The inspiration for this article came from our project coordinator, Rossana Miele, specifically from an episode of the “Art and Obsolescence” podcast that she kindly shared with us last month—or perhaps the month before. My original plan was to dedicate my latest blog to this episode ... but my conversation with Odilon Coutarel (check it on my previous blog!) was so captivating and enriching for this project that I could not resist writing about it immediately.
Rossana shared this episode for good reason: Cass Fino-Radin, the podcast host, welcomed Ursula Davila-Villa, an expert on artist legacies based in New York, to discuss numerous issues related to this field (click here to listen to it!). These themes lie at the core of my own reflections and of the discussions I have had—and continue to have—with Nil Yalter. Thus, I would like to devote this post to exploring these reflections, albeit in a fictional dialogic way: instead of providing a summary of the episode, I have chosen to highlight and comment on a few key excerpts that left a lasting impression on me.
But first, a few words about Ursula Davila-Villa, the guest of this episode. Based in New York, Ursula Davila-Villa helps artists, and their families establish appropriate plans to ensure that their work and archives will exist in a way consistent with the artist’s wishes after they are gone. Having held various positions throughout her career, from gallery assistant to museum curator, her trajectory illustrates her unique role within the art world. As she notes, there is no specific formal training (yet!) for this line of work, which requires both strong interpersonal skills and a deep understanding of the legal complexities surrounding intellectual property, which vary depending on the geographical context.
“We need to think about it as a human field and not just from a historical point of view or a market perspective.”
Here, Ursula refers to her role as a legacy specialist, and I completely agree with her insight. Since the beginning of the Ark journey, I have felt immensely privileged to have the opportunity to delve into Nil’s archives. This privilege is further supported by the deep bond of trust we have developed. Naturally, I am concerned with the long-term future of the archives, but what matters most to me is our relationship and, above all, ensuring that the archive reflects Nil’s vision and wishes.
“Artists that had not seen the market recognition that they thought they deserved. And in almost all cases, this has happened for them in the last decade. But all of them shared this unique quality that, regardless of what the market responded, at any point in time, they all passionately pursued art making for decades.”
Since receiving her Golden Lion, Nil’s work has garnered increasing attention in the form of articles and exhibitions—a situation that she finds overwhelming based on our conversations. “Fifty years ago, no one cared about my work, and now, boom! It’s madness,” is something she often says. Indeed, Nil’s works long remained outside the commercial circuits (in part by design!). Yet, she never ceased creating, as she believed deeply in the value of her work and in the importance of giving voice to those silenced within society.
“At the time we were a very small team, and there were questions around cataloging inventory. And this is decades of work for each artist. If you don’t have records or they don’t have records, how do you go about making sure you’re dating things correctly so that if the artist says it’s from like 1976, it’s not just him or her saying it, but rather you have some evidence as to why the work is dated in that particular way.”
I am quite fortunate: while Nil never had an assistant, she has always been meticulous about organizing and cataloging her works. Her website is a testament to this effort. Nevertheless, I often rely on her impressive memory (which I must emphasize!) when it comes to dating certain materials, particularly when archiving photographs, letters, or personal objects.
“You would end up really questioning museums and structurally what was wrong with the spaces that house culture.”
Hahahaha! This quote doesn’t directly pertain to the Archivorum project, but it made me smile because it directly touches on my thesis topic. Indeed, the “spaces that house culture” have countless flaws, both as physical entities and as conceptual frameworks.
“You constantly have to be on your feet. She’s been an artist that has always been, I think, very legacy-driven and minded, made very timely decisions in relationship to her legacy.”
Nil Yalter is acutely aware of what she wants for her legacy. I am privy to a few details (because she has been kind enough to share some with me), but of course, this is not my domain. My role is to collaborate with her in creating an archive of her major works, including those that might have escaped the attention of critics or art historians. However, it is not about preparing her legacy or will. What I do know is that Nil already has a clear vision of what she wants to do with her artistic archives.
“But Lorraine O’Grady (A/N) was an early adopter of digital information, so starting in the early nineties, she began to keep everything in digital form and kept very little paper.”
Yes! Nil too! She began working with new technologies and digital tools early on. Nil is a digital expert (Photoshop and similar software hold no mysteries for her!). A significant portion of her archives is stored on her computer, with much of it digitized, as if she had long understood the importance of digital preservation for her works.
“Having worked with artists, other artists’ archives are impeccable. It’s amazing how she has sorted decades and decades of work. When we began working outside the context of the gallery, she wanted to begin thinking about placing her digital archive. I’m not a digital archivist myself; I felt that I needed to educate myself before committing to doing this for her.”
Indeed, being an archivist in the digital age presents new challenges. Having received no formal training in this field, I am learning as I go—and I believe that is the beauty of this project!
“For me it was really important to think about what it entails to donate a digital archive. And what is the commitment that we should see from the host institution in receiving such a gift? It is very clear and straightforward when it comes to analog material, especially in the context of preservation. It’s less so when it comes to digital matter.”
Indeed, what would it mean for Nil to one day donate her hard drives to an institution? What would the implications be?
“It was the first time also that I moved through the process of grief, having worked with an artist, and then even though you’re so close to questions around mortality all the time, it was the first time I’d actually had to go through the actual act of saying goodbye and the emotional side to it.”
Nil often jokes about her mortality. She has lived a remarkable life for which she is profoundly grateful. The subject of death, therefore, is not taboo for her—though it might be slightly more so for me...
“Artists’ legacies are as diverse as artists.”
So are their archives.
“So, it’s not just a matter of creating an inventory; there’s a spirit to the work that, if broken, it would really break what she represents as an artist.”
Precisely. My greatest wish for this archive and this book is for them to capture Nil’s voice and essence.
“That while we have 50 years of photography, 25 of them are analog, and we can learn from the analog archive to understand the digital, but it does not translate. In that regard, there’s still a lot ahead of us. If we don’t tend to digital preservation now and questions around digital archives, we’re gonna be in trouble.”
I fully agree! Digital technology is a relatively new tool, and many challenges remain ahead. No need to mention the hard drive issues Nil occasionally encounters…
“It’s very human, so you get the artist in their entire humanity. The good, the bad, the difficulty, the ugly, it’s all there. I wish there was formal education around this kind of work, because there’s so much that could easily be learned, but you can only access it with a certain degree of privilege or access.”
Yes, yes, yes! The same applies to archiving work. I resonate completely with Ursula Davila-Villa’ s sentiments.
Comments