Vsi vemo!

Ime Priimek 31 Ime članka

SlovenSkapoStalternativa

1993—2013Vsi vemo: nekaj gnilega je v deželi Danski! Ali kot to mnogo sočneje prevedejo naši južni sosedje: nešto je trulo u mom kra-ljestvu! In vsi vemo: slovenska kulturna politika je že (vsa?) leta nabor bolj ali manj domiselnih, a venomer instantnih, nepregle-dnih in začasnih rešitev. In vsi vemo, da se o tem ne bomo stri-njali. Takšne in drugačne politične ter interesne struje so vedno znova prisesane na odločevalski aparat in seveda vsakič vzamejo svoje delo skrajno resno. In konec koncev, zakaj bi od lastnega sektorja pričakovali več vpogleda in bolj vsebinske odločitve namesto splošnejših, sistemskih? Z resnimi problemi se soočajo vsaj še javni zdravstveni sistem, javna uprava in zakonodaja.

Tale serija pogovorov predpostavlja, da poskušamo vsaj sami sebe jemati resno. Da je naš, glede na javno porabo droban in krhek sektor tisti, v katerem smemo in moramo iskreno in dosledno premisliti in preizkusiti alternativne, drugačne, bolj »človeške« modele ustvarjanja.

Osnovni slovenski kulturnopolitični model smo pode-dovali od jugoslovanskega sistema, ki ga danes v širši javnosti večinoma ni spodobno omenjati ali analizirati, čeprav bi bilo to nujno potrebno za razumevanje aktualnega stanja. Temelji na nekaterih bistvenih predpostavkah, ki so vpisane v živelj, v družbeno zavest in ki jih v kulturniških krogih suvereno in nereflektirano iteriramo do onemoglosti:

Kulturna politika z vidika upravljavcev in ustvarjalcev

uprizoritvenih umetnosti

Jure Novak

Foto: Nada žgank

vsi vemo!

Maska 157–158 32 JESEN / AUTUMN 2013

• kulturajedružbenodobro;• smiselnoje,dazakulturoplačujejovsi,tuditisti,kije

ne uporabljajo: kultura je nekaj takega kot zdravstvo ali javna infrastruktura;

• slovenskakulturanaprostemtrguzaradivelikostitega trga ne more preživeti sama: potrebna je subven-cije;

• slovenskakulturajedoslednainstitucija:vemo,kajje in kaj ni kultura;

• Slovenciimamovrhunskeumetnike,kiuspevajo(tudi) v tujini, domačo javnost pa lastna produkcija zadovoljuje;

• kulturajekonstitutivnidelslovenskedržavepredosamosvojitvijo in po njej;

• slovenskijezikjekonstitutivnidelslovenskeganaro-da in kulture.

Slednji blut und boden predpostavki, porojeni v 19. stoletju, sta že na prvi pogled anahronistični, preživeti, a nič bolj problematični kot prvih pet. Vseh sedem tez namreč sodi na področje retorike, izjavljanja z namenom doseganja zastavlje-nih (večinoma političnih) ciljev. če smo ustvarjalci, misleci, umetniki, intelektualci (včasih označeni tudi s psovko kulturniki) dosledni, če se zavedamo svoje izvorne pozicije v-in-izven hkrati, smo jih dolžni problematizirati in zavreči, saj so ujete v problematične ideološke predpostavke. Iztrgane iz konteksta pa so vselej prazne, oropane pomena in vsakršne človečnosti.

Naša dolžnost, naše skoraj temeljno poslanstvo je prav po heideggerjansko vsakič znova upravičiti vrženost v tu-bit. In prav v uprizoritvenih umetnostih, umetnostih, ki ne obsta-jajo brez tistega, za kogar so, smo s to potrebo upravičevanja soočeni vsakič znova. Vsak neposreden, živ pogled, ki pade na nas, je hkrati zahteva, vprašanje, ki terja odgovor: Zakaj jaz to gledam? Berem? Poslušam? Kdo ste? Kdo za vraga sploh ste?

Na ta vprašanja nimamo sistemskih odgovorov. Na ta vprašanja sistemski odgovori bržkone sploh niso mogoči. Na-nje odgovarja vsak umetnik sam, iz svoje intime. Bolj ali manj reflektirano. Bolj ali manj zavedajoč se izhodišč in temeljev prakse svojega delovanja. ne biti danskega princa je prav tako vpisan v intimo ustvarjanja kot najbolj suvereni egotrip sein an sich.

Praktikum izvajanja kulturne politike pa je nekaj pov-sem drugega. Tu sedem omenjenih tez drži kot pribito. Prvih pet predstavlja našo mantro: pojavljajo se v Nacionalnih programih za kulturo in v civilnodružbenih pripombah nanje, v pismih bralcev, ko neoliberalci udrihajo čez ves javni sektor. V naših pol javnih trenutkih, na sestankih s kolegi, v intervju-jih in časopisnih stolpcih. In zadnji trditvi sta, če si priznamo ali ne, ključni za tradicijo javne podpore slovenski kulturi. Ob pritiskih primežev neoliberalnih varčevalnih politik ju kulturniška srenja na čelu z Društvom slovenskih pisateljev kaj kmalu pribeza na plan.

Moji trije sogovorniki so se s sedmimi problematičnimi tezami skoraj dolžni strinjati. Od teh predpostavk so odvisni

njihov položaj, njihove plače, družbenoekonomska vrednost njihovih življenjepisov. Vendar je v pogovorih z njimi zaznati note premisleka, saj gre za tri praktike produkcije in umetno-sti, katerih podstat je prevpraševanje, kontekstualiziranje. Nereflektirana umetnost je dandanes stežka umetnost.

Simona Karduma sprašujem kot nekoga, ki je iz aktivista prešel v izvajalca, iz sanjača v politika. In odgovarja kot (real)politik. Je direktor sodobnega javnega zavoda CUK Kino Šiška.

Janez Janša se odpre razmisleku o odnosih med javnim in zasebnim sektorjem v kulturi, opisuje, kakšno je (bilo) razmerje med obema (so)odvisnima sektorjema in kakšno bi lahko bilo, s skoraj naivnim odnosom do morebitnih posledic brisanja te meje. Že dolga leta vodi zavod Maska, eno največjih nevladnih institucij s področja uprizoritvenih umetnosti v Sloveniji. Iztok Kovač se konkretnim, aktualnim odgovorom izogne, razmišlja pragmatično, na dolge proge in se osredo-toča na institucijo v kontekstu posameznika in/ali sodobno-plesnega uprizoritvenega žanra. Je pionir institucionaliza-cije sodobnega plesa v Sloveniji in upravnik Centra kulture Španski borci.

Trije pogledi iz različnih produkcijskih pozicij in umetni-ških ozadij: sodobni javni zavod ter dva zelo različno organizi-rana in delujoča neprofitna zasebna zavoda.

Cultural Politicsfrom the Viewpoint

of Managers and Creatorsof Performing Arts

Jure Novak

Translated by the authorPhoto: Nada žgank

We all know!POSTALTERNATIvE IN SLOvENIA

1993–2013

Jure Novak 33 VSI VEMO!/ WE ALL KNOW!

We all know: there’s something rotten in the state of Den-mark! And we all know: Slovenian cultural politics have for (ever?) years been a series of more or less inventive but always instant, opaque and temporary solutions. And we all know that we will not agree on this topic. One after another political or interest faction has always been attached to the decision-making apparatus and they always take their work very seriously. And finally: why expect our own sector to perform better, with more insight and transparency, than the more systemic, broader structures? At the very least, systems facing serious problems include the public health system, the bureaucracy and the legislature.

This series of talks presumes that we take ourselves seri-ously. That our sector, a miniscule and fragile part of public spending, is one in which we may and must consider and test alternative, more “humane” modes of creation.

We inherited the basic Slovenian model of cultural poli-tics from the yugoslav system, a pariah, not to be mentioned or discussed in public, although such a discussion would be necessaryfortheunderstandingofthecurrentstateofaffairs.The model is based on some key presumptions, written into our lifeblood, into the societal consciousness, which we in the cultural circles iterate ad infinitum:

• cultureisasocietalgood;• itmakessensethatweallpayforculture,eventhose

who don’t use it: culture is something akin to public health or infrastructure;

• Slovenianculturecannotsurviveonthefreemarket, due to its size: it needs subsidizing;

• Sloveniancultureisaconsistentinstitution:weknowwhat culture is or is not;

• therearegreatartistsinSlovenia,(also)successfulabroad, while audiences at home are satisfied by local production;

• cultureisaconstitutivepartoftheSlovenianstate,before and after its independence;

• theSlovenelanguageisaconstitutivepartoftheSlovenian nation and culture.

These latter blut und boden presumptions, born in the 19th cen-tury, seem anachronistic, outdated, but are no more problem-atic than the first five. All seven theses belong to the field of rhetoric, of uttering to achieve our set (mostly political) goals. If we creators, thinkers, artists, intellectuals are to be consist-ent, if we are aware of our original position of within-and-with-out, we must critique and abandon them, as they are all rooted in problematic ideological presumptions. And torn from this context, they are empty of meaning and any humanity.

It is our duty, our almost basic mission, to, as per Heidegger, justify our repeated insertion into the dasein. And

it is in the performing arts, the arts that do not exist without those for whom they are intended, that we face this need for a reason every single time. Each direct, living gaze that sets upon us is also a demand, a question, needing an answer: why am I watching? Reading? Listening? Who are you? Who the hell are you?

We have no systemic answers to these questions. There probably aren’t any. They are answered by artists individually, from their intimacies. In more or less reflection. More or less aware of the bases and groundwork of their practices. The not to be of the Danish prince is as much written into the intimacy of creating as the most certain of sein an sich ego trips.

The practicum of rendering cultural politics, however, is somethingcompletelydifferent.Here,theseventhesesareunquestionable. The first five are our mantra: they appear in the National Programs for Culture and the interested public’s comments thereto, in readers’ letters, when the neoliberals attack everything that is public. In our half-public moments, in meetings with colleagues, in interviews, in newspaper columns. And even the last two are, whether we like it or not, key to the tradition of the public support of Slovenian culture. When pressured by neoliberal austerity politics, the cultural elites, led by the Slovenian Writers’ Association, are quick to bring them to light.

My three interviewees are almost duty-bound to agree with the seven theses. Their positions, their wages, the social and economic values of their CVs depend on them. The conversations are chock full of critical reflection, as they are practitioners, producers and artists and therefore keep ques-tioning and contextualizing their own actions.

I talk to Simon Kardum as someone who has transi-tioned from activist to practitioner, from dreamer to politi-cian. And he answers as a (realpolitik) politician. He is the manager of the public institution CUK Kino Šiška.1 Janez Janša considers the relationship between the public and private culturalsectors.Hedescribeswhatthedifferencesbetweenthe two are and were, and what they could be, with an almost naïve attitude toward the consequences of erasing these differences.Heisthelong-timemanagerofMaskaInstitute,one of the biggest NGOs in the field of the performing arts in Slovenia. Iztok Kovač avoids concrete, direct answers. He is a pragmatist, thinks in the long-term and focuses on the institution in the context of the individual and/or the contem-porary dance genre. He is a pioneer in institutionalizing Slov-enian contemporary dance and the manager of the Španski Borci Culture Centre.2

Threeviewpointsthenfromthreedifferentpositionsofproduction and artistic backgrounds: a public institution and twoverydifferentlyorganizedandmanagedprivatenon-profit ones.

1 Kino Šiška Centre for Urban Culture is a public institution for contemporary and urban culture and also visual and performing arts, founded by the Municipality of Ljubljana. A

renovated and repurposed cinema, it opened in its most recent incarnation in 2009.2 Španski Borci Culture Centre reopened in November 2009 in Ljubljana. Owned by the

city, the centre is administered by EN-KNAP Productions; as such, it presents the largest facility intended for cultural activities in Slovenia managed by a non-governmental organization. It

is also the home stage of the EnKnapGroup dance ensemble.


Simon KardumTRhLE TRDNJAvE

SLOvENSKA POSTALTERNATIvA1993–2013

Simon Kardum 35 TRHLE TRdNJAVE

1 Ime prizorišča B-51 je skovanka iz aluzije na ameriški bombnik B-52 ter hišne števil-ke študentskega doma na Gerbičevi ulici 51. Šlo je za nočni klub, ki je v osemdesetih gostil takrat razbohoteni punk in new-wave sceni (op. ur).

2 Mitja Rotovnik je direktor Kulturne-ga in kongresnega centra Cankarjev dom v Lju-bljani že od ustanovitve leta 1982 naprej, zaslužen je tudi za njegovo izgradnjo (op. ur.).

Za začetek se osredotočiva na razvoj kulturnih politik v Slove-niji. Pregled nad njimi imaš vse od osemdesetih let prejšnjega stoletja. Začel si kot kritik in teoretik ...Moja kariera je zelo raznolika. Še kot študent sem bil eden od piscev manifesta o zasedbi bunkerja, takratnega zakloni-šča na Gerbičevi ulici v Ljubljani. Rajnka Jugoslavija ni bila v vojni, zato prostora ni potrebovala za namene, za katere je bil postavljen. Ker je bil v neposredni bližini našega študentskega doma, smo ga zasedli in nastal je B-51, popularno Bunker 51.1 To je bil čas borbe za prostore ustvarjanja; osemdeseta leta. Ta-krat so se odpirale vse pomembne institucije. Edina prostora, ki ju je do tedaj imela neodvisna, alternativna scena v Slove-niji, sta bila ŠKUC (ustanovljen 1972) in (tedaj še) Eksperimen-talno gledališče Glej. Kasneje so vzniknili še KUD Franceta Prešerna, FV in K4. To je bil čas osmišljevanja delovanja naše celotne generacije. Takrat smo v različnih umetniških pro-jektih gradili svoj, paralelni sistem umetnosti in produkcije. Z današnjega vidika si je skoraj nemogoče predstavljati, da bi doživeli ponovitev česa takega, kot je bil Krst pod triglavom Dragana Živadinova leta 1986 v Gallusovi dvorani Cankarje-vega doma. Cankarjev dom je bil takrat dom vseh in za vse. S svojo infrastrukturo je bil odprt dobrim zamislim in dobrim ekipam.

Borili smo se torej za prostore ustvarjanja, politično za pravice študentov in umetnikov in proti (kot smo rekli takrat) trhlim trdnjavam. Naša tarča je bila jasna: treba je imeti pro-stor, da lahko uresničiš svoje vizije.

Takrat sredstva niso bila osrednji problem preživetja?So in niso bila. Ne pozabiva, da so takrat mediji delovali povsem drugače kot danes. Uredniki so bili odprti za mlade generacije, zaznali so dobre pisce, za svoje delo pa s(m)o bili pišoči tudi dobro plačani. Danes je kdo, ki ni redno zaposlen v strukturi javnega sektorja, pošteno plačan samo še kot zunanji sodelavec velikih institucij: javnih gledališč in RTV Slovenija. Res pa je tudi, da smo bili takrat zanesenjaki in norci; verjeli smo v svoje zgodbe, denar ni bil na prvem mestu. Kasneje je, ne glede na to, da imamo spodobno infrastrukturo, gledališke mreže, knjižne mreže, prireditvene mreže … prišlo do zasiče-nja produkcije. To je nekaj, kar sem opažal tudi kot državni uradnik [na Ministrstvu za kulturo RS, med letoma 1997 in 2005 – op. ur.]. Poskušali smo vzpostaviti ravnovesje med neodvisnim in institucionalnim polom. Uvedli smo instru-mente večletnih programskih razpisov in pogodb, namenskih postavk za neodvisno sceno, transparentne postopke. In vse to smo ukazali tudi lokalnim skupnostim. Pogajanja z njihovimi predstavniki so bila v bistvu še najhujša.

če pogledamo odprtost tega mehanizma in ga primer-jamo z evropskimi postopki, krajevnimi ali bruseljskimi, ter z drugimi sektorji, denimo šolstvom, imamo postopke dobro urejene. Na načelni ravni. Ne govorim o končnih učinkih, je

pa bil v mojem času na Ministrstvu za kulturo vzpostavljen sistem, ki ga v devetdesetih še ni bilo. Ob mojem nastopu službe državnega uradnika je bila ta stvar popolnoma nepre-gledna, favoriziralo se je javni sektor.

In kako se spremeniš iz aktivista v publicista, nato pa v držav-nega uradnika?V devetdesetih sem najprej postal umetniški vodja, prvi dve izdaji festivala Exodos sta rezultat selekcije in logistike, ki sva jo vzpostavila s kolegom Miranom Šušteršičem. Takrat je bila to zgodba o uspehu. Precedenčno. Bil je prvi mednaro-dni festival sodobnih odrskih umetnosti pri nas, ki je mrežil različna prizorišča. Festival je gnezdil v jedru tedaj že okorele trdnjave, v Cankarjevem domu, in tudi sodelovanje z večnim direktorjem Mitjem Rotovnikom je bilo korektno.2 Predvsem pa je bil to čas, ko je imela celotna scena ogromen potencial. Ni bila samo umetniško močna, kot je do neke mere še vedno, ampak je imela tudi občinstvo.

Kam se je porazgubilo občinstvo?Vprašanje je kompleksno, treba ga je nasloviti na več deležni-kov v sistemu. In treba ga je začeti reševati.

Se je občinstvo razdrobilo ali porazgubilo?Deloma razdrobilo, deloma porazgubilo. Darkerjev v Ljubljani ne vidiš več, recimo. V Zagrebu jih. Deloma je to odvisno od kulturnih operaterjev, ker niso skrbeli za kulturno vzgojo, torej ponujanje vsebin tej subkulturi. Deloma je to odvisno od refleksije in uredniške politike medijev. Deloma od artikula-cije, kar je v rokah poznavalcev, esejistov, kritikov itd. Deloma pa seveda od umetnikov, ki so morebiti malce pozabili na dejstvo, da je to, kar počnejo, nekomu namenjeno.

Pojem končnega uporabnika je eno od velikih vprašanj, ki jih je treba razreševati. Večni očitek vsemu, kar je sodobne-ga na sceni, je, da je samozadostna, zagledana samo vase. Na tak očitek je treba odgovoriti, treba se je odpreti, odpreti svoje delo in svoje prostore.

Res je tudi, da ne smemo samo govoriti o tem, kako se bomo bojevali proti »ta starim«, pač pa je to treba tudi narediti in razreševati znotraj sistema. Torej pohod nad institucije, v mojem primeru nad uradniške, nad Ministrstvo za kulturo. Delo v njegovih ekspertnih skupinah je bilo zame dober pouk. Videl sem, da ni vse, kar pride s scene, vredno zlata. In začel sem se spraševati o drugačni vlogi tega, kar scena počne. Ko si na drugi strani, odločitve in presoje niso tako enostavne.

Leta 1997 so me povabili na Ministrstvo za kulturo, naj postanem svetovalec za področje gledališča. In sem si rekel: dajmo, poskusimo. Kot uradnik sem s posluhom za dogajanje in s poprejšnjimi izkušnjami na sceni in v večnem dvoboju s političnimi odločevalci potreboval pet let, da sem ugoto-vil, v čem so skrivnosti uradniškega dela. Ko sem leta 2005


3 Jožef Školč, slovenski politik, med letoma 1997 in 2000 je bil minister za kulturo Republike Slovenije (op. ur.).

4 Sergij Pelhan, slovenski politik in sociolog, med letoma 1993 in 1996 je bil minister za kulturo Republike Slovenije (op. ur.).

z Ministrstva odhajal, sem svoj prvi telefonski klic namenil mojemu prvemu ministru Jožefu Školču.3 Zahvalil sem se mu za povabilo.

Odšel si sam, kajne?Odšel sem sam. Protestno. Tedanja vlada me je degradirala iz vodje Direktorata za umetnost na dislocirano Metelkovo, v »kazenski bataljon«, na mesto izvedenca za romsko proble-matiko. Kot vesten uradnik sem jo elaboriral v treh mesecih, potem pa nisem imel več kaj početi.

Ko so te na Mestni občini Ljubljana povabili k ustanavljanju novega zavoda Kino Šiška, si povabilo najprej zavrnil, rekoč da boš samo v. d. direktorja, do njegove končne formalizacije in ustanovitve? Da se boš potem poslovil …Ne. Na to povabilo sem pristal, ker rad tvegam. Ampak zgodba se je razvijala. Na srečo mi je uspelo še v fazi zasnove doseči nekatere projektne spremembe, med drugim jasneje določiti poslanstvo bodoče javne ustanove. Eden od mojih pogojev je bil, da sem tisti, ki v celoti prevzame kadrovanje, in tisti, ki poskuša na primeru Kina Šiška vzorčiti nov model produkcije, organizacije in sporočanja.

K temu se bova še vrnila, skočiva malce nazaj. Lahko primerjaš svojo poklicno pot s potjo, ki jo je v tem času opravila kultura?Kot generacija smo poskušali izumljati nove produkcijske modele. Ne take, kakršni so v praksi v javnih ustanovah, pač pa mobilne, prilagodljive, ki govorijo o statusnih reformah, ki so lahko drugačni in ne nujno javni. In vse to smo razvijali s primerjalnimi študijami, debatami, pisanji, argumentacijo. Zadeve so rasle od spodaj, argumentacija se je zbirala. Zato mi ni bilo težko prepričati politike, da je treba neodvisno sceno pripeljati v sistem financiranja, ki je primerljiv z javnim sektorjem. To je bil odgovor, konkurenca praviloma zaprtim institucijam. Konec devetdesetih let prejšnjega stoletja je bil čas, ko je neodvisna scena zakopala bojne sekire z javnimi institucijami. In tudi javna scena je prepoznala, da je prišla nova generacija z umetniškimi, finančnimi in produkcijskimi argumenti in da je postala resen sogovornik. Institucije so se morale začeti odpirati.

Se ti zdi, da so se?Ta poskus je deloma propadel. Še imamo ljudi, ki se zaveda-jo, da manihejsko prikazovanje gledaliških institucij kot zlo ni koristno. Ampak po mojem občutku so se bojne sekire v zadnjem času ponovno izkopale. In to ni v redu. Ključno je, da je imel instrument večletnih pogodb za nevladne organizacije pozitivne posledice, vsaj kar se tiče stabilnosti, če odmisliva višino sredstev, ki je med vladnim in nevladnim sektorjem še vedno neprimerljiva, hkrati pa je imel tudi negativne posle-dice. Mnogo ustvarjalcev na sceni je zaspalo, prepričani, da so najboljši v mestu, v državi in da so za vekomaj upravičeni do dotoka proračunskega denarja. V tem delu so postale NVO primerljive tradicionalnim institucijam. Najhujši hendikep kulturne politike danes je, da so iz tega monopolija izpadle

nove generacije. Danes imamo v Sloveniji zgolj deloma pre-pustne institucije, javne in nevladne.

Zato je razpravljanje o odvisnosti ali neodvisnosti prav-zaprav irelevantno. Vsaka institucija, če je financirana zaradi neposredne politične odločitve (ustanovitev s strani države ali mesta – op. ur.) ali zaradi javnega pooblastila (priznanje statu-sa delovanja v javnem interesu, ki ga javni organi podeljujejo nevladnim ustanovam – op. ur.), mora biti odprta, pretočna. Od tod pravilo, ki ga promoviram že leta: samo en zaporeden mandat direktorja v javni instituciji. Tako pravilo bi moralo veljati tudi za osebe zasebnega prava. Tudi tukaj že 15, 20 let gledamo stare obraze.

Ampak če tako posežeš tudi v strukturo nevladne organizaci-je, v čem je potem sploh razlika med njimi in javnimi? Razen razlik v razpolaganju z javnimi sredstvi in infrastrukturo.Avtonomnost merim na podlagi avtonomnih odločitev. Vpra-šanje je, koliko so neodvisne kadrovske in vsebinske odločitve v javnih institucijah in koliko v NVO. Imamo identične proble-me. Problem političnih imenovanj, denimo, v javnih institu-cijah. Probleme s participacijo stroke pri končnih odločitvah. Ampak tudi tukaj je treba narediti spremembo in si končno priznati: trikotnik, ki je bil zakonsko usklajen – politični odlo-čevalec-uradnik-stroka –, ni v redu, ne deluje. Dva sta odveč. Naj stroka odloča o porazdelitvi javnega denarja. Ni bistven problem to, da je danes denarja manj. Problem je pametna, pravična – za področje umetnosti sumljiv pojem, pa vendarle – porazdelitev sredstev na podlagi strokovne presoje. Politika naj se oddalji, uradniki pa naj predstavljajo samo javni servis za vodenje korektnih upravno-pravnih postopkov.

V kulturni politiki so bistveni trije pojmi: vizija, udejanjanje, pomen. Ima slovenska kulturna politika na splošno vizijo ter ali jo dosledno udejanja? Ali v primerjavi z anglosa-ksonskim modelom, denimo, upravičimo smisel javnega v kulturnem?Vsakokratna vlada ima vizijo. Prva, Demosova, je imela ne-gativno vizijo, ki je povzročila velikanske težave na področju kreativne industrije. Filmska produkcija, sistem knjigarn, celo založbe so bile čez noč privatizirane. Država se je kratko malo odmaknila od tistega, česar sama ni razumela kot kulturo.

česar sama ni razumela? In pika?česar sama ni razumela: knjižna veriga, avdiovizualna pro-dukcija. Tega še zdaj ne razume. Knjižno še nekako, tudi po zaslugi nekdaj uradnika, odgovornega za področje knjige, danes pa aktualnega ministra dr. Uroša Grilca. Filmske pa ne, ker ustvarjalci politik ne razumejo, kako poteka, recimo, distribucija.

Levo usmerjene vlade so imele pogosto dobre vizije. So pa obenem stavile na socialne transferje. O tem priča že prvi krovni zakon o kulturi, ki je nastal leta 1995 pod vodstvom Sergija Pelhana4 in je prinesel veliko zaščito javne kulturne infrastrukture; ta pojem je tudi uvedel. Ta zaščita nas že ves čas rešuje pred privatizacijo.

5 Uroš Grilc je bil med letoma 2007 in 2013 vodja Oddelka za kulturo na ljubljanski Mestni občini (op. ur.).

Vendar pa nobeni od njih ni uspelo osvežiti sistema, ker so bile leve vlade vedno zelo podvržene sindikalnim poga-janjem. Vlada vedno pomisli na sindikate. Tudi sam sem bil eden od pogajalcev, ko se je pripravljala sprememba plačnega sistema, in moram reči, da sindikati bolje ščitijo konservativ-ne ustanove, kot bi to počela katera koli, še tako konservativna politika. Bil sem šokiran. Sindikati ostajajo močni igralci, ampak ne verjemimo jim preveč. Prenova kulturnega javnega sektorja se bo morala prej ali slej zgoditi, tudi v imenu prihaja-jočih generacij.

Kakšno je bilo torej udejanjanje slovenske kulturne politike?Prišli smo do točke, ko vemo, kje nekateri modeli operativno ne zdržijo. Tudi po veljavni zakonodaji. Kategorija samoza-poslenih v kulturi, recimo. Ta preprosto ne zdrži, čeprav so bili zadaj dobri nameni. Zadevo bo treba korenito zagrabiti in spremeniti, če naj se to siromaštvo še reši, če je še čas. Tu je prišlo tudi do defenzive kulturne politike, scena pa je bila premalo glasna, ko so se te spremembe delale.

Drugi problem je povezan z vlogo in samorefleksijo uradnikov. Oddaljili so se od scene, od terena. Oddaljili so se celo od definicije uradnika kot javnega sužnja, ki mora delati v prid pogodbenim in drugim uporabnikom. Naredili so nekaj, kar je zame nepojmljivo: zaprli so se v svoje pisarne in komu-nicirajo na daljavo.

K temu lahko pritaknemo še en element, ki je zelo pomemben in kar nekaj indicev je, da se to dogaja: uradniki

so kar naenkrat postali producenti vsebin in dogodkov. To je zločin. Uradnik mora voditi postopke in biti do vseh enako pravičen. Tu je v zadnjih desetih letih prišlo do odklona in tega ne razumem. Ko smo bili mi uradniki, smo vedeli, zakaj smo tam.

Govoriva tudi o aktualnem ministru. Je eden od bolj eksplici-tno in suvereno producentskih uradnikov.On je zdaj politik. Prej je bil uradnik. Močno upam, da te preslikave ne bo naredil. Saj bi bilo produciranje s političnega položaja še bolj problematično. Te popadke, vemo, so vedno imele desne vlade. Mislim, da se bo kolega Grilc, kar se tega tiče, unesel, resda pa se je kot načelnik oddelka za kulturo MOL5 ukvarjal tudi z drobnarijami, ki niso bile ravno primer-ne njegovi funkciji.

Mnogi uradniki skratka ne razumejo svoje vloge. A to se dogaja tudi na sami sceni. Ljudje ne znajo igrati svoje vloge do konca, zapacajo jo. Tudi scena je obljubila marsikaj, denimo sprožila naj bi tožbe proti državi zaradi padca lanskega pro-jektnega razpisa na področju uprizoritvenih umetnosti, pa ni naredila ničesar.

Govorimo o dejavni avtocenzuri, tudi ustvarjalcev?Tako je. In to ni igranje vloge. če si umetnik, če je tvoje verje-tje res usmerjeno v izpostavljanje lastne estetske zgodbe, torej v najbolj svobodomiselno dejanje, moraš iti do konca. Vse-kakor moraš iti do konca. Ne smeš razmišljati, kakšne bodo



posledice načelnega dejanja. Dovolj je bilo nenačelnosti! Ko bo vsak peljal svojo vlogo do konca, bo jasnejša tudi identifi-kacija tarče. Danes preprosto ne vemo, komu govorimo. če to primerjaš z osemdesetimi leti – takrat je bila tarča zelo jasna. Govorili smo proti partiji, proti JLA in vedeli smo, kaj hočemo.

Ko govorimo o izvajanju, o izvrševanju vizij ali utopij v kulturnopolitičnih okvirih, je to vedno stvar več deležnikov. Ni kriva samo politika ali samo uradnik. Samo scena. Vsi skupaj smo krivi. Tu nas še čaka velikanski proces profesionalizacije.

Kakšen je pomen slovenske kulture z vidika kulturnih politik?Kar bi si sam želel, je prepoznanje kulture, kulturne industrije, če hočeš, ne samo kot – konservativno rečeno − identifikacij-ske točke države, naroda, marveč predvsem kot tisto, kar je prihodnost. Tudi v ekonomskem smislu, tudi v smislu tega, čemur pritrjujejo vse analize o tem, kakšna je donosnost kulturnih dobrin na trgu. Umetniki, ki se imajo izrecno za umetnike, se nimajo česa bati. Danes smo priče prastrahu: prišli bodo neoliberalni norci in poskušali vse poslati na trg. To pa nima zveze z realnostjo. Naš model je še vedno relativno zaščitniški do tega področja, tu je splošen konsenz, ki ga je treba izkoristiti.

Obstaja splošen konsenz? Ali govorimo o ostanku idealov, ki niso več živi?Obstaja. če pogledamo statistiko, koliko BDP-ja se v Sloveniji pretaka v po mojem ne dovolj obširno pojmovano kulturo,

koliko ljudi se s temi panogami ukvarja, je to približno 50.000 ljudi, ki so posredno ali neposredno odvisni, ne samo od proračuna, pač pa od kulturnega gospodarstva. To ni majhna masa. Kar naenkrat to postane zelo pomembna zgodba. Zgod-bo o prvoborstvu, o identiteti bo treba ozemljiti; prihaja nova generacija, ki razume celo to, da ni nujno, da je vsak evro, ki ga dobiš iz proračunskega denarja, tisti evro, ki ga potrebuješ za svoje preživetje. Treba je iti onstran samozadostnih zadev. Soočiti se je treba s tem, da smo hkrati tudi v EU, da imamo tam relativno moč, da si izpogajamo boljše pogoje. Imamo potencial, da zgodbo razširimo.

Pomembno je tudi to, da ni nujno vse neposredno odvi-sno od javnega denarja. Upoštevajmo dobre vzorčne modele iz tujine, recimo področje davčnih olajšav, položaj samozapo-slenih delavcev (in ne delodajalcev, kot se samozaposlene v kulturi obravnava v naših krajih). Italijanski model, denimo, pri obnovah ali novogradnjah javne infrastrukture narekuje obvezen odkup umetniških del. In tako naprej. Rešitve so, treba jih je spraviti na papir, potem pa v prakso.

Izmuzljiv si. Nekatere stvari, ki jih govoriš, te ostro pozicioni-rajo na stran bavbava, ki si ga prej omenil – neoliberalizma. Hkrati pa zagovarjaš nekatere ideale, ki gotovo ne spadajo tja. Lahko na podlagi modela, ki ga poskušaš vzpostaviti v Kinu Šiška, razložiš to svojo – očitno srednjo – pot ali realpo-litično vizijo kulturne prakse? Denimo, zakaj je Kino Šiška javni zavod? Kolikor vem, je bilo to sprva odprto vprašanje.

Pri pridobivanju sredstev za obnovo so bile vpletene nevladne organizacije, ki so potem odpadle.Niso odpadle. Ustanovljen je bil odbor za obnovo Kina Šiške, v katerem so bili predstavniki Asociacije. Seveda pa so – kot obi-čajno v Sloveniji – v takih društvih različne frakcije. Ena je bila gledališka, druga glasbena. In prišlo je do boja med frakcija-ma. Ampak Asociacija ima še vedno svojega delegata v svetu Kina Šiška. To se mi zdi dober model participacije deloma pri usmeritvi, deloma pri nadzoru.

Tak model bi bil lahko simpatičen pri sestavi bodočih svetov javnih zavodov. Sedanja praksa sestave svetov je jasna: na eni strani ustanovitelj, na drugi varovalka, strokovnjaki z različnih področij, vendar pa ima ustanovitelj absolutno večino. Potem je tu vsaj en predstavnik zaposlenih. Kje pa so uporabniki? Pri nas imamo dva zastopnika strokovne in inte-resne javnosti. Mene pa zanima korak naprej, kje so predstav-niki uporabnikov?

Obstajajo modeli skupnostne umetnosti (community art) in skupnostnega gledališča (community theatre), ki ga pri nas izvaja predvsem zavod Bunker s celoletnimi projekti v svoji soseski. Toda ali je smiselno, da gredo sredstva za to iz iste malhe kot za Opero in balet? Ne govorimo o popolnoma dru-gem konceptu javnega dobrega?Tu pridemo do boleče točke. Omenil si SNG Opero in balet. Lahko bi omenil Slovensko filharmonijo. Ali pa tri simfonične orkestre, ki jih premoremo. Zelo zanimivo je. V devetdesetih so potekale legitimne razprave o tem, ali potrebujemo toliko takih umetniških korpusov ljudi, zaposlenih do smrti. O tem so potekale javne polemike. Teh polemik zdaj ni.

Odpirati moramo boleča vprašanja. Ali potrebujemo toliko javnih institucij v Sloveniji? Toliko teatrov? Toliko mu-zejev? Toliko galerij? Toliko kulturnih centrov, ki jih imamo, oba veva, štirideset delujočih. Muzejev pa še bistveno več. To so legitimne debate, pri katerih je treba biti argumentacijsko izjemno prepričljiv, pa tudi previden.

Vedeti je treba, da so načini produkcije zelo različni. čemu so posvečena glasbena gledališča? Jaz bi jim rekel živa dediščina, ki ima zgolj malenkost opraviti z umetnostjo. Italijani imajo recimo opere razvrščene v rubriko kulturni turizem.

Kar spada pod kulturne industrije?Recimo.

Naša reakcija na vsako omembo takih vprašanj je morda defenzivna zaradi prej omenjene oddaljenosti uradnikov, v praksi izkazane arogance. Bojimo se, da čim se odprejo vrata v to smer, bodo stvari šle do konca, da bomo nazadnje ukinili vse.Ne. Mislim, da ni bila nikoli ambicija ne levih ne desnih vlad, da bi vse ukinili. Spraševalo se je o privatizacijah, ne samo v upravljavskem smislu, za katere sam razmeroma navijam, da se zagotovi pretočnost uprav, vodstev. Gre tudi za to, da se vzpostavi, pa naj zveni še tako neoliberalno, gibkost zapo-

slovanja. To pomeni tudi mehkost odpuščanja. Ta je najtrši oreh. Sindikati vztrajajo. Rečem jim: dragi Svizec, draga Glosa, vidva ščitita prazna delovna mesta. Se sprašujeta, kdo zaseda delovna mesta in kaj tam dela? Se ne bi vprašali drugače? Direktorji imamo opravka s konkretnimi ljudmi. Nič nam ne pomaga, da ščitimo dosmrtna delovna mesta. Jaz imam to izjemno prednost, da sem lahko postavil svojo ekipo. Pomagal sem ustanoviti nov javni zavod. če bi kot direktor nekoga na-sledil in podedoval 160 ljudi, zaposlenih v določeni instituciji, da ne govorim o 300, bi lahko naredil – kaj? Da bi uresničil svojo programsko vizijo?

Kateri so elementi modela Kina Šiška, ki so aplikabilni širše?Vzorec zaposlovanja za določen čas, za pet let. Prepričan sem, da se bo izkazal kot dober. Mandat meni je hkrati man-dat ekipi. Ko mandat poteče, je možno – kadar je to smisel-no – zadevo tudi programsko drugače zarobiti. Direktor ima ponovno možnost reelekcije svojih ljudi. Lahko obdrži vse, lahko se odloči zamenjati nekaj ljudi, lahko pride s povsem novo ekipo.

To je pomembno sporočilo direktorjem in zaposlenim v drugih javnih institucijah. Vendar moramo biti pazljivi, ne smemo metati vseh v isti koš. Izhajamo iz različnih načinov produkcije. Prireditveni centri in gledališča delujejo drugače kot knjižnice, kaj šele arhivi, ki tudi sodijo pod pristojnost in so sestavni del kulture. Ali pa recimo, vsaj deloma, muzeji. Za prvi dve področji je treba vzpostaviti nov model. V knjižničar-skem sistemu, kjer je praktično vse normirano, in v arhivskem je opis dela natančen, tako kot pri vojski ali policiji. Zanje lahko veljajo drugačna pravila. Za zgodbe gledališč, priredi-tvenih in produkcijskih centrov, deloma tudi muzejev in gale-rij, ki niso zazrte samo v preteklost in se ne ukvarjajo samo s fundusi, ampak so tudi žive ustanove, je treba vzpostaviti nov model. Tudi zaposlovanja.

Kino Šiško si zdaj kot model ogleduje tudi Evropa. Tam so preuranjeno šli v prevetritev, preveč na trg. Nevladne organizacije so prepustili agoniji, nimajo modelov in zaščit, kot obstajajo pri nas, in sprašujejo se, kaj so naredili narobe. Imajo pa različne sisteme. Pogosto so tam regionalne in lokal-ne skupnosti tiste, ki morajo vzpodbujati ustvarjanje, manj država. Slovenija je tako majhna, da je to mogoče nadzorovati.

Ampak zakaj mora biti ta model, model Kina Šiške, javni za-vod? Zakaj ne nevladna organizacija? Kakšna bi bila razlika?Dokler se sistemsko ne spremeni položaj NVO-jev, je zaščita za dobrobit javnega mnogo jasnejša v okvirih javnega zavoda.

Ni to v celoti odvisno od tebe? Od tega, ki je nastavljen? Mar ne bo, če v javni zavod parkirajo koga, ki hoče v njem ždeti naslednjih štirideset let, ta spremenil statut in ždel?Tudi pri NVO se zastavlja isto vprašanje. Kar se tiče delovanja in nadzorovanja javne institucije, morajo biti stvari jasne in pregledne. Zato navijam za to, kar mi prakticiramo: da so vsi podatki, vključno z bilancami, strategijo itn., na spletu.



NVO imajo isto zavezo. Zavodi in društva imajo dolžnost jav-nosti posredovati podatke o delovanju.Nimajo pa vpogleda v njihovo delovanje informacijska poo-blaščenka, protikorupcijska komisija, računsko sodišče. Niti, če so financirani iz javnih sredstev. Primer je ŠOU v Ljubljani. Problem nepreglednosti poslovanja, ker so oseba zasebnega prava.

če mene vprašaš, bi to delovalo, če bi lahko NVO dobile pooblastilo za izvajanje javne službe, tako kot to velja v izobra-ževanju, koncesijskih dejavnostih itn.; v takem primeru bi bila oblika NVO v času, ko se je Šiška vzpostavljala, primerna, ker bi imela nad sabo vse nadzorne mehanizme.

Potem praviš, da ni zakonske podlage za podelitev koncesije za izvajanje javnega interesa v kulturi? Da si se zato odločil za javni zavod?Podlaga obstaja. To je preudarek, ki je potekal na relaciji interesne skupnosti, NVO-jev in mestne občine, ki je na koncu sprejela odločitev, da je boljši tak model, kot pa model, ki ni preizkušen. Ustanovitelja je treba v takem primeru razumeti.

Saj imamo tudi drug primer – Center kulture Španski Borci so čisti primer upravljavca. Vse to smo omogočili s spremembo zakonodaje. V odprtem postopku prideš do upra-vljavca, mu v pogodbi naložiš, kar zahteva lastnik in večinski financer, in tako vzpostaviš paralelni model.

Vprašanje pa ostaja: pred časom je v javno razpravo stopil predlog ministrice za javno upravo Irme Pavlinič Krebs,6 ki je predlagala radikalen pristop, ki bi morda prišel prav tudi kulturi: delna privatizacija upravljanja javne infrastrukture. Preobrazba tistih javnih zavodov, ki bi lahko delovali izven sistema javnih uslužbencev, ki je lahko velikanska cokla, in ponudba tistim, ki bi lahko s koncesijami in z jasnimi pravili in odgovornostmi, ki so vezana na vodstvo takih koncesijsko podeljenih hiš, izvajali javno dobro.

In tu si prav ugotovil. Kot uradnik sem se odločil: ne prehitevajmo situacije, ker so lahko nekatere stvari absolutno tvegane, dokler nimaš ustrezne pravne podlage.

Pred tridesetimi leti si bil aktivist, ki se je odločil zavzeti prazen bunker, da bi ustvaril nov kulturni prostor. Ko pa ga trideset let kasneje ustvarjaš, ga strukturiraš enako ali vsaj označiš z enako tablico, kakršno si hotel takrat izruvati s stene in poteptati pod nogami.V teh letih sem se naučil, da je treba pravočasno oditi in predati štafeto drugim. To sem naredil takrat, tisti, ki so me nasledili, tega niso znali in danes seveda Bunkerja ni več. In to že mnogo let. Upam, da se Šiški ne bo zgodilo kaj podobnega.

Končajva: se ti ne zdi simptomatično, da sva v tem pogovoru umetnike omenila bežno? Pri novih modelih sva govorila o vključevanju uporabnikov. Kaj pa proizvajalci?V Kinu Šiška odpiramo prostor mladim generacijam, govori-mo o umetnikih, seveda. Resda pa nimamo stalnega umetni-škega jedra, smo producenti dogodkov; vse, kar počnemo, je povezano z umetniki, domačimi in tujimi. Tudi organizatorji

umetniških dogodkov, Kino Šiška, Metelkova ali bivša Cve-tličarna, bistveno prispevajo k položaju umetnika. Nudijo mu prostor, da se predstavi, dajo mu honorar. In to je to, kar umetnika zanima: kako predstaviti svoje delo in kako priti do denarja za svoje ustvarjanje. Drži?

V tvojem modelu, sploh če ga jemljeva vzorčno, vidim pro-blem: stroko premakneš k politiki in uradništvu, na ministr-stvo, češ, naj se tam odloča, sem pa postaviš strukturo produ-centa.In participatornega sistema. Ta sistem je vključevalski. Mi dnevno dobivamo zamisli, pobude, dnevno vabimo ljudi na pogovore. Naš sistem je izrazito projekten. Bistvena je vsebi-na, potem termin in nazadnje finance. Najprej nas zanima, kaj nam določen človek, umetnik, producent, agent prinaša. Smo pa tudi sami producenti dogodkov, tudi mi smo aktivni. Nekateri deležniki na sceni so si predstavljali, da bo Šiška nabiralnik nekoga drugega. Na tako tezo ne pristajamo, takih nabiralnikov je v Sloveniji tako ali tako preveč. Ko postaneš nabiralnik, ne moreš več delati profilacije, izgubiš prepoznav-nost. Vendar ni lahko, odločitve niso enostavne.

6 Irma Pavlinič Krebs, slovenska od-vetnica in političarka, med letoma 2008 in 2011 je bila ministrica za javno upravo RS (op. ur.).

Simon Kardum 41 ROTTEN RAMPARTS

Let’s begin by focusing on the development of cultural politics in Slovenia. you have been following them since the 80s. you started as a critic and theoretician. My career has been very diverse. As a student, I was one of the writers of the manifesto for the occupation of the then bunker on Gerbičeva Street in Ljubljana. The late yugoslavia was not in a state of war so it did not need the space for the reasons it had been built. As it was in the direct vicinity of student housing, we occupied it and B-51, Bunker 51, was born.1 This was a time of struggle for creative spaces, the 80s. That’s when all the important institutions opened. The only spaces that the independent, alternative scene had up to then were ŠKUC (founded in 1972) and the Glej (then called Experimen-tal) Theatre.2 Later, KUD France Prešeren, FV, K4 appeared.3 This was a time of giving meaning to our entire generation’s undertakings. In various artistic projects we were building our own, parallel system of art and production. It is inconceiv-able, from today’s viewpoint, that the likes of anything such as Baptism Under triglav by Dragan Živadinov in 1986 could be repeated in the largest hall, Gallus Hall, of Cankarjev Dom.4 Cankarjev Dom was then a true home for all. Its infrastructure was open to good ideas and good teams.

We were fighting for creative spaces then, politically for students’ and artists’ rights and against (as we called them then) rotten ramparts. Our target was clear: one needs a space to bring one’s visions to life.

Finances were not the central problem to survival?yes and no. Let’s not forget that the media worked very dif-ferently then. Editors were open to younger generations of writers, they detected good writers and paid (us) well. These days, anyone not employed by the public sector is only com-pensated well as a collaborator of public institutions: public theatres and public television and radio. But it is also true that we were believers and madmen then; we believed in our stories, money was not at the forefront. Later, despite having a decent infrastructure, theatre networks, publishing networks, event networks … there was a saturation of production. This is something that I also noticed as a government official [Minis-try of Culture RS, between 1997 and 2005. – Ed. Note]. We at-tempted to bring about equilibrium between the institutional and independent poles. We instituted the instrument of the calls for long-term programs and contracts, targeted funds for the independent scene, transparent procedures.

And we prescribed all these to the local communities. The negotiations with their representatives were actually the worst.

If we look at the open nature of this mechanism and compare it to European procedures, local or those in Brus-sels, and with other sectors – education, for example – our procedures are structured well. On the nominal level. I’m not talkingaboutthefinaleffects,butinmytimeattheMinistryof Culture, a system was instituted that had not existed in the 90s. When I became a public official, the whole thing was quite opaque; the public sector was being favored.

Simon KardumROTTENRAMPARTS

1 The name derives from the American B-52 bomber and the house number of the student housing in Gerbičeva Street: 51. It was an underground (primarily music) club, hosting the burgeoning punk and new-wave scenes of the 80s.2 Glej Experimental Theatre, founded in the early 70s, was the first non-governmental theatre in Slovenia; the ŠKUC Association Student Cultural Centre, established in roughly

the same period, was one of the most important supporters and promoters of alternative culture in the 70s and 80s.3 KUD FP is a venue and production house, hosting everything from community and amateur art and culture to music, visual arts and theatre. Disco FV was a punk and alternative club in late-80s Ljubljana. K4 is a club promoting al-ternative culture since the early 90s and founded by the student organization.

4 Gallus Hall of Cankarjev Dom is the larg-est hall in the largest cultural centre in Slovenia. Baptism... was a theatre project by progressive theatre group The Sisters of Scipio Nasica The-atre, a politically and aesthetically controversial but very influential piece of grandiose theatre by the then very young director Živadinov.

POSTALTERNATIvE IN SLOvENIA1993–2013


5 Mitja Rotovnik has been the manager of the Cankarjev Dom cultural and congress centre in Ljubljana since its founding in 1982; he was also part of the drive to build it. (Ed. Note)

6 Jožef Školč, Slovenian politician, between 1997 and 2000 he was the Minister of Culture. (Ed. Note)

And how does one go from activist to publicist and then to public official?In the 90s, I first became an artistic director; the first two edi-tions of the Exodos Festival are the results of the selections and logistics brought about by my colleague Miran Šušteršič and myself. This was then a success story. A precedent. It was the first international festival of the performing arts in the country,networkingdifferentvenues.Thefestivalnestedinthe core of then already ossified rampart Cankarjev Dom and our collaboration with its eternal manager Mitja Rotovnik was civil.5 But most of all, that was a time when the whole scene had great potential. It was not only artistically strong – which it still is to a point – it also had an audience.

Where has the audience gone?That’s a complex question, to be addressed to several partici-pants in the system. And one which we must begin solving.

Has it fractured or has it disappeared?Partly fractured, partly disappeared. In Ljubljana, for exam-ple, one no longer sees “darkers”. One does in Zagreb. This is partly down to the cultural operators, as they have not been takingcareofculturaleducation,offeringcontenttothissubculture. Partly it depends on the reflection and the edito-rial policies of the media. Partly on the articulation in the hands of experts, essayists, critics. And partly on the artists, who may have somewhat neglected the fact that what they do is meant for someone.

The term of the end-user is one of the big questions which need answering. The eternal accusation to all that is contemporary on the scene is that it is self-satisfied, only concerned with itself. Such an accusation must be answered; we must open up our work, our spaces.

But, of course, we must not only talk about how to fight “the old ones”, but must also solve this from within the system. A march on the institutions then – in my case, the bureaucracy, the Ministry of Culture. Working in the expert committees was a good education for me. I saw that not every-thing that comes from the scene is worth its weight in gold. AndIbegantoaskmyselfaboutthedifferentrolesthesceneplays. When you are on the other side, decisions and judg-ments are not so easy.

In 1997, they invited me to the Ministry of Culture, to become the expert official for the field of theatre. And I said: let’s try. As an official with an ear for what’s going on and with my previous experiences and having been in an eternal strug-gle with the political decision makers, it took me five years to find out the secrets of bureaucratic work. In 2005, when I left the Ministry, I made my first call to my first Minister, Jožef Školč.6 I thanked him for the invitation.

you left on your own, right?I left on my own. In protest. The then government demoted me from leader of the Directorate for Art to a dislocated Metelkova, into the “punishment battalion”, to the position of

expert official for Roma issues. As a diligent official, I elabo-rated that in three months and then had nothing else to do.

When the Municipality of Ljubljana invited you to be part of the founding of the new institute of Kino Šiška you said that you would only accept the position of acting manager until the final establishment of the institution. That you would then leave …No.IacceptedtheofferbecauseIliketotakechances.Butthestory developed. Luckily, I was able to influence some project changes in the conception phase of this future public insti-tution. One of my terms was that I would be the one to take over the human resources and the one who would attempt to showcase a new model of production, organization and com-munication using the model of Kino Šiška.

We will return to this question, but let’s go back a moment. Can you compare your career path to the developmental path of culture in the same period?As a generation, we tried to invent new production models. Differentfromthoseinthepublicinstitutions:mobile,adapt-able ones, ones applying to status reform, ones that may be other than public. And we developed all that with compara-tive studies, debates, writings, argumentation. Things grew from the bottom up, argumentation coalesced. This is why it was not hard to convince the politicians that the independent scene had to be brought into a system of financing compara-ble to the public sector. This was the answer, competition with the usually closed institutions. The 90s were a time when the independent scene buried the proverbial hatchet with the public institutions. And the public scene recognized that a new generation had arrived with artistic, financial and pro-duction arguments, had come as a serious party to the conver-sation. The institutions had to begin to open.

And did they?This attempt failed in part. We still have people who are aware that a Manichean depiction of theatre institutions as evil is not productive. But it seems to me that the hatchets have been dug up again recently. And this is bad. The instrument of mul-ti-year contracts had beneficial consequences for the NGOs, at least as it applies to stability, if we ignore the sizes of the subsidies, which are still incomparable between the govern-mental and non-governmental sectors. But it also had detri-mental consequences: many of the scene’s creators have fallen asleep, certain that they are the best in town, in the country, eternally privy to the influx of public funds. In this respect, some NGOs have become very much alike with the traditional institutions. The biggest handicap of today’s cultural politics is that new generations have been left out from this game of monopoly. Slovenia’s contemporary institutions are only par-tially permeable, both the public and the private ones.

This is why discussing dependence or independence is actually irrelevant. Every institution, whether funded due to a direct political decision (being founded by the state or mu-nicipality) or due to public license (the status of being in the

7 DEMOS was a coalition of democratic political parties that emerged after December 1989 when the Communist government permit-ted multiparty political life in Slovenia. In the

first democratic elections in April 1990, DEMOS won 54% of the votes and formed the first multi-party government of the country.

8 Sergij Pelhan, Slovenian politician and sociologist, between 1993 and 1996, he was the Minister of Culture. (Ed. Note)9 2007–2013

public interest, granted by public bodies to the NGOs), should be open, permeable. Hence the rule I’ve been promoting for years: a single mandate for the managers of public institu-tions. Such a rule should also apply to private institutions. Here, also, we’ve been looking at old faces for 15, 20 years.

But if you intervene in the structure of an NGO to that extent,whatisthedifferencebetweenthemandpublic ones? Except in the availability of funding and public infrastructure.I measure autonomy based on autonomous decision making. The question is how independent the decisions regarding cad-re and content in public institutions are as compared to the NGOs. We have identical problems. For example, the problem of politically motivated appointments in public institutions. The problems of whether the profession participates in the fi-nal decisions. Here, too, we must make a change and admit to ourselves: the triangle that has been written into law, that of political decision maker–bureaucrat–the profession is not OK, does not work. Two are extraneous. Let the profession decide about the distribution of public funds. The key problem is not that there’s less money. The key problem is the smart, fair – the latter being a suspicious term in the context of the arts, but still – distribution of funds based on professional judg-ment. Politics should take a step back and the bureaucrats become only public servants for the oversight of fair legal and public proceedings.

In cultural politics, three terms are key: vision, rendition, purpose. Do Slovenian cultural politics in general have a vi-sion? Is it being concisely rendered, carried out? Do we, when compared for example to the Anglo-Saxon model, justify the purpose of publicly funded culture?Each individual government has a vision. The first, the Demos one,7 had a negative vision, which brought about horrendous problems in the field of creative industries. Film production, the publishing system, the publishing houses were privatized overnight. The state simply withdrew from what it didn’t understand as culture.

From what it didn’t understand? Period?From what it didn’t understand. The publishing chain, audio-visual production. It still lacks understanding. Perhaps not of publishing, thanks to one-time official responsible for pub-lishing and now Minister of Culture Uroš Grilc. But certainly of film, because the policy makers do not understand how, for example, distribution works.

Left-leaning governments often had good visions. But they also focused on social transfers. This can be seen already in the first umbrella law on culture from 1995, edited by Sergej Pelhan.8 It brought about methods to protect public cultural infrastructure; in fact, it introduced this term. It is this protec-tion that has been shielding us from privatization.

But none of them could revamp the system, as the left governments have always been subject to negotiations with

the syndicates. A government always thinks about the syndi-cates. I myself was one of the negotiators, when a change of the system of wages was being prepared, and I must say that the syndicates protect the conservative institutions more than any politician, no matter how conservative, ever would. I was shocked. The syndicates remain strong players, but let’s not believe in them too strongly. The cultural sector will have to be restructured sooner or later, not least for the sake of the coming generations.

So what has the rendition of Slovene cultural politics been like?We’ve reached a point where we now see that some models are not operationally viable. Even in the law as it stands. The category of the self-employed in the cultural field, for exam-ple. It simply does not work, even though it may have been well intentioned. It must be firmly grasped and changed, if anything is still left to be saved, if there’s still time. Here, cul-tural politics, the politicians themselves, went on the defen-sive and the scene was not loud enough when these changes were being made.

The second problem is connected with the role and self-reflection of the bureaucrats. They have distanced themselves from the scene, from the beat. They’ve even distanced them-selves from the definition of bureaucrat as public servant, having to work for the good of his or her contractual and other users. They’ve done something unfathomable to me: they’ve locked themselves inside their offices and communi-cate from afar.

There’s another very important element we might add and there are several indications that this is happening: the bureaucrats have all of a sudden become producers of content and events. This is a crime. An official must lead the produc-ers and be equally fair to everyone. In the last 10 years, a de-viation has occurred and I don’t understand it. When we were bureaucrats, we knew what we were doing there.

We are also talking about the current Minister of Culture. He is one of the more explicit and authoritative producers among bureaucrats. He is now a politician. He used to be a bureaucrat. I sincerely hope that he will not make this transference. Producing from a political office would be even more problematic. These were the pangs, as we know, of the right-wing governments. I be-lieve that my colleague Grilc will come around on this issue, but it is true that while he was head of the culture department of the Municipality of Ljubljana9 he dealt with particularities that were not pertinent to his office.

Many officials do not understand their role. But the same happens on the scene. People don’t know how to play their role to the end, they muddy it up. The scene itself has made promises: it was going to, for example, sue the govern-ment due to last year’s debacle about the call for projects for the performing arts, but it has done nothing.



10 The yugoslav National Army.11 Asociacija, Association of Arts and Culture NGOs and Freelancers, a network that has been informally operating since 1992, is

today professionally coordinated and joins 93 organizations and individuals.12 Bunker Institute is a non-profit organi-zation for the realization and organization of

cultural events established in 1997 by Nevenka Koprivšek. Bunker produces and presents con-temporary theatre and dance performances and organizes one of the most noted international

theatre and dance festivals, the Mladi Levi ("young Lions") Festival. It also manages the Old Power Station performing arts venue in Ljubljana.

Are we talking about active self-censorship, even by the creators?yes. And this is not playing the role. If you are an artist, if your belief is focused on exposing your own aesthetic narrative, the most free-willed of actions, then you must go all the way. you must emphatically go all the way. you must not think about the consequences of your principled action. Enough opportunism. Once everyone carries their role all the way, the target will be much easier to identify. Today, we simply don’t know who we are talking to. Comparing that to the 80s – then, the target was very clear. We spoke against the Party, against the yNA10 and we knew what we wanted.

When discussing rendering, carrying out visions or utopias in the frame of the politics of culture, we are always dealing with a number of participants. It is not the fault of only politics or the bureaucracy. Or only the scene. It is all ofourfaults.Ahumongousefforttoprofessionalizeawaits us there.

What I wish for personally is the recognition of culture, the cultural industries if you will, not only as, conservatively speaking, the identity point of a state, a nation, but crucially as that which is the future. In the economic sense as well, in the sense supported by all the analyses regarding the prof-itability of cultural goods on the market. The artists who consider themselves exclusively artists have nothing to fear. We are now facing an ur-fear: that the neoliberal madmen will come and try to sell everything. That does not make sense. Our model is still relatively protective of this field and this is a general consensus that must be exploited.

Is there such a consensus? Or are we talking about the rem-nants of ideals that are no longer alive?There is. If we look at the statistics, what part of the Slovenian GNP flows through the, I think too narrowly defined, culture, how many people are working in these fields, the number is 50,000 people who are directly or indirectly connected not only to the state budget but also to the cultural economy. That is not a small number. All of a sudden this becomes a very im-portant story. We must ground the stories of national champi-ons, of identity. A new generation is coming that understands even the fact that not every euro one gets from state funding is necessarily the euro you need to survive. We must move beyond self-satisfactory things. We must face the fact that we are also in the EU, that we have relative power there to better our conditions. We have a potential to expand this story.

It is also important that not everything should depend on public funding. We should adhere to good example cases from abroad, the field of tax exemptions for example, the position of the self-employed workers (and not employers, as the self-employed are considered locally). The Italian model, for example, makes obligatory the purchase of artworks when renovating or building public infrastructure. And so on. The solutions are there. We must put them to paper and thenintoeffect.

you are elusive. Some of the things you say position you firmly on the side of the aforementioned bogeyman – neolib-eralism. And yet, at the same time, you defend some ideals that clearly do not belong there. Can you, based on the model you are trying to establish in Kino Šiška, explain this – ap-parently middle – path or this realpolitik vision of cultural practice? For example, why is Kino Šiška a public institution? As far as I know, this was at first an open issue. When gather-ing the funding for renovation, several NGOs were involved which later fell away.They did not fall away. A committee for the renewal of Kino Šiška was founded in which there were representatives of Asociacija.11 However, as is usual in Slovenia, such associa-tionshavedifferentfactions:onewaslinkedtotheperform-ing arts, the other to music. And the two factions quarreled. But Asociacija still has a delegate on the board of Kino Šiška. That seems to me a good model of participation, partly in plotting the course, partly in oversight.

Such a model could work well when putting together other boards of institutions. The practice now is clear: the founder on one hand, on the other, a check and balance, professionals from various fields, with the founder having the majority. And at least one representative of the employ-ees. But where are the users? We have two representatives of the professional and interested public. But I want to know about a further step, where are the representatives of the users?

There are models of community art, community theatre, locally mostly presented by the Bunker Institute,12 with its yearly neighborhood projects. But does it make sense that these are funded from the same allocations as the Opera andBallet?Arewenottalkingaboutacompletelydifferentconcept of the public good?Here we reach a sensitive point. you mentioned the Slovene National Theatre Opera and Ballet. you could mention the Slovene Philharmonic. Or the three symphonic orchestras we have. It’s very interesting. In the 90s, legitimate discussions were taking place about whether we need so many artistic corpuses of people, employed until their deaths. There were public discussions about this. There are none now.

We must ask these painful questions. Do we need so many public institutions in Slovenia? So many theatres? So many museums? So many galleries? So many cultural cent-ers? We both know there are 40 of these. And more museums than that. These are legitimate debates in which one must be argumentatively very convincing and also very cautious.

We must know that the modes of production vary wildly. What are the musical theatres dedicated to? I would call them living heritage, only little to do with art. The Italians, for ex-ample, list them under cultural tourism.

Part of the cultural industries?Let’s say.

13 SVIZ and GLOSA are the two syndicates representing most of the publicly employed cultural workers. Svizec is a groundhog.

Our reaction to any mention of such questions is possibly defensive because of the aforementioned distance of the bureaucrats, the arrogance they’ve shown in practice. We fear that as soon as we open the door, things will go all the way, that they’ll end up shutting everything down.No. I don’t believe that it was ever the ambition of the left or right governments to shut everything down. There were discussions of privatizations, not only in the sense of manage-ment, for which I personally root, to ensure the flexibility of management. We must also establish, however neoliberal it sounds, flexible employment. Which also means flexible termination. That is the hardest nut to crack. The syndicates are decided. I say to them: Dear Svizec, Dear Glosa,13 you are defending empty positions. Do they ask themselves who occupies these positions, what they do there? Shouldn’t we askdifferentquestions?Managershavetodealwithactualpeople. It’s not helpful for us to protect these workplaces for life. I have the incredible advantage that I was able to establish my own team. I helped create a new public institution. If, as director, I was to inherit a 160 people, employed in an institu-tion, never mind 300, what would I be able to do? To fulfill my vision?

Which are the elements of the Kino Šiška model that are ap-plicable more widely?The employment for a fixed term, five years. I am sure it will be seen as a good example. My mandate is at the same time a

mandate to my team. When it’s over, it’s possible, if there’s a reason, to change the whole thing even in content and form. The new manager will have the possibility to reelect his or her people. They may keep everyone, change a few people, or change everyone.

This is an important message to the managers and employees in other public institutions. But we must be care-ful,noteverythingfitsthispattern.Wecomefromdifferentmodesofproduction.Venuesandtheatresfunctiondiffer-ently than libraries, never mind archives, which also fall under the purview of culture. Or, at least in part, museums. We should establish new models for the first two fields. In the library and archival systems, the job descriptions are very pre-cise, like in the army or the police. They may work according todifferentrules.Butfortheatres,venues,productioncentersand in part for museums and galleries, which don’t look only to the past and which deal with more than heritage and are also living institutions, a new model must be established. Of employment, too.

Kino Šiška is now being looked to as a model by Europe as well. There, they went into an overhaul too soon, too far into the market. They left their NGOs to wither in agony, they don’t have the models and protections which exist here and they ask themselves what they did wrong. But there are dif-ferent systems. Often, it’s the regions and local communities that must encourage creativity, not the state. Slovenia is small enough that we can control all this.



14 The student organization of Ljubljana, a private institution receiving a cut from all work done by students with little government oversight.

15 Irma Pavlinič Krebs, Slovenian lawyer and politician; between 2008 and 2011, the Minister for Public Administration. (Ed. Note)

16 Metelkova is a semi-legalized squat in Ljubljana, with many venues and production houses for smaller events. Cvetličarna was a primarily concert-oriented venue in Ljubljana.

But why must this model, the model of Kino Šiška, be a public institution? Why not an NGO? What would thedifferencebe?Until the position of NGOs is changed systemically, the protec-tion for the public good is much clearer as part of a public institution.

Doesn’t that completely depend on you? On whomever is appointed? Isn’t it true that if they park someone in a public institute, who wants to linger there for 40 years, that they’ll change the statute and linger?The same question could be asked of the NGOs. As far as the workings and oversight of public institutions is concerned, things must be clear and transparent. This is why I am in favor of what we practice: that all our information, including bal-ance sheets, strategy, etc., is on the web.

NGOs have the same commitment. Private institutes and societies have a duty to present the data on their workings to the public. But they are not subject to the information commissioner, the commission for the prevention of corruption, the court of auditors. Not even when they’re publicly funded. An example is ŠOU of Ljubljana.14 The problem of the lack of transparency of their dealings, as they are subject to civil law.

If you ask me, this could work if NGOs could get a con-tract to carry out a public works, as is already done in educa-tion, concessionary activities, etc.; in this case, an NGO would have been an appropriate form at the time when Šiška was being founded, would have been subject to all the necessary mechanisms of control.

So you’re saying there is no basis in law for granting concessions for the rendition of the public interest in culture to NGOs? That this is the reason you chose a public institution?There are bases. This was a consideration by the interest groups, NGOs and the municipality. The latter finally decided that this model was better than an untested one. We must understand the founder in such a case.

We do have another example – the Španski Borci Culture Centre is a clear example of the administrator. All this we made possible with changes in the law. A transparent process leads you to the administrator, a contract demands what he must do for the owner and largest funder, thereby creating a parallel model.

But the question remains: recently, Irme Pavlinič Krebs15 presented a proposal for a radical approach: a partial privati-zation of the administration of public infrastructure. A transformation of the public institutions that could func-tion outside the system of public employees, which can be agreathurdle;andanoffertothosewhocouldrenderthepublic good through concessions with clear rules and respon-sibilities, connected to administering such concessionally granted infrastructure.

And you are correct in this. As a bureaucrat, I decided: let’s take things slow, as some things may be absolutely risky, until one has the suitable basis in law.

Thirty years ago, you were an activist who decided to occupy an empty bunker to create a new cultural space. When you create a new such space 30 years later, you structure it the same, or at least mark it with the same name tag, as those you oncewishedtopulloffthewallsandtrampleunderyourfeet.In these years, I have learned when to walk away and pass on the torch. I did that then, and those who came after me didn’t know how to and of course B-51 no longer exists and hasn’t for years. I hope nothing like that happens to Šiška.

To come to a close: does it not seem symptomatic to you that we’ve only mentioned artists in passing. In the new models, we spoke of including the end-user. What about the creator?In Kino Šiška, we open the space to the younger generations, talking of course about the artists. We do not, however, have a stable artistic core, we are the producers of events; everything we do is connected to artists, local and foreign. The other organizers of artistic events as well – Kino Šiška, Metelkova or the former Cvetličarna16 – contribute to the state of the artist. Weofferthemspacetopresentthemselves,wepaythemafee. And that’s what an artist is interested in: presenting their work and being paid for it. True?

In your model, particularly when taken as a case study, I see a problem: you move the profession toward the politics and bu-reaucracy, to the Ministry, in order that they make decisions there, while establishing a producer’s structure here. And a participatory system. The system is inclusive. We get ideas,offersdaily;weinvitepeopleovertotalkeveryday.Oursystem is explicitly project-oriented. Content is core, then the dates, and lastly the finances. We are first interested in what aperson,artist,producer,agenthastooffer.Butwealsopro-duce our own events, taking an active role. Some participants in the scene thought that we would only be someone else’s mailbox, but there are too many of those in Slovenia anyway. We wouldn’t agree to that. When you’re a mailbox, you can no longer profile yourself, you lose recognition. But it’s not easy, the decisions aren’t simple.




Janez JanšabRUTALNA RUTINA

Janez Janša 49 bRUTALNA RUTINA

1 Dušan Jovanović, slovenski režiser in dramatik, med letoma 1978 in 1984 je bil ume-tniški vodja Slovenskega mladinskega gledališča (op. ur.).

2 Janez Pipan, slovenski režiser, je bil ravnatelj SNG Drama Ljubljana med letoma 1994 in 2008 (op. ur.).

Tema najinega pogovora je stanje v kulturi in kulturni politiki in njegove korenine. Vse prepogosto rešujemo situacijo tukaj in zdaj, koristno pa bi bilo ugotoviti, kaj nas je pripeljalo do tod. Zaznavam tri ključne preobrate: osamosvojitev, profesio-nalizacija NVO konec devetdesetih in pok mehurčka ter kriza, recimo od leta 2006 dalje. Ampak začniva pri tebi. Tvoja pot skozi te tri točke?Ko se je konec osemdesetih in v začetku devetdesetih pojavila generacija, ki ji tudi sam pripadam, je imela zelo močno in jasno stališče delati izven obstoječih institucij, gledaliških in kulturnih. Fizično. Naš emancipatorni moment je bil vezan na druge, drugačne prostore. Moja prva predstava se je zgodila v zaklonišču B-51, tudi drugi umetniki so delali predstave na lokacijah, ki niso bile gledališke. Šlo je za stališče. Prostori institucij so bili zaprti. če pa so bili odprti, so bili odprti le za določen način produkcije. Iznajti je bilo treba nov način produkcije, ki bi omogočil, da se naša silna energija in ideje vzpostavijo.

Takrat se je zgodil tudi velik ideološki premik v tedaj še Eksperimentalnem gledališču Glej. V 80. letih je Glej predsta-vljal nekakšno malo Malo Dramo, postajo režiserjem na poti v gledališke institucije, potem pa se je spremenil v neodvisen produkcijski center. Takrat se je kot nov igralec pojavil tudi Cankarjev dom, ki je začel intenzivneje producirati lasten pro-gram. Pojavil se je Plesni teater Ljubljana s svojim prostorom, prvim, namenjenim sodobnemu plesu.

Za našo generacijo je bilo nujno, da se odpravimo ustvar-jat nekam, kjer prostor še ni bil »omadeževan«. V prostor, ki ga sam odpiraš in vzpostavljaš. Moja generacija je imela na primer odpor do EG Glej, ker je bil »kontaminiran«. Imel je zgodovino, katere del nismo hoteli biti. Poleg tega je nekaj režiserjev razvijalo izrazito vizualno govorico, za katero Glejev prostor ni bil primeren.

Katere vrste pa je bila zaznamovanost starih hiš? Vsebinska? Estetska? Politična? Do česa ste imeli odpor? Je bil odpor tudi z druge strani, do vas, ki ste vstopali?Šlo je za temeljno razliko v razumevanju gledališča. Tako kot danes je tudi takrat v naših gledališčih prevladoval visoki modernizem. Tudi če gre danes za dekonstrukcijo teksta, gre še vedno predvsem za idejnost, ki je vpisana v besedilo. In za ves ustroj, ki temu sledi. Gledališki jezik, ki kljub vsem mož-nim dekonstrukcijam, rezom, postmodernizmu in pastišem vendarle ni nikoli problematiziral samega gledališča. Eno od osnovnih vprašanj naše generacije, ki seveda ni monolitna, je bilo redefiniranje gledališča skozi reflektiranje gledališča. Politično, estetsko, družbeno in tudi prostorsko. Za to pa v in-stitucijah ni bilo prostora in ga še vedno ni. Osnovni dispozitiv gledaliških institucij je religiozen. Gledalec pride, gleda, pred-stava je narejena zato, da se mu nekaj zgodi. Vse je na strani ustvarjalca. Gledalec je v bistvu bolj ali manj vernik na maši, ki

si ogleduje, občuduje, a pri vsem skupaj nima kaj početi. In se ničesar ne sprašuje: s tem namenom tudi gre v gledališče. Pri našem delu je šlo predvsem za razmišljanje o tem, kaj gledali-šče je in kaj je lahko. Šlo je za prehajanje meja in povezovanje z drugimi oblikami umetnosti. Za razumevanje gledališča kot umetnosti, kjer je govorica odprta, kamor vstopajo druge ume-tniške oblike. Šlo je za kopico vsebinskih in estetskih inovacij, pristopov, ki jih je vsak avtor razvijal po svoje.

Od tvoje generacije vas je nekaj ostalo na tem vsaj nominalno drugem, neodvisnem bregu, nekaj pa se vas je integriralo v institucije. Zakaj je prišlo do razlike? Je ločnica še vedno tako ostra, kot si jo pravkar opisal?Ločnica je posledica zgolj enega preprostega razloga. Tega, da po Dušanu Jovanoviću v Slovenskem mladinskem gledališču v začetku 80. let1 nismo imeli niti enega umetniškega vodje z vizijo, jasnim in drznim programom, ki bi problematiziral mesto gledališča. Programom, iz katerega bi izviralo vse do-gajanje v gledališču. V tem prostoru imamo že vseskozi velik problem umetniškega vodstva. Nobenega razloga ni, da so programi taki, kakršni so: mainstream, simuliranje meščan-stva, občasno koketiranje s trendi, malo smo politični, malo smo kritični itn. Vseskozi pa se ponavlja matrica gledališča kot prostora, kamor prideš in občuduješ to, kar se dogaja. Na tak ali drugačen način.

Nekaj poskusov preseganja te ločnice je vendarle bilo. Najprej, sredi devetdesetih, je svoja vrata nekoliko odprlo Slo-vensko mladinsko gledališče, ampak jih je takoj spet zaprlo. Oziroma je tam dobil službo režiser Matjaž Pograjc in s tem je bila stvar kakor rešena.

Sledili so poskusi pri Janezu Pipanu v ljubljanski Drami,2 eno sezono je odprl in na program uvrstil režije Dragana Živa-dinova, Barbare Novakovič in mene, ampak tudi v tem prime-ru smo bili režiserji povabljeni, da delamo pod pogoji, ki jih je postavila institucija. Še vedno ni šlo za odpiranje institucij; a že to, da so Živadinovu na strehi gledališča postavili scenogra-fijo, je bil za Dramo velikanski korak. Žal temu koraku ni sledil noben nov. Ko se je kaj takega zgodilo, se je takoj zatrlo. Znan je primer iz leta 1997: Kaligula v režiji Sebastijana Horvata v Mestnem gledališču ljubljanskem, kjer je vodstvo gledališča močno problematiziralo njegovo estetiko.

Danes je jasno, zakaj je tako. Pritisk na umetniška vod-stva je izrazito neoliberalen, edino merilo so številke in polne dvorane. Prevladal je eksternalistični pristop in ni kritične mase, ni drže, ki bi se temu uprla.

Drugi poskusi transformacije gledališč pa so se dogajali v smeri osebne estetike: primer Tomaža Pandurja v Drami SNG Maribor. Ta je gledališče transformiral iz osebnih razlo-gov. Danes so vsa ta gledališča brez identitete, bolj ali manj podobna drugo drugemu in konservativna v svojih program-skih izhodiščih.


In kako ti kot direktor zavoda Maska deluješ drugače? Kaj je razlika v programiranju, kot ga vidiš ti, in programiranju javnih institucij? Ves čas govoriva o umetnosti in vsebini, a se vse prepogosto izkaže, da gre za ekonomsko-politične odloči-tve, vzgibe in prakse. Razumem, kako je Maskina produkcija drugačna v umetniškem smislu. Kaj pa če gre samo za drug žanr, za katerim se skriva isti političnoekonomski model?Ena temeljnih razlik je, da je programiranje na Maski precej bolj kompleksno. Osnovno poslanstvo in sporočilo Maske je prehajanje oziroma generiranje polja, v katerem ni razlike med umetniško in teoretsko produkcijo. Naša umetniška pro-dukcija ima visoko raven samorefleksije, teorija pa ni akadem-ska, pač pa je v neposrednem stiku z umetnostjo, odprta za drugačne pristope. Program Maske je enakovredno zastopan s predstavami, revijo, knjigami in umetniškimi raziskavami ter izobraževanjem.

Se strinjaš s tezo, da je prišlo na neodvisni sceni, sploh v pri-meru nekaj večjih producentov, do gentrifikacije?Gentrifikacija je intenzivnejša v večjih mestih, v Sloveniji se o tem veliko govori in tudi spodbuja oživljanje mestnih četrti in zapuščenih industrijskih ali vojaških objektov. Problem pa je v tem, da je mentaliteta mestne populacije pri nas večinoma ruralna: radi bi živeli v središču mesta in poslušali žvrgolenje ptičev. Metaforično gledano je to tudi prevladujoča mentalite-ta v slovenski kulturni produkciji.

Koliko let si že direktor Maske?Petnajst let.

In nisi edini. Večina večjih NVO-producentov se je ustalila v ekipi, financiranju, konec koncev tudi izboru umetnikov.če bi imeli javne ustanove, ki bi bile odprte, v katerih bi priha-jalo do pretoka, če bi te razumele različnost, drugačne načine delovanja, bi bila situacija drugačna. Drugačna bi bila tudi, če bi obstajali drugačni načini financiranja in kriteriji evalvacij, če bi bili mogoči tudi drugačni ustvarjalni pogoji, ki so danes popolnoma standardizirani. V javnih gledaliških ustanovah je recimo povprečje 45 vaj, ne glede na to, kaj delaš, kako pri-stopaš k izbranemu materialu, temi, gledališču. Jasno je, da se v takih razmerah ne more zgoditi nič posebnega. Zgodi se lahko le reprodukcija, rutina. Rezultati so vedno bolj podobni drug drugemu. A tudi v nevladnem sektorju ni dosti drugače. Razlog za to so kulturne politike. In inercija, po kateri so se izoblikovale in vztrajajo. Slovenija v tem smislu ni posebna izjema.

Praviš torej, da je odgovor NVO na zaprtost javnih institucij – zapiranje NVO. Da je razlog, da se v nevladnih organizacijah izvaja podobna politika kot v velikih hišah, prav to, da se ta izvaja v velikih hišah. In da potem drugače ne morete konku-rirati?Ne, mislim, da ne. Pri NVO-jih gre za to, da če hočemo preži-veti in obstati, moramo vedno več producirati. Sistem sub-vencioniranja je namreč takšen, da smo NVO-ji drug drugemu

tekmeci, in merila so številčna. Pri javnih zavodih tega ni. Preprost primer: Festival Borštnikovo srečanje je nastal po dogovoru gledaliških javnih zavodov, potem pa je prerasel v najprestižnejši nacionalni festival. Na sodobnoplesnem področju so na podoben način ustanovili bienalno platformo Gibanica, ki pa praktično nima sredstev za kritje osnovnih organizacijskih stroškov.

Govorimo o obdobju dvajset let, v katerem ni prišlo do procesov, ki bi razbili dihotomijo med javnim in nevla-dnim sektorjem v kulturi. Žal se niso ustalili nekateri načini produkcije, ki so se preizkušali na prelomu tega stoletja. Na primer uvedba triletnega rezidenčnega programa v Cankar-jevem domu. Najprej je bila rezidenca ponujena koreografu Iztoku Kovaču, ker se tedaj niso sporazumeli, je rezidenco dobil Matjaž Farič. Očitno ni bilo pravega zadovoljstva – in ta rezidenčni program je bil ukinjen.

Drugače je bilo na primer v Belgiji, kjer so se v pribli-žno istem obdobju tri velike nacionalne institucije – Opera La Monnaie, Kraljevsko flamsko gledališče (oboje v Bruslju) in De Singel v Antwerpnu (institucija, sorodna Cankarjeve-mu domu) – odprle rezidenčnim umetnikom, avtorjem Janu Fabru, Wimu Vandekeybusu in skupini Rosas. Na ta način so umetnikom omogočile dostop do širšega kroga občinstva, ki ga te institucije generirajo, ter zagotovile boljše delovne pogo-je, istočasno pa so svojim obiskovalcem omogočile dostop do novih vsebin, ki jih te institucije same niso producirale. V tem so vztrajali in rezultati so fascinantni in jih poznamo. Pri nas se to ni zgodilo.

Zametki tega so, kot rečeno, v istem obdobju obstajali v ljubljanski Drami, tudi Slovensko mladinsko gledališče je vzpostavilo program Odprto Mladinsko, a zelo kmalu je vse skupaj popolnoma poniknilo. Kmalu potem pride do velike spremembe v načinu financiranja NVO, ki jo omogoči novi Za-kon o uresničevanju javnega interesa za kulturo (ZUJIK), in si-cer se prvič pojavijo razpisi za večletno obdobje. Po eni strani je to strašanski premik, ki je ojačal vlogo NVO kot producen-tov. Omogočil nam je dolgoročno, večletno načrtno delovanje, večjo mednarodno konkurenčnost, prijave na mednarodne razpise, za katere je treba imeti zagotovljena sredstva. Tu pa se je vzpostavil tudi »filter«, ki je pripeljal do tega, o čemer me sprašuješ.

Pojavilo se je nekaj močnih producentov, večinoma vezanih na upravljanje javnih prostorov ali festivalov. In zgodila sta se dva procesa. Prvi je ta, da smo izbrane nevladne organizacije, tako kot velika večina institucij, dobile možnost kontinuiranega delovanja; to pa je vodilo do drugega procesa, in sicer da smo se producenti pričeli ukvarjati s samimi seboj, s preživetjem. Imamo stalne sodelavce, za katere je potrebno zagotoviti sredstva. In to nas je vse do zadnjega začelo po ma-lem spreminjati v institucije, dokaj podobne javnim zavodom. Še vedno pa je med slednjimi in NVO velikanska razlika v dinamiki, agilnosti, ogromna razlika v stabilnosti. Ni jih mo-goče primerjati, čeprav bi bilo dobro, če bi jih lahko.

Zato je nujen takojšnji poseg v kulturno politiko za zagotavljanje stabilnosti umetniške produkcije. če je ome-

njeni zakon utrdil pozicijo producentov, je zdaj potrebno narediti enako za umetniško produkcijo. Umetnik, ki svoje delo opravlja dobro, naj ima možnost za svoje delo. Naj vidi perspektivo. V tem trenutku perspektive ni. Kot umetnik imaš dve možnosti: čakaš na trgu, da te kdo povabi in se ponujaš ali pa ustanoviš svoje »podjetje« in sčasoma postaneš kultur-ni birokrat. Tako kot je to postal dobršen del umetnikov, ki smo zrasli iz generacije devetdesetih. Mi vsi smo najprej in predvsem kulturni birokrati, priučeni menedžerji, ker smo se pojavili v trenutku, ko nismo imeli druge izbire, imeli pa smo ideje in potrebo po izražanju. Ustanovili smo organizacije, v katerih smo si lahko ustvarili bolj ali manj optimalne pogoje za delo v danih razmerah.

Veliko vprašanje in aktualen izziv je, kako bi bila videti neodvisna produkcija, če bi imeli producente in hišo s pro-gramskim proračunom. V Sloveniji skorajda ne poznamo hiše brez ansambla in s programskim budžetom. Delno ga ima Cankarjev dom, ampak Cankarjev dom predvsem gosti, ne producira.

Še zadnjič – vem, da provociram – govoriš o idealih odprtosti, možnosti rezidenčnih umetnikov itn., in jih dosledno pred-pisuješ institucijam. Razumem, zakaj bi bila taka poteza neke javne institucije odmevnejša in bolj precedenčna, kot če bi jo naredila NVO, po drugi strani pa se mi zdi enako neverjetno, da bi recimo konkretno zavod Maska prepustil dve sezoni dru-gim umetnikom in bi se obnašal samo kot servis – to, kar oba želiva, da bi vsaj nekatere od javnih institucij počele. Govoriš o primerih dobrih praks v tujini. Hkrati pa imaš vsaj teoretično možnost sam te prakse uvajati v ta prostor.Jaz mislim, da jih uvajam. In mislim, da to počnejo tudi druge nevladne organizacije. Nimam iluzij o tem, kako delujemo, istočasno pa nočem moralizirati in govoriti, kaj bi lahko kdo naredil, pa ne. Svoje delovanje bi lahko odprli tisti, ki imajo dolgoročno zagotovljeno stabilno financiranje, in to so javne

institucije. Nevladne organizacije smo v najboljšem primeru vsake 3 oziroma 4 leta podvržene »reelekciji« s strani Ministr-stva za kulturo in mestnih občin. V proračunu javnih zavodov je delež prihodkov, ki jih morajo zagotoviti z delovanjem na trgu, majhen. Ta delež ne ogroža njihovega programskega delo-vanja, velika večina ljudi v javnih zavodih prejema redno plačo.

Vzemiva predstavo jutrišnji žuri skupine Forced Enterta-inment. če imamo na rednih plačah 20-članski ansambel, v tej predstavi pa nastopata dva igralca, bi lahko gledališče vsak dan odigralo deset takih predstav. In stroški zanje bi bili nični. Gledališča imajo zagotovljene infrastrukturne stroške in celo-tno ekipo, ki servisira projekte med nastankom in izvajanjem. Programski denar imajo samo za to, da angažirajo dodatne, zunanje sodelavce; NVO pa s programskimi sredstvi plačajo vse: od elektrike in računovodstva naprej. Tu je treba narediti jasno ločnico.

Se ti zdi, da je šlo pri vstopu v nevladne strukture konec osemdesetih in na začetku devetdesetih za radikalen rez ali za nekaj počasnega in sočasnega? In še: ali je, ko ste osvobajali prostore, šlo tudi za politične in ne samo estetske ideale? So ti ideali še vedno bistveni in pomembni ali bi morala zdaj nevla-dna kulturna praksa težiti k čemu drugemu?Izhajajva iz današnje situacije. Naš način dela je zelo podoben industrijskemu. Imaš čas, v katerem pripraviš izdelek, ga daš na tržišče in tam se znajde bodisi dobro, odlično, sploh ne itn. Ta produkcijska logika se od nas zahteva in tudi mi kot ustvar-jalci sebe realiziramo skoznjo. Hočemo vidnost, pogostost po-javljanja, teritorialno prisotnost itn. To so merila. Drugačna, na prvi pogled morda tradicionalna merila, so potisnjena v drugi plan.

Preprosto vprašanje: kaj ima družba od umetnosti? Na primer: ko organiziramo festival, pridejo nanj gostje, hoteli ra-čunajo nočnine in restavracije kosila, dobički so, a sami družbi ostane bistveno manj, kot ji lahko prinese velika umetniška

Janez Janša 51 bRUTALNA RUTINA


gesta, ki tako zamaje javnost, da si ta nekaj časa ne opomore od nje. Taka gesta v javnost vnese nekaj, kar postane referenca, nekaj neizogibnega. To je največ, kar lahko prinese umetnost.

Ekonomski pritisk, ki ga živimo danes, je samo drugo ime za cenzuro, za eliminacijo. Vsi vemo, da spektakel prinaša tudi »eksternalije«. če pride na predstavo 500 gledalcev, se jih bo polovica tja pripeljala z avtomobilom, plačali bodo bencin in cestnino in kupili oranžado. Ta logika števil je ubijalska.

Brutalna kapitalistična logika vedno proizvaja tudi več delovne sile, kot je dejansko potrebuje, ker ji s tem zbija ceno. Na naših področjih proizvedemo bistveno več umetniških poklicev, kot je zanje prostora. S tem jim zbijamo vrednost. Za ta vidik, ki se v Sloveniji kaže v hiperprodukciji in drobljenju sredstev, je najbolj zaslužno Ministrstvo za kulturo v času, ko ga je vodil Jožef Školč. Ker je bilo takrat, pred petnajstimi leti, na sceni manj producentov, manj svobodnih umetnikov, in ker je to za razvoj področja delovalo tudi psihološko spodbudno, je uvedel princip enostavnega razdeljevanja sredstev: vsakomur malo. S tem je kupoval socialni mir, a to kupovanje socialnega miru danes postaja tempirana bomba, ki lahko eksplodira navzven in privede do spremembe v sistemu, lahko pa eksplo-dira navznoter. Kar pomeni, da določeno število ljudi ne bo moglo preživeti in se bodo preusmerili v druge poklice. Tudi v primeru dobrih in kvalitetnih umetnikov.

Odprl si dve podvprašanji. So prostori, ki jih je odprla vaša generacija, ekonomsko in medijsko postali geto?Gornji belgijski primer sem v javnosti že večkrat omenjal. Ko so bili denimo Dragan Živadinov, Iztok Kovač in skupina Betontanc na višku ustvarjalnih moči, v devetdesetih letih, ločnica ni bila tako ostra. Ne vem, zakaj danes SNG Opere za štiri leta ne prepustimo umetniškemu vodstvu Dragana Živa-dinova? človek velikih formatov je in zna jih delati. Zakaj SNG Baleta ne zaupamo Iztoku Kovaču? Zakaj Betontanca ne ume-stimo v Slovensko mladinsko gledališče kot rezidenčno sku-pino, nenazadnje je tam zaposlen celo njihov režiser Matjaž Pograjc, s čimer bil imeli na voljo ves aparat gledališča? Zakaj ne pride do tega? Sprostil bi se prostor, ki ga v nevladnem sek-torju zasedajo Kovačev En-Knap, Pograjčev Betontanc, Živadi-novov zavod Delak, in na ta način bi lahko na ta mesta prišel kdo drug, mlajši, drugačen ... Prišlo bi do dinamizma, ki ga ni moč doseči samo znotraj nevladnega sektorja, ker je preprosto prereven. Prešibak. Teh sredstev preprosto ni.

Ravno zaradi tega, ker je sistem tak, kakršen je, potre-bujemo umetniško vodstvo in sistem javnih institucij, ki bi odstranil blokade med različnimi statusnimi načini produk-cije. Tu ni ovir. Osebno imam, tako kot moji kolegi, izkušnje s koprodukcijami z javnimi zavodi in te niso slabe, prej naspro-tno. Problem je, da v javnih zavodih ne vedo, kaj bi z idejo, s katero prideš do njih. Ne zanima jih. Imajo morje notranjih problemov, tudi tam se krči prostor za vsebinska in umetni-ška vprašanja.

če srečaš mladega ustvarjalca, ki debitira z odlično prvo predstavo, kaj je njegov naslednji korak? Ga bo »pohopsala« katera od večjih NVO in mu ponudila boljše pogoje? To vsi

počnemo, vsi NVO producenti gledamo, spremljamo, ponuja-mo priložnosti mladim, produciramo, tu ni izjeme, razen moč-no profiliranih producentov.

Vseeno smo zaradi vsega naštetega priča dejstvu izgubljenih generacij. Ustvarjalci, ki prihajajo, nimajo kam.Rešitev za to sta večja programska profiliranost ter fleksibil-nost kulturne politike, ki bi podpirala nove in drugačne oblike produkcije. Tudi takšne, ki jih še ne poznamo. Zakaj bi nove generacije morale delati na enak način kot dosedanje? Zakaj mora biti hierarhija javni zavodi – NVO – samozaposleni v kulturi tako samoumevna? Ko sta vidva s Simono Semenič leta 2007 prevzela skorajda potopljeno Gledališče Glej, sta vpeljala celo vrsto novih pristopov v produkciji in odprla vrata najmlajši generaciji. Je to tako težko predstavljivo v kakšnem javnem zavodu?

Ko zastavimo radikalno pozicijo proti institucijam …Ni radikalna.

… radikalna je v tem prostoru. Ko se gledališkim inštitucijam zoperstavimo, se uprejo z vsemi močmi, ker se jim zdi, da gre za vse ali nič. Pa ni tako. Ohranimo lahko, recimo, tri močne institucije z orjaškimi ansambli in šiviljskimi delavnicami. Ampak od neke številke naprej – so odveč, perpetuacija istega. Nekaj inštitucij bi se dalo zastaviti drugače.Ne strinjam se. Izhajaš iz predpostavke, da vemo, kako se dela nacionalni teater, kako se dela nacionalna opera itn. Ne ve se. Delajo ga vedno konkretni ljudje, umetniki, ki imajo potrebo po izražanju, komuniciranju. Naj bo to državna institucija s 360 zaposlenimi ali neki smrdljivi podzemni prostor. Ni razlike. In ko bo to postalo kriterij, bodo drugače videti Opera, Drama in tudi nevladne organizacije.

Kako pa zastaviti model? Kaj to pomeni za umetniško vodstvo, za mandate? Kakšne so bistvene strukturne spremembe, da lahko vzpostavimo tak model organizacije? Ali so vsa orodja že na voljo in gre samo za – voljo?Orodja so večinoma na voljo. Ekonomska situacija je za javne ustanove relativno ugodna. Ljudje bi morali delati to, kar iskreno želijo. In ne, da »delajo službe«. Avstrijski lacanovec Robert Pfaller je pred kratkim izjavil, da bi bilo treba plačati umetnike medtem, ko ne delajo, da pa za svoje delo ne bi dobi-vali plačila. Tako bi delali samo takrat, ko bi delali iz nuje.

Veliko razmišljam, kako ustvariti okolje, v katerem bi se človek vsebinsko polnil. Maska mi je dolgo predstavljala prav to, in še vedno je deloma tako. Ker pa gre čedalje več časa za organizacijo, se krajša čas, namenjen temu, kar ustvarimo. In to je največji problem. Odpirajo se novi načini sodelovanja, ki se dogajajo mimo javnega financiranja. Ti modeli imajo veliko prihodnost, ker se bo sistem javnih financ v kratkem obrnil v čisti barbarizem in dokument tega barbarizma bo nova kultura, umetnost, ki je še ne poznamo, umetnost, do katere se bomo šele dokopali.

1 The Ljubljana Dance Theatre (PTL) was founded in 1984. Throughout the 1980s, PTL played a pioneering role in the development and promotion of contemporary dance in Slovenia.

The theme of our discussion is the state of culture and cul-tural politics and their roots. All too often we try to solve the situation here and now, while it would be prudent to find out how things got here. I believe there are three key turning points: the independence, the professionalization of NGOs in the late 90s and the bursting of the bubble and the crisis, let’s say from 2006 onward. But let’s start with you. your path through these three points?When in the late 80s and early 90s the generation I too belong to began to coalesce, we had a very strong and clear stance: to work outside existing institutions, theatrical and cultural. Physically. Our moment of emancipation was con-nectedtoother,differentspaces.Myfirstpiecetookplaceinthe B-51 bunker, other artists worked in non-theatrical loca-tions, too. This was a stance. The spaces of the institutions were closed. And if they were open, they were open only to a particular mode of production. We had to invent new modes of production that would enable our great energies and ideas to manifest.

It is then that a great ideological change happens in Glej Experimental Theatre. From the 80s, when it was a sort of a side stage for the national theatre, a station on the way to the public theatre institutions, Glej turned into an independent production house. Then, Cankarjev Dom appeared as a new player, beginning to produce its own program more intensive-ly. The Ljubljana Dance Theatre appeared,1 with its own space, the first dedicated to contemporary dance.

For us, it was necessary to go create somewhere where the space was not yet “soiled”. A space one opens up and es-tablishes oneself. For example, my generation had an aversion toward Glej, because it was “contaminated”. It had a history, a part of which we did not wish to become. Besides that, some directors were developing a particularly visual narrative, for which the space of Glej was not appropriate.

In what way were the old houses demarcated? Content-wise? Aesthetically? Politically? What were you averse to? Were the houses averse to your coming generation as well? Itwasamatterofcrucialdifferencesinunderstandingthea-tre. Just as today, our theatres then mostly produced peak modernism. Even if the text was deconstructed, we were still talking about ideality, written into text. And the whole machine that follows that. A theatric language that despite all sorts of deconstructions, cuts, postmodernism and pastiches never questioned theatre itself. One of the basic goals of our generation, which is of course not a monolith, was redefining theatre by reflecting theatre. Politically, aesthetically, socially and in the sense of space. And there was no space for this in the institutions. There still isn’t. The core disposition of theatre institutions is a religious one. The spectator comes, watches, the show is made so that something happens to him or her. The spectator is basically a believer at a mass, he watches, appreciates, but in truth there is nothing for him to

Janez JanšaA bRUTAL ROUTINE


Janez Janša 53 A bRUTAL ROUTINE


2 Dušan Jovanović, a Slovenian director and playwright. Between 1978 and 1984, he was the artistic director of Slovensko Mladinsko Theatre (SMG). (Ed. Note)

3 Janez Pipan, a Slovenian director, was the manager of SNG Drama Ljubljana between 1994 and 2008. (Ed. Note)

do. He doesn’t ask himself any questions: this is why he goes to the theatre in the first place.

Mainly, we were thinking about what theatre is and what it can be. It was all about transgressing borders and connect-ing with other art forms. About understanding theatre as art with an open lingo, where other artistic forms may enter. About a whole range of innovations in content and aesthetic approaches that each author developed in their own way.

From your generation, some of you stayed on this, at least nominally other, independent bank, while some integrated intoinstitutions.Whythedifference?Istheborderlinestillassharp as you just described?The borderline is the consequence of one single simple reason. The fact that, after Dušan Jovanović,2 we haven’t had a single artistic director with a vision, a clear and daring program, which would problematize the position of theatre. A program, from which all other goings on in the theatre would derive. In this space, we have a great problem of artistic leader-ship. There is no reason for the repertoires to be like they are: mainstream, a simulated bourgeoisie, occasional nods to trends, a little political, a little critical, etc. And through all, a matrix repeats, one of theatre as a space to come and appreci-ate what goes on. In one way or another.

There have been attempts to cross this borderline. First, in the 90s, SMG opened its doors somewhat, but closed them soon after. Or rather, gave a job to Matjaž Pograjc, thereby resolving the issue.

There were further attempts by Janez Pipan in Drama,3 he opened up a season and programmed pieces by Dragan Živadinov, Barbara Novakovič and myself, but in this case, too, we directors were invited to work under the institution’s conditions. This still wasn’t an opening of the institution, but even the simple fact that they built a set for Živadinov on the roof was a great big leap for Drama. Unfortunately, no further leaps followed. When something like that happened, it was quickly suppressed. A well-known case is Sebastijan Horvat’s Caligula from 1997, when the theatre management seriously questioned his aesthetic.

Today, the reasons are well known. The pressures on ar-tistic directors are of a particularly neoliberal nature, the only measures being numbers and full auditoriums. An external-ist approach has prevailed. And there is no critical mass, no stance to resist this.

Other transformation attempts happened in a direction of personal aesthetics: the case of Tomaž Pandur in Drama SNG Maribor. He transformed the theatre due to personal rea-sons. Today, all these theatres have no identity; they are more or less the same and conservative in their programming.

Andhowdoyou,asdirectorofMaska,workdifferently?Whatisthedifferenceinprogrammingasyouseeitandasitisdoneby the houses? We keep talking about art and content, but all too often it appears that everything comes down to economic and political decisions, reasons and practices. I understand

thatMaska’sproductionisdifferentinanartisticsense.Butwhatifit’sjustadifferentgenrewiththesamepolitical-eco-nomic model in the background? OneofthefundamentaldifferencesisthatMaska’sprogram-ming is much more complex. The key mission and message of Maska is the transgression or rather generation of a field, wherethereisnoorlittledifferencebetweenartisticandtheoretic production. Our artistic production has a high level of self-reflection, while the theory is not academic but rather directlyconnectedtoart,opentodifferentapproaches.The program of Maska institute is equally represented by performances, the journal, books and artistic research and education.

Do you agree with the idea that in the independent scene, es-pecially in the case of some of the bigger producers, a gentrifi-cation has taken place? Gentrification is much more pronounced in bigger cities; in Slovenia, there is much talk about this and some work done to reinvigorate city quarters and deserted industrial or military facilities. The problem is in that the mentality of the city populace is rural: they all want to live in the city center and only hear the chirping of birds. Metaphorically speaking, this is the predominant mentality in cultural production.

How long have you been director of Maska?Fifteen years.

Fifteen years. And you’re not the only one. Most of the bigger producers among NGOs have stabilized in terms of teams, financing, even in the selection of artists. If we had public institutions that were open and through which people would flow, if they understood otherness, dif-ferentmodesofworking,thesituationwouldbedifferent.Itwouldalsobedifferentifthemodesoffinancingandthecrite-riaofevaluationweredifferent,iftheconditionswerediffer-ent from what they are today – completely standardized. In public institutions, for example, the average is 45 rehearsals regardless of what you are doing, how you approach the cho-sen material or theme, how you approach theatre. It’s obvious that in these circumstances nothing special can happen. Only reproduction can happen, only routine. The results are more andmorealike.Andit’snotthatmuchdifferentinthenon-governmental sector. The reasons for this are cultural politics. And the inertia by which they were developed and by which they are sustained. In this sense, Slovenia is no exception.

So you’re saying that the NGOs’ answer to the closed nature of the governmental institutions – is the closing of NGOs. That the reason for non-governmental organizations’ policies be-ing similar to the big houses is that they are carried out in the big houses. That otherwise you couldn’t compete?No, I don’t think so. With NGOs, it is a case of having to produce more and more to survive, because the subvention system is structured in a way that makes us competitors, with

the criteria being numerical. Public institutions don’t experi-ence this. A simple example: the Maribor theatre festival was founded as an agreement between theatres and is now the most prestigious national theatre festival. The contemporary dance field similarly founded the biannual dance platform Gibanica, which has almost no funds to cover basic expenses.

But we’re talking about a period of 20 years here, in which the processes to break the dichotomy between the public and the private did not take place. At the turn of the millennium, the modes of production that were being tested did not stabilize. The residence program, for example, the artist-in-residenceinCankarjevDom.Thiswasfirstofferedtochoreographer Iztok Kovač, and when they didn't see eye to eye, to Matjaž Farič. Apparently there was no satisfaction, no spark – and the residence program was dismantled.

ThiswasdifferentinBelgium,whereatapproximatelythe same time three large national institutions – the Opera La Monnaie, The Royal Flemish theatre (both in Brussels) and De Singel in Antwerp (an institution similar to Cankarjev Dom) – opened up to residential artists, artist Jan Fabre, Wim Vandekeybus and the Rosas group. In this way, they enabled the artists to reach the wider audiences these institutions generate and provided them with better working conditions; and at the same time provided their audiences with access to new content that these institutions were unable to produce themselves. They stuck to it and the results are fascinating and well known. This did not happen here.

There were some similar attempts locally at the same time in SNG Ljubljana Drama, and SMG started the program Open Mladinsko, but everything petered out quickly. Soon thereafter, a big change takes place in the NGOs’ financing mechanism, enabled by the new umbrella law for culture: there are calls for multi-year funding. On one side, this was a tectonic move, strengthening the role of NGOs as producers. It enabled us to plan in the long term, made us more competi-tive internationally, and enabled us to apply for grants that require local financial participation. But it also brought about the “filter” that led to what you are talking about.

A few stronger producers appeared, mostly bound to the management of venues or festivals. And two processes took place. The first is that the chosen NGOs, just like the majority of the institutions, were suddenly able to work continuously; and this led to the other process: that we producers began to focus on ourselves, on survival. As we have permanent col-laborators, for whom resources must be acquired. And this slowly began to turn all of us into institutions quite similar to thepublicones.Butthereisstillalargedifferencebetweenthe latter and the NGOs in dynamics, agility, and a great dif-ference in stability. We can’t compare the two, even though it would be good if we could.

This is why an immediate intervention into the cultural policies is necessary to ensure the stability of artistic produc-tion. If the aforementioned law stabilized the position of the producers, this same thing must now be done for artistic production. An artist who does good work should have the

possibility to work. Should see a perspective. In this moment, there is no perspective. As an artist, you have two options: towaitonthemarkettobeinvitedtocollaborateandofferyour services, or to found your own “business” and slowly turn into a cultural bureaucrat. Which is what a large part of us, the 90s generation, have become. We are all first and foremost cultural bureaucrats, self-taught managers, because we appeared in a moment when we had no other choice but did have ideas and a need to express ourselves. We founded the organizations in which we could create the best possible circumstances for our work.

A big question and the order of the day is what would independent production look like if we had producers and venues with a program budget. In Slovenia, there is currently no single venue without an ensemble and with a program budget. Cankarjev Dom sort of has one, but they mostly host, not produce.

For the last time – and I know I’m being provocative – you speak of ideals of openness, of resident artists, etc., and con-sistently prescribe them to the public institutions. I under-stand why such a move by a public institution would be far-ther reaching and set more of a precedent than if it were made by an NGO; on the other hand, it seems just as improbable to me that, for instance, Maska were to entrust two seasons to differentartists,actingonlyasaservice–somethingwebothwish at least some public institutions would do. you speak of good example cases from abroad. And yet you have at least the theoretical ability to institute these cases here.I think I do that. Definitely. And I’m not just defending the institute I run, I believe other NGOs do this as well. I have no illusions about what’s happening to us, but, at the same time, I don’t wish to moralize and expound about what someone could or could not do. The ones who could open up are the ones who have long-term, guaranteed stable financing and these are public institutions. The NGOs are, in the best of cases, subject to “reelection” by the Ministry and municipali-ties every three or four years. The part of their income that the public institutions have to make on the market is relatively small.Thispartdoesnotaffecttheircoreundertakings;mostof their employees are salaried.

Let’s take Forced Entertainment’s tomorrow’s Parties, for example. If we had a 20-piece ensemble and this show has two actors, the theatre could perform 10 of these performances per day, with zero expenses. Theatres have fixed incomes for infrastructure and the human resources to service projects during conception and the performance run. They only need the extra program budget to pay the added on, outside col-laborators. While the NGOs pay everything with program funds: from electricity to accounting. A clear line must be drawn here.

Do you think that entering the non-governmental structures at the end of the 80s and early 90s was a radical cut or some-thing slow and synchronous? And, when liberating spaces,



was this about political as well as aesthetic ideals? Are these ideals still central and important or should non-governmental culturenowaspiretosomethingdifferent?Let’s start from the situation now. Our methods of production are very similar to the industrial ones. One has time, in which to prepare a product, put it on the market, and there it does well, brilliantly, not at all, etc. This is what the production logic demands, and as artists, we concede to it and manifest ourselves through it. We want visibility, frequency of appear-ance, territorial coverage, etc. These are the criteria. Other, seemingly perhaps more traditional criteria are pushed into the background.

A simple question: what does society get from art? For example: when organizing a festival, guests arrive, the hotels get to charge for lodging, the restaurants for lunches, there are profits; and yet society gets much less than it might from a grand artistic gesture that would shake it so it doesn’t recover for a while. Such a gesture introduces something that is a reference, something unavoidable to the public. That is the most art can ever do.

The economic pressure under which we live today is just another name for censure, for elimination. We all know that spectacle carries with it externalities. If 500 spectators come

to a show, half will drive there by car, they’ll pay for gas and tolls, buy some soda. This logic of numbers is a killer.

This brutal capitalist logic also produces more labor than it actually needs, thereby cutting its cost. In our fields, we produce a decidedly larger artistic cadre than there is space for, lowering its value. This aspect, shown locally in hyper production, is mainly the responsibility of the Minis-try for Culture when ran by Jožef Školč. Because, at the time, fifteen years ago, there were fewer producers and independ-ent artists on the scene, and because this was psychologically stimulating, he introduced a principle of simple funding distribution: to each a little. Thus he bought social peace, but this buying of cohesion is slowly becoming a time-bomb, which can explode inwardly, leading to a change in the sys-tem, or outwardly. And that means that a number of people will not be able to survive and will divert to other professions. Even in the case of quality artists.

you open the door for two sub-questions. Have the spaces your generation opened become an economic and media ghetto? I’ve mentioned the Belgian example often in public. When, for example, Dragan Živadinov, Iztok Kovač and the Betontanc

group were at the peak of their creative powers in the 90s, the division was not as sharp. I don’t know why we don’t leave the artistic direction of SNG Opera to Dragan Živadinov for four years? He is a man of large formats and knows how to make them. Why haven’t we entrusted SNG Ballet to Iztok Kovač? Why can’t we insert Betontanc into Slovensko Mladinsko The-atre as a resident group, their artistic director Matjaž Pograjc is employed there anyway, thereby providing them with the entire apparatus of the theatre. Why don’t these things hap-pen? The space that Kovač’s En-Knap, Pograjc’s Betontanc and Živadinov’s Delak occupy in the non-governmental sector wouldfreeuptobetakenbysomeoneelse,younger,different.A dynamism would occur that could not happen in just the non-governmental sector, as it is simply too poor. Too weak. The funds are simply not there.

Because the system is what it is, we need artistic direc-tion and a system of public institutions that would remove the blockadesbetweenthedifferentmodesofproduction.Andthere are no reasons for this not to happen. I, personally, as well as my colleagues, have good experiences with co-produc-tions with public institutions. The problem is that they don’t know what to do with the ideas with which you approach them. They’re not interested. They have myriads of internal problems there, too, and the space for questions of art and content is diminishing.

If you take a young author, debuting with his first performance, what are his next steps? Will he be snatched up byoneofthebiggerNGOsandofferedbetterworkingcondi-tions? We all do this, the NGOs, we watch, we follow, we give opportunities to the young, with no exception apart from some highly profiled producers.

And yet, despite all this, we are seeing lost generations. The up-and-coming creators have nowhere to go.The solution is in a greater profiling of institutions, a cultur-allypoliticalflexibility,whichwouldsupportnewanddiffer-ent modes of production. Even some we don’t of yet know. Why should new generations work in the same way as the old ones? Why should the hierarchy of public institution–NGO–the self-employed be self-evident? When, in 2007, you and Simona Semenič took over the sunken Glej, you introduced a number of new approaches to production in this theatre and opened it up to the youngest generations. Is this so hard to imagine in a public institution?

When we set this radical a stance toward institutions –It’s not radical.

It’s radical in this space. When we oppose the theatre institu-tions, they respond with all their power because it seems to them that it’s all or nothing. This isn’t so. It seems to me we can keep, let’s say, three strong ones with huge ensembles, tailor shops and all. But from a certain number onward, there are too many of these – a perpetuation of the same. Some institutionscouldbeconceiveddifferently.

I don’t agree. you presume that it’s clear how one makes national theatre, national opera. It isn’t clear. It’s always made by actual people, artists, with a need to express, to communi-cate. Whether it’s a national institution with 360 employees orasmellyundergroundspace.There’snodifference.Andwhen this becomes the criteria, Opera, Drama and NGOs will alllookdifferent.

So how to structure the model? What does this mean for artistic direction? What are the key structural changes needed in order that we may establish such a model? Or are the tools already there and it’s only a matter of will?Most of the tools are there. The economic situation is rela-tively good for public institutions. People should do what they sincerely want to. And not work jobs. Austrian scholar of Lacan Robert Pfaller recently said that artists should be paid when they aren’t working and not paid while they are. They would then only work when they really had to.

I often think about how to make a space in which one could fill oneself creatively. To me, for a long time this was Maska and in some aspects it still is. But because more and more time is dedicated to organization, the time to create grows shorter. And that’s the biggest problem. There are new ways of collaboration coming up, other thanpublic funding. These models have a future, because the system of public fi-nances will soon turn into pure barbarism and the document of this barbarism will be a new culture, art, which we don’t yet know, which we have yet to reach.




Iztok KovačKRhKA USODA

Iztok Kovač 59 KRHKA USOdA

1 Andrej Drapal, filozof, producent in danes poklicni lobist, je bil med letoma 1986 in 1990 vodja gledališkega in plesnega programa v Cankarjevem domu, med letoma 1991 in 1994 pa je vodil produkcijsko hišo Inart Center (op. ur.).

Danes je beg možganov zelo aktualna tema. Ti si v tujini že bil, pa si se vrnil. Zakaj?V osemdesetih letih sem zapustil tedanjo domovino Jugo-slavijo. Zunaj sem bil zaradi enoumja, ne brezumja. Zaradi širine, ki jo je tujina ponujala, saj tedaj v plesu še nisem imel izdelanih poti. Ven me je gnala lakota po spoznanju, želja po srečevanju z novimi izzivi. Takrat nisem bil možgani, bil sem mišica; in predvsem mišica je šla iskat boljše možnosti delovanja. V Belgijo. Takrat smo imeli srečo, da z rdečim potnim listom nismo potrebovali vizumov, lahko smo potovali kamorkoli. Le v prehodnem obdobju, v začetku devetdesetih let, je bilo z vizumi nekaj težav, saj nove države Slovenije še niso vsi priznali.

Ni mi bilo težko oditi. Težje se je bilo brez referenc afirmirati v novih okoljih. Vračal pa sem se večkrat. Mislim, da v glavnem napolnit baterije.

Kakšna je bila takrat v Sloveniji perspektiva sodobnega plesalca?Sredi 80. let so prvi kolegi že začeli pridobivati statuse samo-stojnih kulturnih delavcev, kot smo status samozaposlenih imenovali takrat. Večina jih je bila tedaj povezana s Ksenijo Hribar, z delovanjem Plesnega teatra Ljubljana, polprofesio-nalno. Ampak v resnici poklic sodobnega plesalca ni obstajal. Perspektive v smislu neke družbene stabilnosti ni bilo, bilo pa je ogromno entuziazma.

S čim si se vrnil, kaj si ob vrnitvi prinesel s seboj?Leta 1993 sem v Belgiji ustanovil plesno skupino En-Knap in jo 1994 pripeljal nazaj v Ljubljano ter ustanovil produkcijski zavod EN-KNAP. Vrnil sem se v razmere, v katerih so se začele ljudem odpirati nove možnosti. Vzpostavila se je svoboda, tudi produkcijsko. Ustanavljali so se zasebni zavodi. Ker ni bilo institucije, ki bi predstavljala, ščitila ali zaobjela naš ceh, smo bili v ustanovitev zasebnih zavodov prisiljeni. Edino resno prizorišče za sodobni ples je bil takrat Cankarjev dom.

Konec 80., na začetku 90. let je bila sodobna scenska umetnost močna in evropski programerji so tega konja tedaj resno zajahali. Recimo: meni leta 1994 s prvo predstavo ni bilo težko dvakrat napolniti Linhartove dvorane, in to brez resne reklame. Ker je bilo toliko manj dogodkov: ljudje so bili lačni informacij, sploh tistih, ki so prihajale od zunaj.

In ker sem živel na tujem, sem razmišljal drugače, do-mov sem nehote prinesel druga merila, druge kriterije, druge zahteve do sodelavcev. Umetniške in produkcijske. In ti kri-teriji so ljudi vznemirjali, včasih tudi motili. Vendar sem pri tem vztrajal, zahteval veliko od sebe in drugih. Tudi od plesne scene sem takrat pričakoval resen in izostren pristop, korake naprej v kvaliteti produkcij, kritiško misel, povezovanja ... Takrat smo ustanovili Društvo za sodobni ples, predvsem zato,

da bi skupaj nastopali glede nujne izboljšave pogojev delova-nja, pomembnih za vse akterje.

Kakšne so bile takrat delovne in produkcijske razmere za ples, glede financiranja in stabilnosti?Težko presojam, predvsem je bilo produkcije v primerjavi z danes smešno malo. Sam sem se takrat ukvarjal predvsem z iskanjem svoje umetniške identitete, ne s produciranjem svojih del. Imel sem neko alergijo do enoumja, kontrole, totalitarnega sistema. Alergijo na celotno birokracijo javne uprave, občinske zadeve, tudi na Kulturno skupnost, kot smo takrat rekli Ministrstvu za kulturo ... Od slednjih nisem želel prejemati sredstev, zato se do leta 1995 sploh nisem prijavljal na razpise.

Vas je torej financiral Cankarjev dom? Kako točno je Zavod EN-KNAP dobil sredstva za prvo predstavo?To so takrat v celoti financirali producenti iz Belgije. Festival Klapstuk. V Cankarjevem domu je bil takrat za uprizoritveno umetnost zadolžen Andrej Drapal,1 ki se je v zgodbo vpisal kot koproducent.

S prostorom in tehniko?Ne vem, takrat se s produkcijo nisem ukvarjal. Morda so v Cankarjevem domu predstavo vnaprej odkupili ali pa kaj pri-spevali. Sodelovanje z Belgijci je bila resna produkcija: v celoti sem se lahko posvetil le izvedbi načrtovane predstave in povabljenim sodelavcem.

Kdaj pa si potem moral postati kulturni birokrat?A tako se temu reče? Leta 1994 sem ustanovil svoj zavod, takrat so začele nastajati predstave v samoprodukciji, podprte z močno tujo in domačo (v glavnem Cankarjev dom) kopro-dukcijsko mrežo.

S slovenskimi sredstvi ali s tujimi? Na neki točki si svojo »alergijo« moral premagati.Mislim, da se je pisalo leto 1995, ko smo se prvič prijavljali na razpis Ministrstva za kulturo, kdo je bil takrat minister, se ne spomnim. Tudi točnih razmerij v proračunu predstave se ne spominjam. Poleg naših pridobljenih sredstev je bil potem še skoraj 10 let naš glavni partner Cankarjev dom; tudi mednaro-dna koprodukcija je bila močna, mislim, da so koproducenti iz tujine prispevali veliko večino sredstev.

Vstopiš torej v slovensko kulturno prizorišče. Ima slovenska kulturna politika svojo vizijo? Kakšna je?Kaj je slovenska kulturna politika? Odvisno od tega, o ka-terem obdobju govoriva, energija je vsakokrat drugačna. V času našega delovanja se je na vrhu institucij, ki odločajo o kulturni politiki in delitvi javnih sredstev v kulturi, zamenjala


2 Iztok Kovač in Zavod EN-KNAP sta na javnem razpisu Mestne občine Ljubljana 2009 dobila v upravljanje na novo definirano javno infrastrukturo Center kulture Španski borci v

Ljubljani za obdobje treh let, ki je bilo kasneje podaljšano še do leta 2015.

vrsta politikov. Eni so bili za pomen kulture bolj, drugi manj dovzetni, enim je uspelo svoja znanja in načrte bolj, drugim manj artikulirati in udejanjiti. Vemo, da je brez politične volje kulturna politika zgolj črka na papirju. Stvari se zgodijo, ko se politika odloči, da se nekaj premakne. Težko bi rekel, da je ka-teri minister ali ministrica pri nas dosegel »kulturni razcvet«, vemo pa, kje v tujini iskati uspešne primere.

V različnih obdobjih je bila politična volja zelo različna. Konec 90. let so bile tendence kulturne politike v odnosu do sodobnega plesa pravilne. Žanr se je širil, razmahnil. Po drugi strani pa je bilo to premalo. Ni bilo nujnega, drugega koraka, ki bi žanr sodobnega plesa lansiral v družbeno okolje. Razmah-nili in razpršili so produkcijo, ta pa je na tem obstala. Sodobni ples, kot umetniški žanr, je zato danes nezaščiten. Vsaka poli-tična opcija, ki nima posluha, ga z lahkoto popolnoma margi-nalizira ali celo ukine. Na to nevarnost opozarjam že leta.

Društvo za sodobni ples že od začetkov opozarja na nujnost institucionalizacije za varnost žanra, ampak v 20 letih se to ni zgodilo. Zakaj?Zakaj se institucija še ni zgodila, ne vem. če nas Ksenija Hribar ne bi prezgodaj zapustila, bi bilo mogoče lažje. V njej je takratna generacija imela eminenco, ki smo ji vsi zaupali, vanjo verjeli. Ksenija je premogla lepo, povezovalno energijo, v pogovoru z njo si se počutil dragocen. Imela je širino, razu-mevanje, vpeta je bila v tedanje strukture, o katerih »mulci« nismo imeli pojma. Po njeni smrti ni bilo več avtoritete, ener-gije, ki bi nas vse povezovala.

Manjka javna institucija, ki bi na prvem mestu morala zapolniti nekatere vrzeli pri doseganju jasne družbene pozi-cije sodobnega plesa: od izobraževanja na vseh stopnjah do ureditve pravnega in socialnega položaja plesalca sodobnega plesa, zaposlitev, stalnega odra, vrhunske produkcije in kon-tinuiranih mednarodnih izmenjav, izrazite medijske izposta-vljenosti ter ureditve področja teorije, kritike in arhiviranja. Zgolj obstoječa institucija za izobraževanje na srednješolski stopnji ali cehovsko društvo ne zadostujeta. Zato je usoda žanra danes zelo krhka.

Gledališčniki imajo za institucionalnega sogovornika resne, velike institucije, ki zaposlujejo, takoj za RTV, največ ljudi na področju kulture. Sta za področje plesa to baletni hiši? Italija svoje opere in balete vodi pod ministrstvom za turizem, kot neko živo muzejsko formo. Sta ljubljanski in mariborski Balet tvoja sogovornika?Pravilno ugotavljaš, da sta to edini instituciji za ples v Slove-niji z močnima ansambloma in s tem seveda tudi odgovorna nosilca neke plesne kulture. Najprej moram priznati, da sem za baletno umetnost resnični laik, čeravno sem ga kar nekaj let intenzivno vadil. Kljub temu sem od SNG Maribor leta 2006 dobil naročilo za predstavo z njihovim baletnim ansam-blom. Pripravili smo koprodukcijski projekt med SNG Mari-bor, Cankarjevim domom in Zavodom EN-KNAP. Predstava je bila kvalitetna, projekt je bil dober zgled koprodukcije med javnima zavodoma in nevladno organizacijo.

Iz SNG Opera in balet Ljubljana pa do danes žal ni prišlo nobeno povabilo, še do stikov ne. Tudi situacija je sedaj, odkar umetniško vodim sicer majhen ansambel z matičnim odrom v Centru kulture Španski borci, seveda drugačna, kot leta 2006.2 Sedaj lahko namreč tudi sami, z izbranimi partnerji, pripravimo večje produkcije.

Konec 90. let, na prelomu stoletja se je dogajalo veliko posku-sov, da bi se institucije pomlajevale in presegale estetske, vse-binske okvirje. Se motim, ko trdim, da je ta meja spet čedalje ostrejša?Ne vem, tradicija mora obstajati. Prav je, da imamo v državi klasično gledališče, opero, balet. To je pomembno. Vendar vsakdo včasih potrebuje osvežitev. Pariška opera je na primer pred nekaj časa poskusila s sodobnejšimi pristopi in to se je izkazalo za zelo dobro potezo. Ne govorim le o pomlajevanju ansamblov, temveč tudi o vabilu velikim avtorskim imenom, avtorskim poetikam, ki so potujile tradicionalna pričakovanja, pa jih je občinstvo sprejelo. Gradnja občinstva z leti, skozi ge-neracije je izjemno pomembna. Ko sem pred leti koreografiral za plesni ansambel Oldenburškega narodnega gledališča, so ta 180 let star objekt ravno temeljito renovirali. Da ne bi izgubili abonentov, da ne bi prekinili tradicije, so najeli letališki han-gar na obrobju mesta in ga za leto in pol spremenili v izvrstno koncertno in odrsko prizorišče. To je bilo ogromno tveganje, finančni vložek, ki ga nista krila ne država ne mesto. Pridobili so privatna sredstva. Dve sezoni so ohranili živi, povečali so število obiskovalcev, dvignili svoj ugled in to se jim je kasneje bogato poplačalo.

O tem je treba razmišljati. O kontinuiteti delovanja, o tem, kako graditi in vzgajati publiko, kako graditi zaupanje, tudi za naslednje generacije. Gre za dejstva, za način razmi-šljanja, brez katerega čvrsta institucija ne more delovati.

Odločil si se za ansambelski model in za model upravljanja javne infrastrukture. Zakaj? Si se odločil prav? Začniva pri ansambelskem modelu.Leta 2005 sem prišel do spoznanja, da sem po dobrih desetih letih projektnega delovanja prišel do točke, ko v tem nisem več videl pravega smisla. In da ne bo pomote, v teh letih smo dosegli izjemne rezultate v smislu mednarodnih koprodukcij, števila gostovanj, nagrad ... Kljub temu sem se ustaljenega produkcijskega modela nasitil: da organiziramo mednarodne avdicije, da izberem najboljšo možno zasedbo, da zasedbi ponudim »slovenske«, torej relativno slabe pogoje, kakršne sem si lahko privoščil v primerjavi z zahodnimi kolegi. Da delamo v napornem tempu, slabih vadbenih razmerah, da od njih ogromno zahtevam, uprizorimo premiero ter da je potem predstava odvisna zgolj od gostovalne dinamike. če smo imeli srečo in je predstava uspela in so se zvezde postavile v pravo os, smo s predstavo gostovali na mnogih odrih po sve-tu; drugače je bilo vse zaman. Po vseh teh letih mi to ni več ustrezalo. Na začetku mi je bil princip gostovanj nekaj samo-umevnega, sčasoma me to ni več vznemirjalo. Smisel svojega početja sem začel iskati v kontinuiteti. če smo Slovenci lahko

vzpostavili repertoar, kontinuiteto v gledališču, v koncertnih dvoranah, operi in baletu, sem prepričan, da ga lahko tudi v sodobnem plesu.

In zato sem leta 2007 s sredstvi, ki sem jih imel na voljo po programskih razpisih ministrstva in občine že dotlej, spre-menil način delovanja v repertoarni, ustanovil ansambel petih plesalcev in vzpostavil kontinuiteto delovanja. Naj poudarim: to ni skupina Iztoka Kovača, to je skupina EnKnapGroup, ki jo sicer umetniško vodim, a se je v šestih letih izoblikovala z delom in karizmo več kot 20 tujih in domačih koreografov in režiserjev. Po šestih letih mislim, da je bila to odlična poteza. Tudi zato, ker smo v tem času dobili v upravljanje javno infra-strukturo, kjer ima skupina svoj oder, svoje vadbene prostore, torej pogoje za kontinuirano delovanje. Tudi občinstvo se je v teh letih začelo graditi in povečevati, kar je dokaz, da je bila odločitev pravilna.

Si tu prišel v intimen konflikt? Z nazivom umetniški vodja v zavodu tovrstne velikosti si, predvidevam, tudi producent, direktor, organizator. Kako usklajuješ te zahteve z zahtevami umetniškega ustvarjanja?Za zdaj si z veseljem vzamem čas tudi za delo z EnKnapGro-up, tako da s tem nimam težav, a razčistimo. Sem direktor

nevladne organizacije Zavod EN-KNAP in umetniški direktor Centra kulture Španski borci. Direktorica Centra kulture je Meta Lavrič, za produkcijo, promocijo, trženje in organizacijo imamo zaposlene sodelavce. Za produkcijo EnKnapGroup, ki ima domicil v Španskih borcih, stojim tudi umetniško. Vse, kar je širši program v Centru kulture Španski Borci, je stvar pogodbe z Mestno občino Ljubljana (MOL), po kateri letno razpisujemo programska sodelovanja za podizvajalce, s kate-rimi poleg lastnih in drugih dejavnosti generiramo vsebine, ki definirajo profil hiše.

Na razpis MOL za upravitelja Španskih borcev ste se odzvali zelo hitro. Imeli ste le nekaj tednov za oddajo kompleksnega programa.Pomembno je, da v takih trenutkih nisi sam, da imaš ekipo.

Ste tudi odločitev takoj sprejeli?Seveda, saj smo si že pred tem prizadevali za pridobitev svojih prostorov, kajti ansambel zahteva urejeno, kontinuirano delovanje.

Kako je z vložkom dela in denarja? Kako ločujete produkcijska sredstva od sredstev za delovanje prizorišča?



Določen prostor upravljaš pod določenimi pogoji, opredelje-nimi s pogodbo. In to določa lastnik. Z mestom dosegamo lep kompromis, svoje ambicije smo lahko precej svobodno udeja-njili. Razpis je bil precej nestimulativen, v pogodbi je bil MOL zelo zaščiten. A kljub temu smo dosegli svoj interes. Sčasoma, s preseganjem pogodbenih obveznosti, izboljšujemo pogoje. Je pa to stvar dialogov. In pomembno je, da si pri tem realen, da veš, s kom se pogovarjaš, kaj lahko pričakuješ.

Striktno ločuješ ples od uprizarjanja, sodobnega uprizarjanja.Meni je najljubši ples še vedno tisti, ki analizira, raziskuje in sestavlja gib, ne toliko tisti, ki se ukvarja zgolj z razlogi in s tem, kako stopiti pred občinstvo. V plesu obstaja tudi zelo močan kodiran baletni jezik, vendar je danes bistveno obvla-dovanje različnih tehnik in žanrov plesa, da prideš kot izva-jalec ali avtor do lastnega gibalnega izraza. In to je osnova za sodobni ples. Samo razmišljanje o plesu – ni ples. Vsakodnev-no fizično ukvarjanje s telesom je osnovna higiena, potrebna za vrhunskega ustvarjalca v plesu. Dober plesalec je tisti, ki je preživel veliko časa v studiih, se soočil z različnimi tehnikami, oblikoval svoj jezik ali pa postal virtuoz v nekem drugem. Tudi vrhunsko baletno uprizoritev z veseljem pogledam.

Tvoji odgovori kažejo na zelo tradicionalen pristop k produkciji. Zelo tradicionalno razumeš pogoje, logiko, posledice ustvarjanja umetnosti.Pri svojih 50. letih si to lahko privoščim. Nisem več »mladi koreograf«, kot so radi imenovali našo generacijo.

če bi danes postal minister za kulturo: kaj bi bili tvoji kratkoročni in kaj dolgoročni prednostni cilji?Minister ne bom, vem pa, kaj bi mu svetoval glede profesi-onalizacije sodobnega plesa. Sodobni ples nujno potrebuje javno institucijo! Šele močna institucija upraviči obstoj močne nevladne scene. Javno institucijo vidim kot hišo z večjim in manjšim odrom, z vsaj dvema studiema, enim za stalni ansambel, drugim za tekočo neodvisno produkcijo, ki jo je treba stimulirati, ki jo je treba podpirati na najvišjem nivoju. In hišo z močno mednarodno izmenjavo, s koprodukcijami, rezidencami, kjer se mešajo tuji in domači kvalitetni umetni-ki. Z oddelkom za teorijo pa bi obenem dvignili raven kritič-nega razmišljanja, kvaliteto dela (ne samo v umetnosti, tudi v produkciji, in ne samo v bodočem javnem, ampak tudi v nevladnem sektorju). S tem bi v Sloveniji rešili velik problem.

Kar opisuješ, bi bil unikum. V Sloveniji tega, kar opisuješ, ne počne niti ena slovenska institucija, vsaj na umetniškem področju.Zakaj pa bi ne bili unikum? Imamo dovolj znanja, mednaro-dnih izkušenj, norosti in energije. Z ustanovitvijo osrednje institucije za sodobni ples, predvidenimi zaposlitvami, ure-ditvijo statusa samozaposlenih itd., bi se Slovenija dodatno uveljavila kot prva od mlajših članic EU, ki je po vzoru razvitej-ših držav sistematizirala dejavnost na tem področju in s tem

uresničila dolgoletna prizadevanja celih generacij po profesi-onalizaciji in splošni afirmaciji sodobnega plesa.

Zasebni zavod ima prednost svobodnega odločanja glede umetniških vsebin, produkcijskih odločitev. V javnega se skoraj po definiciji meša politika. Hkrati pa vse prepogosto vidimo, da zasebni zavodi izpolnjujejo javne mandate in izvajajo etično dosledne in vsebinsko nujne programe, javni pa pogosto zaidejo v sinekure, samozadostnost. Ko govoriš o mednarodnihpovezavah,jeoff-scenavSlovenijivelikouspe-šnejša od javnih zavodov. Zakaj ponujati javno institucijo kot dobrodošel model?če misliš, da je tako, potem nam ni treba ničesar spremeniti. Potem je v redu, tako kot je. A meni ni. Ker nihče ne bo ene ali več nevladnih organizacij financiral do meje, da bo lahko zaprla prej omenjene vrzeli pri doseganju jasne družbene pozicije sodobnega plesa. Poleg tega so izkušnje pokazale, da konsenza na sceni ne bo enostavno doseči. Sodobni ples v Sloveniji nujno potrebuje jasno družbeno pozicijo, ali kot so zapisali v osnutku strateškega dokumenta, Nacionalnega programa za kulturo 2014–2017: »Vzpostavitev kvalitetnega in učinkovitega okolja za vrhunsko sodobno plesno produkcijo, povečanje obsega in povečanje prepoznavnosti sodobnega plesa.«



Iztok KovačA FRAGILEFATE

Intellectual emigration is very much a theme de jour. you left and came back. Why?In the 80s, I left yugoslavia. I left because of the single-mindedness, not because of the mindlessness. Because of the horizons that opened abroad. My options were not yet clear in dance at the time. I was drawn out by the hunger for knowl-edge, for meeting new challenges. I was not a brain then, I was muscle and the muscle went to seek better working condi-tions. To Belgium. We were lucky then, we didn’t need extra visas with our red passports, we could travel anywhere. There were some problems in the early 90s, after the independence, as Slovenia had not yet been recognized internationally. It wasn’t hard to go. It was harder to establish myself in new spaces without any references. And I came back often. Mostly to recharge, I think.

And what was the perspective of a contemporary dancer in Slovenia at the time? In the middle of the 80s, a few of my colleagues already began to acquire the status of independent cultural workers. Most of them were connected with Ksenija Hribar,1 with the work of Ljubljana Dance Theatre, half-professionally. But in real-ity, the profession of contemporary dancer did not yet exist. There was no perspective in the sense of stability, but there was a lot of enthusiasm.

What did you come back with, what did you bring?

In 1993, I founded En-Knap dance group in Belgium and brought it back to Ljubljana in 1994, forming EN-KNAP pro-ductions. I returned to circumstances in which new possibili-ties began to open to people. A freedom established itself, production-wise as well. Private institutions were founded. Because there was no institution that would represent, defend or encompass our guild, we were forced to found private in-stitutes. The only serious venue for contemporary dance was Cankarjev Dom.

In the late 80s, early 90s, the contemporary performing arts scene was strong and the European programmers rode that horse hard. For example: in 1994, it was not hard for me to fill the Linhart Hall twice with my first show, without seri-ous marketing. Because there were many fewer events, people were hungry for information, in particular that which came from abroad.

AndbecauseIhadlivedabroadIthoughtdifferently,Ibroughthomedifferentcriteria,differentdemandsofmycollaborators. And people were alarmed by this criteria, even disturbed. But I insisted and demanded a lot from myself and others. From the dance scene, too, I expected a serious, fo-cused approach, steps forward in the quality of production, in critical thought, in connecting ... This was when we founded the Contemporary Dance Association,2 mostly to be able to stand together regarding bettering our production conditions, important to all of us.


1 [1938–1999] Slovenian dancer, chore-ographer and pedagogue. She was one of the co-founders of Ljubljana Dance Theatre. 2 The Contemporary Dance Association

Slovenia (CDAS) is a voluntary association of pro-fessionals in the field of contemporary dance in Slovenia (dancers, choreographers, pedagogues, theoreticians and critics).

3 Andrej Drapal, philosopher, producer and lobbyist, manager of the theatre program of Cankarjev Dom at the time.4 EN-KNAP productions was awarded the

administration of the then newly established Španski Borci Culture Centre in 2009.

What were the working and production conditions for dance then, regarding financing and stability? It’s hard for me to judge, mainly there was far far less produc-tion. My main problem at the time was looking for my artistic identity, not producing my work. I had a kind of allergy to single-mindedness, to control, to the totalitarian system. An allergy to the whole bureaucracy of government, municipal issues, even to the Cultural Society, as we then called the Min-istry of Culture ... I didn’t want funds from the latter, so until 1995 I never even applied for grants.

So you were financed by Cankarjev Dom? How exactly did EN-KNAP get the funds for your first show?It was then fully financed by producers in Belgium. In Cankar-jev Dom, the manager of the performing arts at the time was Andrej Drapal,3 who came into the story as a co-producer.

With space and technical support?I don’t know, I didn’t deal with production then. Perhaps Can-karjev Dom bought the performance in advance or chipped in. My collaboration with the Belgians was a serious thing: I could wholly focus on carrying out the performance and on my invited collaborators.

So when did you become a cultural bureaucrat?Is that what it’s called? In 1994, I founded my institute; that’s when my performances became self-produced, supported by a strong foreign and local (mostly Cankarjev Dom) co-produc-tion network.

With Slovenian or foreign funds? At some point you must have overcome your “allergy” ...I think it was in 1995 that we first applied to the Ministry of Culture. I don’t remember who the minister was then. Nor do I remember how the budget was structured. Beside the funds we raised, our main partner for 10 years was Cankarjev Dom; I think the international co-production was strong as well, I believe they contributed most of the funds.

So you enter the Slovenian cultural scene. Do Slovenian cul-tural politics have a vision? What is it like? What are Slovenian cultural politics? It depends on what periodwe’retalkingabout,theenergyisdifferenteverytime.In the period we’ve been working in, a number of politicians have changed at the head the institutions that decide the politics and distribute the funds. Some were more, others less appreciative of the meaning to culture; some were more able to articulate their knowledge and plans than others. We know that without political will, cultural politics are merely a mark on paper. Things happen when politics decide to move something. It would be hard to say that any single one of our ministers achieved a “cultural flowering”, but we do know where to find successful cases abroad.

Indifferentperiodsthepoliticalwillwasverydifferent.In the late 90s, the tendencies toward contemporary dance

were correct. The genre spread, developed. On the other hand, it was not enough. A second, necessary step was never taken, one that would launch the genre into the social milieu. The production was expanded and dispersed and then left in that state. Contemporary dance, as an artistic genre, is therefore unprotected today. Any political option without an ear for it can easily marginalize it or even shut it down. I’ve been warn-ing about this possibility for years.

Since its conception, CDAS has been warning about the neces-sity of an institutionalization for the security of the genre; but in 20 years, this has not happened. Why?Why hasn’t the institution happened? I don’t know. If Ksenija Hribar hadn’t left us too soon, perhaps things would be better. In her, the generation had an eminence in which we all trust-ed, believed in. Ksenija had a beautiful, connecting energy. In talking to her, you felt precious. She had breadth, understand-ing, she was connected with the structures of the day, about which we, “the kids”, had no idea. After her death, there was no more authority, energy to connect us all.

We are missing a public institution that would foremost have to fill in some gaps in achieving a clear social position of contemporary dance: from education at all levels to the set-tling of the legal status of the contemporary dancer, employ-ment, a permanent stage, top level production and continued international exchange; pronounced media coverage, an ordering theory, criticism, archiving. The existing educa-tion institutions at the high-school level or the guild are not enough. This is why the fate of the genre today is very fragile.

Drama theatre workers have large, serious institutions to converse with, with employees in the cultural field number-ing second only to national TV. Are the two ballet houses the dance field equivalent? In Italy, the opera and ballet houses are under the purview of the Ministry of Tourism as a living museum. Are the Ljubljana and Maribor Ballets your equals?you are correct in stating that these are the only two dance in-stitutions in Slovenia with strong ensembles, thereby respon-sible carriers of a certain dance culture. I must also admit that I am very badly versed in ballet, even though I trained in it for years. Despite that, in 2006, I received a commission by SNG Maribor to create a performance with their ballet ensemble. We prepared a co-production project between SNG Maribor, Cankarjev Dom and EN-KNAP. The performance was good; the project was a good example of co-production between private and public institutions.

I have never received any commissions from Ljubljana Ballet, not even any real contact. However, now that I am the artistic leader of a small ensemble with a home stage in the ŠpanskiBorciCultureCentre,thesituationisdifferentfromthat in 2006.4 We can now, with chosen partners, make larger productions ourselves.

At the end of the 90s there were several attempts by institu-tions to reinvent themselves and surpass aesthetic, content

Iztok Kovač 65 A FRAGILE FATE


frameworks. Am I wrong in saying that the borderline is growing sharper again?I don’t know, tradition must exist. It’s good that we have classical theatre, opera and ballet in the country. That’s important. But everyone needs to freshen up once in a while. For example, the Paris Opera has recently tried some more contemporary approaches and it turned out to have been a good move. I’m not talking about rejuvenating ensembles but rather about commissioning great artistic names, original poetics which transcended classical expectations and yet were very well received with audiences.

It is very important to build an audience through the years. When I did choreography for the Oldenburg National Theater, this 180-year-old object was being renovated. In order not to lose their long-term ticket holders, not to break the tradition, they leased an old aircraft hangar at the edge of town and for year and a half turned it into an exquisite concert and theatre venue. This was a huge risk, a financial input that was not covered by either the city or the state. They raised private funds. They kept two seasons alive, increased their audience numbers, raised their prestige and this later paidoffrichly.

This is what we must consider. The continuity of opera-tion, how to build and educate audiences, how to build trust, even through generations. These are facts, manners of think-ing without which a strong institution cannot function.

you chose an ensemble model and a model of administrating public infrastructure. Why? Was it a correct decision? Let’s start with the ensemble model.In 2005, I realized that after more than 10 years of working on a project basis, I had reached a point where I couldn’t see the sense of it anymore. And let’s be clear: during this time we had achieved exceptional results in the sense of interna-tional co-productions, touring, awards ... Despite all this, I

had grown fed up with this production model: to organize internationalauditions,choosethebestcast,offerthem“Slovenian” conditions, conditions then that are relatively worse in comparison to those of my Western colleagues. To work at a tiring tempo, in bad rehearsal conditions, under great demands; then stage the premiere and have the show be completely dependent on solely the touring dynamic. If we were lucky and the show was a success and the stars were on our side, we would tour many world stages, otherwise it was all in vain. After all these years, this no longer suited me. In the beginning, the touring principle was self-evident, but with time it no longer excited me. I began to look for the sense of my undertakings in continuity. If we Slovenians were able to establish a repertoire, a continuity in theatre, concert halls, opera and ballet, I am certain we can do the same in contem-porary dance.

This is why in 2007 I used the funds I had available as grants from the Ministry and the municipality to change my model of production into a repertoire one, founding an ensemble of five dancers and establishing a continuity. Let me emphasize: this is not Iztok Kovač’s group, this is EnKnap-Group, which I do lead artistically but which had developed over six years through the work and charisma of over 20 local and foreign choreographers and directors. After six years, I think this was a great move. More so because during this time we were awarded the administration of public infrastructure, where the group now has its own stage, rehearsal spaces, the conditions for continued activities. The audiences too began to build and grow during these years, which is proof that the decision was the right one.

Did you face an internal conflict here? In an institute of this size, I guess you are a producer, manager, organizer as well as an artistic director. How do you reconcile the demands of these jobs with those of artistic creativity?

For now I am happy to take the time to work with EnKnap-Group, so it’s not a problem for me, but let’s clear thing up. I am the manager of the NGO EN-KNAP and artistic director of the Španski Borci Cultural Centre. The manager of the cultural center is Meta Lavrič, we employ collaborators for production, promotion, marketing and organization. I also lead EnKnapGroup artistically and this group is domiciled in Španski Borci. The entire wider program in the Španski Borci Cultural Centre is down to the contract with the Ljubljana Municipality, according to which we publish yearly calls for subcontractors to generate the content that defines the profile of the venue.

you were very quick to answer the municipality’s call for administering Španski Borci. The deadline was very short, a few weeks to apply with a very complex program.At such moments it is very important not to be alone, to have a team.

Did you also reach the decision immediately?Of course, as we had been striving for our own space before-hand. An ensemble demands an ordered, constant situation.

How do you deal with investments of labor and funding? How do you separate the production funding from funding for the functioning of the venue?We administer the space under certain conditions, as stated in the contract. These conditions are set by the owner. We have been reaching a good compromise with the city, and we have been quite free in realizing our ambitions. The call itself was quite unappealing, the municipality is very protected in the contracts. But we were able to protect our interests. Slowly, through surpassing the contractual obligations, we are im-proving the conditions. It is all a matter of dialogue. And it’s important to be realistic in this, to know who you’re talking with, to know what to expect.

you are very strict in separating dance from the performing arts, contemporary performing arts. My favorite dance is still that which analyses, researches and collates movement and not that which deals mainly with rea-sons and how to approach audiences. In dance, there is a very strong coded ballet language, but it is very important today to be proficient in various techniques and genres. And this is the basis for contemporary dance. Just thinking about dance – is not dance. The basic hygiene for the professional dancer is daily work on your body. A good dancer will have spent a lot oftimeinstudious,facingdifferenttechniques,developinghis or her own language or become a virtuoso in someone else’s. I also enjoy a good ballet very much.

your answers show a very traditional approach to production. you are very traditional in your understanding of the conditions, the logic and the consequences of creating art.

IcanaffordthatsinceIam50yearsold.Iamnolongera“young choreographer” as they liked to call our generation.

If you were to become the Minister of Culture today, what would be your short-term and long-term key goals?I will never be the minister, but I do know what I would advise in regards to the professionalization of contemporary dance. Contemporary dance urgently needs a public institution. It is only a strong public institution that can legitimize the exist-ence of a strong non-governmental scene. I see this public institution as a venue with a smaller and a bigger stage, at least two studios, one for a permanent ensemble, the other for current independent production, which needs to be stimu-lated, supported at the highest level. A house with a strong international exchange, co-productions, residencies, where local and foreign quality artists mix. And with a theoretical department to raise the level of critical thinking, the quality of work (not only in art but also in production and not only in the future public but also in the private sector). This would solve a great problem in Slovenia.

What you describe would be unique. No Slovenian institution (at least in the art field) does what you describe. So why shouldn’t we be unique. We have enough knowledge, international experiences, madness and energy. By founding a central institution for contemporary dance and the employ-ment it would bring, by fixing the status of the self-employed, etc., Slovenia would be the first among the younger EU members to systematize the field, thereby bringing to fruition the years-long endeavors of whole generations toward profes-sionalizing and widely affirming contemporary dance.

A private institution has the advantage of freely deciding about matters of art, production. Almost by definition, a public one is interfered with by politics. And all too often, we see private institutes fulfilling public mandate, implement-ing ethically consistent and necessary programs, while the public ones stumble into sinecures and self-contentment. you alsotalkaboutinternationalexchange,wheretheoff-sceneinSlovenia is much more successful than the public institutions. Why present a public institution as a welcome model?If you think that, then we don’t have to change anything. Then everything is all right as it stands. But I don’t think so. Be-cause no one will finance a private organization to the extent that could close the aforementioned gaps in reaching a clear social position of contemporary dance. Experience has also shown that we will simply not be able to reach a consensus within the scene. Contemporary dance in Slovenia urgently needs a clear social position, or as they stated in the draft of the strategy document the National Cultural Program 2014–2017:“Establishingaqualityandeffectiveenvironmentfortop dance production, extending the range and improving the recognition of contemporary dance.”

Iztok Kovač 67 A FRAGILE FATE


Post festum

V času nastajanja intervjujev prihaja v sloven-skem kulturnem prostoru do novih preobratov, premislekov. Dva od mojih sogovornikov danes svetujeta aktualnemu ministru dr. Urošu Grilcu pri reformi področne zakonodaje. Njen javnosti že predstavljeni prvi del, ki se pretežno dotika statusa samozaposlenih v kulturi, deluje premišljeno, a predvsem popravlja napake predhodne garniture. Levji delež, ki naj bi reformiral predvsem javne zavode, še nastaja.

V tem času je nastal tudi osnutek novega Nacionalnega programa za kulturo za prihod-nje štiriletno obdobje; na videz ambiciozen in odločen, prebran iz skeptične pozicije pa lahko tudi klientelističen in nevaren. In spet se vsebinski premisleki zapisujejo v generalijah, konkretno pa v ospredje stopata ekonometrija in ekonomizem.

Ob zdaj že tradicionalnem klestenju program-skih sredstev se scena razdorno obrača navznoter, še se ostrijo ločnice med javnim in zasebnim. Tudi moji sogovorniki, razumljivo in človeško, več napak in razvojnih rezerv vidijo pri drugem, na področjih, ki jih morda poznajo manj živo. In vendar med vrsticami najdemo prostor za možen dialog, skupno delovanje za skupno stvar.

Kapitalistu pomeni kriza priložnost. Umet-niku lahko izziv. In tudi slovenska kultura je v krizi. Na festumu po reformah se bodo morda na pogorišču mastili posamezniki pri koritu, ali bo to pojedina pametne kulture in dobre umetnosti, pa ostaja odprto.

V prihodnjih številkah bomo k pogovoru povabili tri deležnice s področja kulturne politike, ki naj bi razgrnile tudi tri drugačne poglede na to prakso, nenazadnje iz ženskega vidika: Uršulo Cetinski, direktorico Slovenskega mladinskega gledališča, naše v tujini najbolj prepoznavne gledališke institucije; Barbaro Hieng-Samobor, ki vodi Mestno gledališče ljubljansko, gledališko hišo z več ponovitvami predstav, kot je dni v letu; ter Ne-venko Koprivšek, vodjo zasebnega zavoda Bunker, ki deluje na meji definicije umetniškega in javnega.

PovzetekSerija pogovorov o slovenski kulturni politiki iz vidika upravljavcev in ustvarjalcev s področja uprizoritvenih umetnosti. Govorimo s tremi prak-tiki produkcije in umetnosti, katerih podstat je prevpraševanje, kontekstualiziranje. Simon Kar-dum je iz aktivista prešel v izvajalca, iz sanjača v politika. Je direktor pred nedavnim ustanovljenega sodobnega javnega zavoda CUK Kino Šiška. Janez Janša se odpre razmisleku o odnosih med javnim in nevladnim sektorjem, med tem, kar bi bilo prav in kar je, ter o odnosu do morebitnih posledic zabrisanja te meje. Že dolga leta vodi eno največjih nevladnih institucij na svojem področju. Iztok Kovač razmišlja pragmatično, na dolge proge. In se osredotoča na institucijo, v smislu sebe in/ali v smislu žanra. Je pionir organizacije na plesnem polju. Sogovorniki več napak in razvojnih rezerv vidijo na področjih, ki jih morda poznajo manj živo. In vendar med vrsticami najdemo prostor za možen dialog, skupno delovanje za skupno stvar.

Ključne besedekultura, politika, kulturna politika, Slovenija, javni zavodi, nevladne organizacije, produkcija, produk-cijske prakse, institucije, institucionalni modeli

Jure Novak je diplomirani gledališki režiser, avtor, performer in prevajalec. Med letoma 2007 in 2010 je umetniško vodil Gledališče Glej. zadnja leta vodi tudi delavnice in predava. živi in dela v Ljubljani.

SLOvENSKA POSTALTERNATIvA 1993–2013

Ime Priimek 69 Ime članka

Post festum

During the course of these interviews, new turna-bouts, reflections are happening in the Slovenian cultural space. Two of my interviewees are current-ly advising the Minister Uroš Grilc on the sector law reform. The first part of this reform, which was presented to the public, mainly dealing with the status of the self-employed, seems well thought out but mostly fixes the errors of the previous legisla-ture. The greater part, which should reform public institutions, remains in development.

Recent months also saw the publication of the draft of the National Cultural Program for the upcoming four years, an apparently ambitious and resolute document – but when read from a skepti-cal position, potentially clientelistic and danger-ous. And again: the considerations of content are written as generalia, while econometrics and economism take a concrete forefront.

With the now traditional austerity cuts to the program funds, the scene is turning inward destructively, with the borders between the public and private growing sharper. The interviewees, too, understandably and quite humanly, see more er-rors and developmental reserves in the other, in the areas that they are perhaps less familiar with. And yet, between the lines, we find space for possible dialogue, common work for a common cause.

A capitalist sees crisis as an opportunity. An artist may see it as a challenge. And Slovenian culture is in crisis. The post-reform festum could be a scavenging by the selected few through the ashes or a feast of smart culture and good art: this remains to be seen.

In the following editions, we will interview three managers, well versed in cultural politics, whoshouldpresentthreedifferentviewpoints,notleast from a female point of view: Uršula Cetinski, the manager of Slovensko Mladinsko Theatre, the most recognized abroad of our theatre institutions; Barbara Hieng-Samobor, who runs the Ljubljana City Theatre, one with more shows than there are days in the year; and Nevenka Koprivšek, manager of the private Bunker Institute, working on the borderline between the artistic and the public.

AbstractA series of discussions about Slovenian cultural politics from the viewpoint of managers and crea-tors of the performing arts. We interview three practitioners, producers and artists who question and contextualize their own actions. Simon Kar-dum has transitioned from activist to practitioner, from dreamer to politician. He is the manager of the public institution CUK Kino Šiška. Janez Janša considers the relationship between the public and private cultural sectors. He describes what the differences between the two are and were, and what they could be, and the consequences of eras-ing these differences. He is the longtime manager of Maska Institute, one of the biggest NGOs in the field of the performing arts in Slovenia. Iztok Kovač is a pragmatist, thinks in the long-term and focuses on the institution in the context of the in-dividual and the contemporary dance genre. He is a pioneer in institutionalizing Slovenian contempo-rary dance and the manager of the Španski Borci Culture Centre. The interviewees see more errors and possibilites for development in the areas that they are perhaps less familiar with. Between the lines, we find space for possible dialogue, common work for a common cause.

Keywordsculture, politics, cultural politics, Slovenia, public institutions, NGOs, production, modes of produc-tion, institutions, institutional models

Jure Novak is a professional theatre director, author, performer and translator. between 2007 and 2010, he was the artistic director of Ljubljana’s Glej Theatre. In recent years, he has also been leading workshops and lectures. He lives and works in Ljubljana.

POSTALTERNATIvE IN SLOvENIA 1993–2013

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