CENSORSHIP & ART SUPPRESSION: "Fifth Branch" Declassified

"Starbucks is not going to hang the next 'Piss Christ.' "  You heard it here first.

The following DECLASSIFIED interview explores the suppression of art in the post-9/11 United States o' America. How do we as artists and writers, but also as publishers and presenters and curators, deal with controversial material? Artist Joshua Berger, publisher Camela Raymond, attorney Kohel Haver, art critic Richard Speer, and an unnamed ACLU representative all weigh in on this surprisingly thorny subject. Originally appeared in the "Exquisite Language" issue of 2GQ's print journal.

 DECLASSIFIED: Joshua Berger's "Fifth Branch"
by Tiffany Lee Brown

2 Gyrlz Quarterly presents the inaugural edition of DECLASSIFIED, a series exploring censored and suppressed artwork and literature. The word "censorship" usually refers to situations in which the government officially keeps something from being viewed, read, performed, or otherwise distributed. But those whose work sends uncomfortable messages, asks confrontational questions, or just plain gets too messy may find themselves without any outlet for distribution, exhibition, or publication—especially when conservative attitudes and fear of economic survival are on the rise. It may not be official censorship, but this situation breeds an atmosphere of suppression in which controversial concepts, imagery, and words are safely relegated to the margins or shoved under the rug. We hope that DECLASSIFIED will offer some insight into the difficulties surrounding the creation and dissemination of such work—and the tough decisions facing the gatekeepers who must decide what to publish, distribute, or show.

NOTE: Since this article was originally published, the artwork in question, "Fifth Branch," has been printed in a limited edition and was shown at the Mark Woolley Gallery in Portland, Oregon.

Easy Target: "Fifth Branch"
Last summer, The Organ Review of Arts publisher/editor Camela Raymond invited Joshua Berger, Plazm Media co-founder and 2GQ's sometimes consulting art director, to create a two-sided poster related to the upcoming elections. It would be distributed inside the popular Portland arts paper in autumn, 2004.
    The resulting artwork, entitled "Fifth Branch" and reproduced here, was rejected for publication. Berger and his daugher created another poster for The Organ which was accepted and distributed as planned. I conducted interviews via phone and email with the ACLU, an attorney, and an art critic, along with Berger and Raymond.
    "Fifth Branch" is reproduced on the postcard sealed on the inside back cover of this publication. If some reprehensible scumwit has absconded with your cards in the bookstore, please send us a self-addressed, stamped envelope sized 5" x 7" or larger, and we'll send you a replacement. Disclosure: in typical Portland fashion, Raymond, Berger, and I all know each other personally as well as professionally.

The Artist: Questions for Joshua Berger

Camela Raymond of The Organ commissioned you to create a poster before the elections...
Yes. The issue would be out in early fall, prior to the US national November elections. She wanted to have some type of political statement on the poster and she offered the space to me. The brief was quite open; the poster could be about the presidential election, the war in Iraq, local ballot issues, essentially anything that caused political dialogue and thought.

You came back to Camela with "Fifth Branch," a design combining the Target corporation logo with an image of George Bush. How did she react?
She seemed okay with it upon initial viewing. I had emailed it to her, and we were talking on the phone. About an hour later, she called me back to say that she needed to think about it, and wanted to solicit opinions from some of her friends that night. We were at deadline—it was Friday night and everything was due Sunday at the latest. She called me the next day to tell me she didn't think it was an appropriate statement for The Organ to make.
    It was an interesting discussion—one of the things she said was that if Bush was re-elected, then perhaps it would be more appropriate. She told me she hadn't given up on the democratic process. I don't consider the image about giving up on the democratic process. I consider it a statement about how, in George W. Bush's America, every citizen—in fact our entire country—has become a target.
    Think about if this poster pictured Osama bin Laden as opposed to George W. Bush. There are many outlets which would publish such a work. Post-9/11, in fact, there have been a lot of iterations on this theme, starting at the very top of the American government with George W. Bush's "Wanted Dead or Alive" posters with Osama bin Laden's face on them.

How did you feel about The Organ's decision not to publish the piece?
It’s Camela’s magazine and I respect her right to publish or not to publish something. The hardest part was that because of the deadline there was no time to start over. I was not willing to alter the work. Fortunately I had another concept which I wanted to execute, so that made the decision a little easier to swallow.

You’ve had trouble getting printers to work with this image. Can you describe what happened?
I have been turned down based on the content. The printer said he was against the idea of responding to violence with violence.

I can see dozens of layered messages in “Fifth Branch," and I didn't interpret the piece as a call to violence. As a visual artist, do you think it’s important to let people think for themselves when they approach artwork? Or do you favor the Artist’s Statement as a way of pre-interpreting the images for the viewer?
I am not a believer in spelling out everything for the viewer, but I do believe in providing appropriate contextualization. In the case of this image, the location is also a factor. When this is wheat-pasted on the street, there shouldn't be any statement. In a gallery, where there's an opportunity for critical and considered dialogue, I would take the opportunity to make a statement. I think it is important with this image—which has the potential to result in an vitriolic response—to write a statement.

Has your work ever been refused before because it was too controversial?
I have created advertising work which has been censored by publications.

You’ve also been a co-publisher and art director of Plazm magazine for over a dozen years. Have you ever been on the other side of a similar situation?
There's never been an instance where Plazm invited an artist’s participation, then rejected their artwork based on its content. Of course, much unsolicited work has been rejected based on both quality and content. As publishers and editors, we have the right to print or not print anything we like, just like you do with 2GQ. If someone gave me a piece of art which I was diametrically opposed to—say an endorsement of the Ku Klux Klan—I would have no problem refusing to publish it.

What should artists and writers consider when approaching highly controversial subjects, if they hope for the results to be shown or published?
The most important thing is not to censor yourself. I consider it the artist’s job to challenge perceptions of the status quo. Create what you believe is right. If it gets turned down, it's likely you are saying something that needs to be said.

What are your future plans for “Fifth Branch?”
I will produce it as a poster for use on the street. A number of people have volunteered to distribute it already. I've been talking with other publications and exhibition spaces about its use as well. I also have some online distribution methods available. We’ll see what happens. I'm confident it will be distributed.

Do you have any further comments about this issue?
One of the surprising things about this case was the feeling of being censored by a like-minded independent publication. When I think of censorship, I imagine it being at the hands of “The Man.” But like I said, I have a lot of respect for The Organ and for Camela, and recognize it is her right to accept or reject work. Independent media is absolutely critical, and through the Internet, global distribution is available to anyone who can access the technology. So if there is something that needs to be said, just make it happen, don’t wait for someone else to do it. In spite of the fact that 90% of media in this country is controlled by five corporations—with financial interests related to the news they report—there are multitudes of venues available to the independent artist.

The Publisher/Editor: Questions for Camela Raymond

You commissioned Joshua Berger to design a poster...
Yes, I asked Josh to create a poster dealing with the election. I chose Josh not only because he’s a good designer but also because I knew he wanted Bush out of office as much as I do and he isn’t afraid to express his views in public. I told him he had free reign—the poster could simply encourage people to vote, or could address a single issue in the election, or express a very partisan, anti-Bush message, which I encouraged. I wanted something people could hang on their wall or in their window prior to the election.

Josh came back to you with "Fifth Branch," a design combining the
Target corporation logo with an image of George Bush. What was your gut reaction to the design?
My initial gut reaction was mixed. Given that we were going to press in a week, and Josh was going on vacation in two days, I wanted to like it for obvious practical reasons. Also, it was clear that he’d done exactly what I’d asked—and a little more. It was a really powerful image, and it kind of slammed me in the chest. It showed a black-and-white image of Bush giving a speech in front of a banner reading “Protect the homeland.” On his heart was a red Target logo. Clearly it was based on an irony: the country’s self-proclaimed protector being represented as a shooting target. It was both a comment on the failure of Bush’s war on terrorism and an assassination fantasy, an expression of anger. And a popular superstore was somehow implicated.

Why, and how, did you decide not to publish the poster?
In large part it was a gut decision, because I was in a hurry. If I hoped to get a replacement, I’d have to tell Josh the next day.
    There were lots of factors to consider. What was the poster saying and did I support it? Did my opinion matter? What was my obligation to Josh, who had spent considerable effort designing the poster and had fully met the specifications we’d agreed on? What was my obligation to readers? By printing the poster, would I be promoting a politics of provocation, missing The Organ’s shot at a more constructive message at a crucial moment in political history? Would I risk breaking the law? Alienating readers and advertisers? If I didn’t print it, would I be guilty of censorship? Of cowardice?
    Some answers seemed obvious to me. Censorship wasn’t an issue. Only the state or a media monopoly can effect censorship by making it illegal or impossible for speech to reach an audience. As the publisher of a small magazine, I wasn’t wielding that kind of power.
    Second, I didn’t feel ethically obliged to publish the poster simply because Josh had fulfilled the agreed-upon assignment. Had I promised him a fee, he would have been entitled to it, but I didn’t have to use his design any more than I’d be obliged to wear a dress that I’d had hemmed too short. I knew that if I turned it down I’d feel shitty for wasting Josh’s time and having a disagreement with someone I consider a friend, but I didn’t think that should sway my decision.
    Did my opinions about the poster matter? Yes. I’m not always sure I’m qualified for it, but my most important job as an editor is to make judgments about what to print. In the current media environment, where unmoderated Internet forums and blog sites are growing in popularity, I feel a little old-fashioned, but I still believe in editors acting as mediators and gatekeepers. My goal is to create a publication that people can pick up with the expectation that everything inside will merit their attention. That means it’s my job to turn down things that are half-baked, inappropriately incendiary, or just plain boring. If you don’t care about what you publish, it’s just killing trees and wasting your readers’ time....
    At the time that I was deciding whether to print the poster Josh had given to me, my thinking in this area was pretty emotional and defensive, less cool and abstract, but it amounted to the same result: If The Organ is only going to make only one statement about the 2004 presidential election, it needed to be the right one. It didn’t matter whether the poster was intriguing, well-designed, clever, or whether Josh had fulfilled the assignment. It didn’t even matter whether it represented a viewpoint that deserved airing. In this particular situation, there was only one criterion the poster absolutely had to meet: It had to be a statement that I could get behind.
    Making this judgment needed to begin with a close reading of the poster... This is going to sound kind of weird, but as I stared at the image on my computer screen one thing that nagged at me was, “Why Target?” I wasn’t aware of any uniquely scandalous relationship between Target and Bush’s homeland security policies and war on terror. But it’s not like you could replace it with a Mobil logo—then the poster wouldn’t make any sense. Perhaps the Target logo was being employed as a symbol of corporate evil, but mainly it demanded to be read as a literal target, a place to shoot. Therefore, the poster communicated a double irony:

    “Bush has not protected our homeland, but has made it a target.”

    “Protect our homeland by shooting Bush.”

It could be read either way, or both ways, but a close reading demanded the latter. That meant it was both an expression of righteous rage about the Bush administration’s disastrous policies; and, unarguably I think, a statement of cynicism about the capacity of the democratic process to remove him.
    Was it, moreover, a literal call to assassinate Bush? I didn’t think that was a reasonable interpretation. But did that matter? Anyone who took her cue to assassinate the president from a poster in The Organ wasn’t exactly a reasonable person. And reasonable or not, it might very well be the legal interpretation, punishable as treason, or something, if I recollected correctly something I had read in the past year. Nutcases and the law, and whether to engage in civil disobedience for the sake of free speech, these were matters I felt totally unprepared to address, especially in a 24-hour period, and, honestly, I hoped I could find a good reason not to print the poster....
    Meanwhile, I sought counsel from four people I respect, none of whom have any love for Bush. The first person who weighed in was my partner Randy. Besides being a highly principled person, he has 15 years of experience as a journalist, 10 of which were spent as an art critic. When I showed him the image of the poster on my computer screen he said, “So next time, can I make a poster that says ‘Kill the Jews’?” His advice was that when faced with a question like this, a good test was to put yourself in the shoes of the person you were criticizing. If someone printed my image in the form of a shooting target, how would I feel? Would I consider it a fair strategy of dissent? I wasn’t sure I agreed with the comparison—when you choose to be the president of the United States you choose to endure a certain amount of caricature and even hatred—but I trusted that it stemmed from relevant experience, so this further weighted my leaning toward not printing the poster.
    We got on our bikes and rode to a benefit for the Cinema Project, where I saw several friends, all filmmakers. I described the image to three of them, saying nothing about what I thought it meant, only that I was having doubts about printing it. The first, an adamant far-leftist, expressed vague support for printing it. The second, who had similar political sentiments, responded without hesitation, “Oh, yeah, print it. That motherfucker deserves to be shot. If I was at close range, I’d kill him myself.” The third, who said he’d faced similar dilemmas as a film festival organizer, responded with equal assurance. Since The Organ had previously run an ad for his festival, he considered the question from that point of view. He said he found the image I’d described so offensive to democratic principles that he would have pulled his ad if he had one.
    In the end, I couldn’t build an airtight case for either choice, but I had enough doubts about the image that I felt the best choice was to say no, and I think it was the right choice. I think Josh should have the right to express himself by putting the poster in the world—at the moment I think it’s probably wrong to legally restrict this particular kind of speech—but I didn’t want to use my magazine to put it in the world at such a crucial time and without anything to balance it.

What should artists and writers consider when approaching highly controversial subjects, if they hope for the results to be shown or published?
They should give the publisher ample time to review the idea. I will always be more cautious if I don’t have enough time to make a thorough decision. I don’t mean to imply that Josh was to blame for the tight time window in this instance, though. He turned the image in on time; I just didn’t realize that he would be leaving town soon after the deadline.
    Realizing that it’s actually the publisher or curator who will be pilloried if their work angers audiences, artists and writers should still consider how they would defend the work against criticism if they were called upon to do so. If you make claims that upset commonly-held beliefs, make sure you have the data to back them up. If you call for action, make sure you’ve considered the consequences. Editors, publishers, curators, theater directors, etc. are faced with difficult ethical decisions every day. If you’re like me, if you’re going to take a risk, you want it to be for something that’s worth it.
    Finally, don’t be discouraged if you get turned down. Keep talking to other people who can help you. If you have an important message to get out, and you’re determined to get it out, you’ll find a way.

Legal Concerns and Tinfoil Hats

After the intitial interviews, Raymond's comment about treason and nutcases got me wondering. Do we really live in a world where you can't publish a piece of artwork with countless potential interpretations? If we do have the freedom to publish and display artwork, what does it mean that we are instinctively afraid to deal with provocative materials? And how do we find out what's okay to publish or display?
    I figured the ACLU might be able to clear up these matters. The American Civil Liberties Union considers itself a "guardian of liberty," working to defend and preserve Americans' individual rights and liberties and to conserve America's original civic values as put forth in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. When I described "Fifth Branch" to an ACLU representative, he suggested talking with an attorney before publishing the piece. "Nowadays you don't know what the consequences are," he said.
    "Isn't there someplace an American citizen can go to find out what's acceptable to publish, and what isn't?" I asked. "I take it the Constitution isn't good enough anymore."     The representative replied, "Because of the Patriot Act, it's not clean anymore. A lot of provisions in that are not very clear and you don't know how they're going to be intepreted."
    This hardly seemed reassuring. Is the idea that only wealthy people and those with other access to attorneys can find out how and when to practice free speech in the USA? Or does it suggest we should adopt a pre-emptive approach and avoid controversial work ]in the first place? Like Raymond, I talked with friends and colleagues about the image; their reactions varied. Some worried that "Fifth Branch" would offend people, including donors and supporters. Some thought—as I had thought, before starting into this process—that publishing it shouldn't be a big deal. But the majority displayed some degree of hesitation and fear, especially regarding their own government.
    I considered knitting myself an aluminum ski cap and calling it a day, but instead I rang up the Oregon State Bar. They recommended speaking with Portland attorney Kohel Haver: founding director of the Northwest Lawyers and Artists Association; frequent speaker on the topics of copyrights, contracts, and laws related to the arts business; and, conveniently enough, the attorney of 2 Gyrlz Performative Arts.
    "Self-censorship just doesn't feel right," Haver told me.  As for defining acceptable speech in a new era of homeland security legislation, Haver needed time to consult with colleagues before offering advice. "It's a grey realm, it's not black and white about 'Here's what you can say, here's what you can't say.' The other side of it is [that] the rules shift a little bit when you take this on, because you're commenting on this as a journalist."
    Artists and writers who work with difficult materials still face uncertainty. "You're caught. You have an obligation as an artist [or] writer to address these issues. There was a time in America when Thomas Paine was seditious material. Times change and art has to address where we are, where we were, and where we're going. If it's your intention to challenge the thinking about these things, and that's the plan of your art, pick your arguments carefully and then full speed ahead. And get good counsel who've been to battle on these issues before." He recommends that artists take a thoughtful approach in their arguments and control the discussion.
    "What I mean by that is that if the artist's idea is to make a particular point, then everything they should do should be focused on that point."

The Critic: Questions for Richard Speer

Richard Speer is the art critic for Willamette Week and has written for ARTnews, the Los Angeles Times, and Newsweek. We sent him a digital copy of the "Fifth Branch" postcard for a brief critique.

We haven't given you much time to sit with this artwork. Based on what you've digested so far, can you give us an opinion?
My reading of the work is pretty direct: The phrase "Protect the Homeland" in back of Dubya and the target above his heart would suggest to me that the artist believes the way to protect this country is to get rid of George W. Bush. I would hope the artist is suggesting we get rid of him metaphorically—through the democratic process this November—rather than literally, by assassinating him. The image is whimsical: the newsprint-type dotting of the black-and-white image, paired with the red-and-white Target symbol—and yet there is nothing whimsical about assassination.

Do you think this image advocates violence or promotes a negative attitude toward the election season?
Taken literally, it suggests assassination. I personally find such a suggestion offensive, but whatever—it's the artist's right to offend and my right to be offended. Taken figuratively, it's a metaphor, which is what art does best. Clearly, it's a political statement.

How do you think it affects the arts in America when artists, publishers, and curators are hesitant to display controversial work because popular sentiment has taken a conservative swing, or the government has threatened or censored work? Do you think we are in such a phase presently?
Yes. It's an awful chilling effect, and I'm sick of it. Idiosyncratically, I tend to be offended by work that portrays graphic violence, gore, or scatology. I don't advocating censoring such works, but nor do I enjoy them. I feel that violence is the only obscenity, and I find contemporary culture—particularly in this country—abhorrent in the way it exalts violence. In response to this trend, our conservative (and liberal, see Joe Lieberman) leaders have simply grouped "sex and violence" together and commenced censoring depictions of nudity and eroticism, while turning a blind eye to the pointless, graphic depictions of murder, torture, and gore commonplace in films, television, and video games. I am not suggesting that it is wrong to censor sex but okay to censor violence; I am saying it's indicative of a deep cultural sickness when we equate sexuality, a natural, beautiful element of the human life, with violence, which is the negation of life and human rights. This artwork in particular is violent only by implication, not explicitly.

What would you tell an artist who wanted to work with subject matter or materials that might be found offensive or confrontational by many people?
Go for it. Mark Woolley and other local gallerists show controversial stuff with regularity, e.g., Walt Curtis' paintings of spurting penises and copulating couples. But don't be surprised if more mainstream venues shy away. Starbucks is not going to hang the next "Piss Christ."

What advice would you offer gallery owners, curators, publishers, and presenters who find themselves facing the decision of whether or not to display such work?
To the extent that market forces allow, reconsider censorship. Don't underestimate people's capacity for tolerance. It is not by indulging people's prejudices that we will effect a change in mores, but by challenging them to examine different viewpoints and then decide whether to take them or leave them. The greatness of a free society is our ability to accept or not accept paradigms foreign to us, with no threat of physical or financial compulsion.

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