Sex, Art and the Dow Jones
By Jean-Charles Massera
2003, Lukas & Sternberg, New York
Translator: Gila Walker
Reviewed by Amy Ione ione@diatrope.com

Sex, Art and the Dow Jones is indeed a title that catches the eye. Printed in gold on a hot pink and purple surface, the bright colors and catchy moniker bring to mind that while one can never judge a book by its cover, what is on the cover works best when it grabs the consumer's attention. In this case the abstract design succeeds because it is hard to resist the sexy come-on embedded in the title. Coupling this with a numerical analysis representation depicting market behavior adds to the appeal. This visual,which includes different color values of the statistics, offers an intriguing introduction through which the book's author, Jean-Charles Massera, can speak.
A writer and art critic based in the South of France, Massera begins by alerting readers that the contents of this compact book are not intended to constitute a history, anthology, or theory of art and film. Rather the extended essay is an attempt to comment on the way in which certain recent approaches in contemporary art and film have tackled the culture, economic system, myths, and beliefs around which we organize our lives. Seeing painting and sculpture as forms conceived for yesterday, Massera engages with sound installations, video installations, film, photography, and slide projections. Massera also explains that the style of the book might be compared to assemblage in the sense that the content works in the manner of an exhibition. Through interacting with the composite, the reader gains a sense of its overall statement.
Overall the survey demonstrated how much is gained when one brings some knowledge of contextual themes to an exhibition, or in this case an "assemblage book". In this case, Massera's fluid style is packed with allusions to today's culture. His lively technique, much like the fast-paced world of today, cuts from here to elsewhere at a rapid pace. Cinematic phrases further emphasize that the publication is a film script in book form rather than a scholarly critique. Indeed, those familiar with Massera' sources are likely to find rich textures flowing throughout the mosaic-like commentary. The uninitiated, however, may find the quick transitions challenging. One problem is that the style makes it difficult to know where a reference to a film ends and the voice of the author returns. A related problem is that each chapter montage, which is a part of the larger montage, also includes an uncountable number of questions. These, I presume, were included to aid in conceptualizing all of the related issues. For example, Section IV. DEFICIT OF IMAGES AND LACK OF REPRESENTATIONS begins a chapter that has a question as its title: IS THERE LIFE BEYOND THE LATIN QUARTER? (FOR A DECENTRALIZATION OF THE "I"). Then the first paragraph, headed TENEMENTS AND WOOD-PANELING is comprised of 7 questions:
A question to begin with: Can you imagine Bergman shooting a film in the Bronx or Desplechin in the poor suburbs of Paris? Is it possible to conceive of existential questions and intimate psychological dramas that are not set in deserts or in upscale city centers? If wood crackling in the fireplace and wind gusting over deserted plains offers an atmosphere that is highly appreciated in cultural circles, is it impossible to get back in touch with oneself without them? Does the absence of wood paneling imply an absence of psychology? Is Janet's contempt for Bill who is secretly in love with Susan and unable to make up his mind peculiar to the interior architecture of New York's Upper East Side? Is the silence that absorbs Mary too deep for a tenement building, five minutes from a commuter train into the city? Could the function of cinema boil down to plotting a map of affects that coincides with recent urban developments (the spatial fracture)? (p. 261)
The thoughts that follow hover around the themes outlined in this paragraph to some degree. Translating the resemblance without some knowledge of the "code" that underlies his premises is a daunting task. Frequently losing the thread, I concluded it is hard to ascertain precisely what any of the words are intended to mean. Key phrases that are used to bring the vignettes together do not aid one's comprehension. Terms like "shift point of view" and "change directions" instead suggest that Massera intentionally imposes a blur to simulate a fast-paced world in which there seems to be no center. This was not particularly satisfactory. While I agree with Massera that the pace and fragmentary information of our world today make it difficult to communicate, I nonetheless think that we will not bridge the fractures if we simply adopt the model. With the obscurity that is built into the framework Massera uses, he gives the impression that the book is meant for those who already share his opinion of contemporary culture, social myths, globalization, sex, and aesthetics.
In light of all that is assumed, it seems the text would work best in a classroom environment, where many of the projects he discusses are also a part of the syllabus. In this context the questions could be unpacked, debated, and deconstructed. On its own, however, the book mixes moment of clarity with nonlinear ramblings. Some result in sweeping generalizations that defuses substance. Others stem from what I see as a too narrowly defined thesis. For example, the various references to the images of the Gulf War, in this case the 1991 Desert Storm war, were quite powerful. Yet, in light of the war in Iraq today these historical references to the media imagery seemed too remote from the way this old war intertwines with the current one. While imagery has been a component in each, the lived reality is significantly more complex than the images convey. Massera suggests this when inferring we should recognize that the images led us to adopt a fictionalized view of the earlier war. A more grounded exposition might have turned his words into a prescient perspective rather than a limited statement.
Similarly, references to cultural styles seemed too narrow in scope. The restricted range of examples failed to convince me that he covered the territory evident in our pluralistic, global culture. Instead the academic citations and artwork he chose suggested that the notations were there to reinforce the book's treatise qualities. Without a doubt, questions about sexuality, personhood, and subjectivity easily fit with the work of artists Massera introduces (e.g., Bruce Nauman, Vito Acconci, James Turrell,and many others). These fashionable topics, however, are not the totality of our global community. Exclusions were particularly noteworthy since it was impossible to say if Massera was unaware of those excluded or if they did not suit his tastes. The omissions, ironically, compelled me to formulate many questions he never included.
For example, while I share the author's frustration with globalization and superficiality, I don't understand why this book did not offer a representative survey. One omission that struck me on glaringly absent was Sebastião Salgado, a Brazilian economist who became a photographer in order to allow invisible faces to speak. His work, to be sure, does not resonate with sex or the Dow Jones, but it does speak specifically to how an aesthetic statement can capture the haunting, heart-felt reality of globalization. Indeed Salgado seems like the type of artist that might have balanced the commentary. This photographer has a knack for presenting deeply felt visuals, which infuse all of his work with an indescribable quality. The Migrations series, for example, chronicled events in Afghanistan, Kurdistan, Rwanda, Congo, Angola, Mozambique, and the Balkans. Through these images this photographer is able to offer a deeply felt perspective that seems to identify global questions in a human way, never removing the heart from the presentation. Migrations also depicts those forced from their homes by population growth, environmental degradation, natural disasters and economic depression. The refugees, exiles, orphans, landless peasants, homeless families, and boat people are individual faces that collectively reveal a vast and moving panorama of segments of humanity in transition. Unlike film characters, these images depict living people. Similarly, it seemed strange that Mona Hatoum's Corps étranger (or ‘Foreign Body’) was discussed without reference to her biography. To be sure, as the author states, we can say that the piece reinforced Hatoum’s belief that Western culture has “divorced” body from mind and the sense of mystery that the female body holds for the opposite sex. The author might have also asked if Hatoum's Lebanese background informed this piece. This kind of question would have allowed an actual practitioner who inhabits both sides of an issue to introduce a reality that is more vital than the abstract ideas about the "Other" included.
Finally, while reading the book practically every page underscored how sex became a part of the title. The Dow Jones phrase struck me more as a sexy, symbolic term used to entice us. Indeed, the frequent references to sex offered a sharp contrast to the Dow Jones, which was never explicitly discussed. Comments on work, corporate culture, the impact on culture/globalization, and economic issues are no doubt intended to link to the Dow Jones. In addition, the book attempts to extract a certain number of aesthetic topics from their historic contexts (art and film history) in order to connect them to the restructuring currently going on in our society. Whether or not Sex and the Dow Jones succeeds probably depends on how well the reader knows the sources used to buttress the themes. Although I would not be surprised to learn that those who are among the initiated find the book extraordinary, those who do not see the world in terms of cinematic imagery may not find the questions raised equally compelling.