What I am about to write will sound like a liberal anthem, and I feel a little queazy about that. Sometimes you find yourself expressing emotions or points of view that are absolutely true to your heart, but when you realise their relevant heading or, as it’s now called, ”tag”, it might not always ring a comfortable bell.
Anyway, the situation is as follows: Stockholm is a small town with hubris. Although beautiful, safe, clean, affluent and cultivated, it by no means contains a big city pulse or the urban ultra-frequencies that signal any kind of resonance with the unexpected. Usually called ”the Venice of the North”, Stockholm probably fares better as ”the Zürich of the North”. And that’s not a bad thing, not at all. If things weren’t so complacently bourgeois here, the non-adherents wouldn’t have anything to complain about, right?
What has become evident over the past decades of relentless globalisation is that older art institutions have had to adapt to competition from younger and in many ways more vital galleries and venues. This has been proto-evident in Stockholm in the case with the Museum of Modern Art (”Moderna Museet”, henceforth called MM) on one hand and the still baby fresh institution Fotografiska (specialising, as the name implies, in photography).
MM is a European landmark among museums, mainly because of curator Pontus Hultén’s strategic artist/dealer hobnobbing during the 50s and 60s. Not only were great things shown and written about, but there was already an early focus on building a truly great collection. Photography was included in this early vision, way earlier than in most other similar institutions in Europe. This has meant that a huge photography collection has been amassed, today containing approximately 100.000 images from the early 19th century and onwards.
Although kept within the same structure, the photography section was an institution in itself until 1998, when it was engulfed by big art brother MM. Many, many great exhibitions have been shown during the years since then, and cooperations with publishers like Steidl have created a catalogue/monograph industry that has further strengthened the ”trademark” of this Swedish bastion.
Then what happened? In 2010, newcomer Fotografiska popped up, not out of the blue entirely but certainly out of a dark room that was considerably more contemporary in approach. Housed by the water in a huge old warehouse building and actually looking out over the water towards the island Skeppsholmen (where, incidentally, MM is situated), the place has been packed with people from all generations who have been presented amazing shows from noteables like Sarah Moon, Annie Leibovitz, Albert Watson, Robert Mapplethorpe and many others.
When Fotografiska emerged, people and media in general liked the initiative but were immediately sowing seeds of doubt. Who were behind this venture? Surely, they didn’t have the capacity to act as an international photography institution? Surely they couldn’t afford it? Now, almost a couple of years down the road, the times and attitudes have certainly changed. Run and partly owned by brothers Jan and Per Broman, and co-owned by investment banker Sven Hagströmer (and others), Fotografiska has established itself as a highly connected and ambitious spot in Northern Europe, in many ways resembling Fotomuseum Winterthur just outside aforementioned Zürich.
The photography people at MM realised that the success of Fotografiska could only mean one thing: Fotografiska are in it for real and not only had the funds to carry on but actually even displayed a profit – surely always a thorn in the side of State-funded MM!
As I write this, in the late autumn of 2011, the entire collections’ section of MM, usually swamped with Duchamps, Rauschenbergs, Picassos, Matisses, etc, etc, now only shows images from the photography collection. It’s brutally impressive and yet only displays a mere fraction of what is actually in the collection. To wander through these halls is to literally travel through time as well as through the distinctly technical and artistic history of photography.
On the other side of the water, Fotografiska are showing Nick Brandt’s massive African wildlife pictures and the intimate street photography of Helen Levitt, while at the same time getting geared up to show new works by Anton Corbijn.
When I grew up, there was basically only the photography section at MM (the Cartier-Bresson retrospective there in 1983 actually made me decide to become a photographer!) and a small gallery in the old town called Camera Obscura. Now, we’re in the midst of a battle for the many-headed crowds, who are essentially always the winners of this strife. Stockholm has become a truly impressive place for photography as an art form.
It’s interesting to see how established preconceptions rule initally but are upheaved when something proves to be successful. In this we can see very old patterns of behaviour easily analyzed through an almost Marxist class struggle grid. As mentioned, when Fotografiska started out, the reactions were enthusiastic but still containing some kind of ill will. Why? Because there was initially no transparency in the organisation (as in old State-funded organisations) and because noone on the outisde initially had insight into the financial situation (as in old State-funded organisations) and because the main guys weren’t established in the already existing nepotistic puddle (as in old State-funded organisations).
MM has always been a bastion of old money and upper class connections. It’s always been a ”given” (to paraphrase Duchamp) within this sphere to be an associate, a supporter and, eventually, someone who donates works to the museum’s collections. This is standard behaviour in traditional circles in Stockholm (as elsewhere), and this affluent network has undeniably made MM what it is today: a really fantastic museum. It would not have been possible without the generosity, in many ways, of the upper class.
Although Hagströmer should be regarded as a denizen of this circle too, the aura of Fotografiska generally reeks of new money. The attitude is modern, aggressively ambitious and is frantically positioning the place as a fellow of similar like-minded institutions in Europe. The inclusion of events, workshops and social networking at Fotografiska is a Zeitgeistish phenomenon, but one that apparently gets results. It is not a more or less static institution for those traditionally in the know, but a vital and youthful display of love for a medium and an art form.
However, nothing is really static, is it? The situation we have today is that both parties have adapted to each other, although I’m certain that none of the spokespersons would admit to it. Moderna Museet have, by temporarily dedicating the entire collections’ section to photography and by displaying invaluable items from their collection, shown that it not only can compete but actually does so too – with a stern vengeance. Whereas Fotografiska have diligently shown that a newcomer can indeed provide an extremely healthy infusion of younger savoir-faire and potency into an art ”scene”. What we have then is currently a photography paradise, in which the old and the new have gone to the very extremes to attract people. Considering that it’s only a ten minute boat ride or a twenty minute walk in between these bastions, the audience, I would expect, is more or less the same.
What about other places then? Kulturhuset, situated at the very centre of Stockholm, usually shows great photo exhibits, but for some reason (old school thinking?) keeps an undeservingly low public profile. Galleri Kontrast is another classic, always showing good stuff, mainly (but not always) in a photo-journalistic vein. The most active and attractive place, to me, is GUN Gallery, which regularly shows a lot of new interesting stuff.
We should keep in mind that these are venues/galleries with smaller operations and hence, I would assume, greater freedom to experiment and bet on cards not as safe as Fotografiska’s and MM’s. A different mindframe perhaps, in completely different people? Well, not entirely it seems. Hagströmer is also financing Galleri Kontrast, and Mr GUN himself, Greger Ulf Nilsson, just so happens to be the designer of Steidl’s huge collaboration catalogues for MM’s current tour de force.
Creative nepotism is seemingly unavoidable in a small place like Stockholm. But who really gives a rat’s ass, when there’s such an abundance of good photography around? Old money distinctions plus new money vitality equals a pretty good scene. There: a liberal formula and market strategy that, in Stockholm at least, really works!
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