was customary, always left behind a tethered horse and a helper so he could make his own way to the winter or summer camp. He was, in a sense, a freelancer of his time, his schedule was not structured the way most people's was; he could sleep as long as he wanted, was never late, and worked when he pleased. Above all, he was not greatly dependent on the volume of his work, and if a commission did not appeal to him, he could turn it down, even when it came from an influential person in the auyl. In his story we glimpse the structure of traditional, and later modernized, Kazakh society: in almost every family there was a sheber, a master of manual skill.
Watching the video documentation of that work, I think of my great-grandfather. He was a craftsman, - a sheber. He made the finest horse harnesses and saddles of his time, and sewed and painted wedding dresses and ornaments. I know of him through the memories of my grandmother, Zhamal Apa, she told many stories about him and his craft. A special place in my childhood memories is held by the curious episodes of his life: once, for instance, the aul migrated without him because no one wanted to wake him, but the auyl elder, as was customary, always left behind a tethered horse and a helper so he could make his own way to the winter or summer camp. He was, in a sense, a freelancer of his time, his schedule was not structured the way most people's was; he could sleep as long as he wanted, was never late, and worked when he pleased. Above all, he was not greatly dependent on the volume of his work, and if a commission did not appeal to him, he could turn it down, even when it came from an influential person in the auyl. In his story we glimpse the structure of traditional, and later modernized, Kazakh society: in almost every family there was a sheber, a master of manual skill.
One might have expected the figure of the craftsman to leave the stage after the Industrial Revolution, since at first glance there seems no place for manual labor in an age of mass assembly-line production, Chinese factories, and giant brands. Yet things have turned out otherwise: manual labor has not disappeared, nor ceased to move and develop. This is evident in the public appetite for the old and the historical, now undergoing a revival, one glance at the market to see pop-up stores, Instagram shops, and secondhand outlets selling vintage, one-of-a-kind jewelry, furniture, and clothing by local designers and craftspeople, while young people, alongside their ultra-modern devices, boast of their latest finds in antique shops.
Manual labor today remains to be an essential part of artistic production in contemporary art: handmade objects and sculpture continue to exist in symbiosis with multimedia works. This is visible in the work of the exhibition's participants. Looking closely at our still-developing field of contemporary art, where there is not yet a stable market or broad demand, I see that it is often precisely the skill of manual labor that sustains artists through certain periods. And how many other such fields remain, still beyond the reach of automation?
"Yet things have turned out otherwise: manual labor has not disappeared, nor ceased to move and develop"
This new situation, in which automated and manual labor intertwine, and this very "blood" residue is the subject of our interest and inquiry in this exhibition. In preparing it, we sought to understand what the market for handmade, one-of-a-kind objects looks like within mass society, where it exists, where it predominates, and what place manual labor occupies in artistic production. The exhibition's central focus is the figure of the artist-craftsman: their experience and rituals, methods and tools.
We have tried to select the objects and structure the exhibition to answer these questions while immersing the viewer in a world of tactility, texture, and color
— Аssel
Participating Artists:
Galym Madanov and Zauresh Terekbay, Gulnur Mukazhanova, Zhanna Nugerbek, Kokonja, Meruyert Kunakova, Nurbol Nurakhmet, Serzhan Bashirov
Galym Madanov and Zauresh Terekbay, Gulnur Mukazhanova, Zhanna Nugerbek, Kokonja, Meruyert Kunakova, Nurbol Nurakhmet, Serzhan Bashirov
Other Articles
We arrived at it by different paths and at different times, and the pandemic and the January events accelerated its realization.
This group exhibition was devoted to the anthropology and politics of food.
