Public funding for art has always been a prickly issue. In Canada, the movie industry is rallying against a bill that would deny tax credits to film productions deemed offensive:
The change to the Income Tax Act (Bill C-10) would allow [Heritage Minister Josée] Verner, or a government committee, to deny tax credits to productions deemed offensive and “contrary to public policy.” Members of the Canadian film and television industry have criticized the possible amendment for threatening to deplete Canadian production by casting doubt over its financing.
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The amendment has also been condemned by the Canadian Film and Television Production Association for having been possibly motivated by special interest groups.
When asked if Bill C-10 were influenced by the head of the Canadian Family Action Coalition Charles McVety - who has claimed credit for the provision - Verner denied any involvement.
“Offensive” is a relative term, of course – McVety feels that tax credits should be withheld from film films that promote homosexuality, extreme violence or graphic sex. Which acts qualify as such and whether all depictions necessarily constitute promotion is unclear. However, Canada’s fiction-based movie issue pales next to the furor brewing in Costa Rica over the “torture art” of Guillermo Vargas Habacuc. Having received honorable mention at the 2006 Central American Biennial, the 50-year old artist caused a firestorm with his 2007 display Eres lo que lees (“You are what you read”). According to British newspaper The Guardian, Habacuc leashed a stray dog without direct access to any food or water, but within smelling range of the dog biscuits used to create the title. The display also included the Sandinista anthem being played backwards along with a large amount of crack-cocaine smoldering in an incense burner. The dog reportedly died on the scene without any intervention by Habacuc or the audience.
Habacuc defended his display as a reflection on society’s treatment of animals:
Hello everyone. My name is Guillermo Vargas Habacuc. I am 50 years old and an artist. Recently, I have been criticized for my work titled “Eres lo que lees”, which features a dog named Nativity. The purpose of the work was not to cause any type of infliction on the poor, innocent creature, but rather to illustrate a point. In my home city of San Jose, Costa Rica, tens of thousands of stray dogs starve and die of illness each year in the streets and no one pays them a second thought. Now, if you publicly display one of these starving creatures, such as the case with Nativity, it creates a backlash that brings out a big of hypocrisy in all of us. Nativity was a very sick creature and would have died in the streets anyway.
Visitors to Central America or the Caribbean have most likely run into a few of the many stray dogs that run around the countryside and occasionally in the city (the strays in Trinidad enjoy walking along very thin brick barriers that separate mountain roads from +100 foot drops). Thus, the informed skeptic’s question is simple: if Habacuc is so interested in drawing attention to the plight of stray animals, why didn’t he just photograph some of readily-available examples?
Furthermore, his statement that the dog would have died anyway smacks of opportunism. Imagine if a Costa Rican government official suggested that dangerous drug experiments should be performed on the sick and destitute since they will probably die anyway.
Alas, attaching the word “art” to an act or display seems to invite defense for what would otherwise be considered psychopathic and indefensible. Juanita Bermudez, director of the gallery, asserted that the dog was only tied up during the public display and didn’t die on the premises (which contradicts the implication of Hubacuc’s earlier quote). Similarly, there will be many arguments about how art is supposed to challenge the senses and evoke strong reactions among its viewers.
Perhaps. However, most art accomplishes this through depiction. Action movies, death metal and first person shooter games all deal heavily with the macabre but do not physically commit violent acts to convey the message.
The Central American Biennial is one of a network of general art shows and the official sponsorship list has proven evasive. Assuming there was at least SOME government funding involved, would it have been appropriate to withdraw support for the show based on Hubacuc’s cruelty? Arguably, most Canadians would say yes. But by doing so, are we putting ourselves in league with McVety and his moral police? It seems the best solution would be for the government to get out of the art funding business except when commissioning specific works (e.g. a mural on some government property).
The odds that Canada or any other nation will ever settle on a standard for what is “offensive” are vanishingly small. In a free market, people can determine what is to their liking via purchasing art works and attending art shows. Those who are offended can simply not attend and have no other recourse since their dollars are not being used to fund it. If a market-driven approach is ever proven to be heavy-handed, the government could alternatively pass a law withholding funding to “art” involving real (not depicted) activity that would otherwise lead to an arrest.
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