What the artist experiences in the work of art is, in fact, that artistic subjectivity is absolute essence, for which all subject matter is indifferent; however, the pure creative-formal principal, split from any content, is the absolute abstract inessence, which annihilates and dissolves every content in its continuous effort to transcend and actualize itself. If the artist now seeks his certainty in a particular content or faith, he is lying, because he knows that pure artistic subjectivity is the essence of everything; but if he seeks his reality in pure artistic subjectivity, he finds himself in the paradoxical condition of having to find his own essence precisely in the inessential, his content in what is mere form. His condition, then, is that of a radical split; and, outside this split, everything is a lie. - Giorgio Agamben

The 30 artists represented in this catalog - produced for the occasion of the DNC Show at the Democratic National Convention Headquarters on the 43rd floor of the Atlantic Richfield Company building in downtown Los Angeles - have produced bodies of work which perhaps represent the very real challenge of constructing meaningful art within an increasingly commodified art market; a market which positions itself on what sells and what does not sell and therefore a market which has imposed its own form of censorship.

Can a critical art practice exist in this current atmosphere of profit and loss, of mergers and monopolies? Is there any room for art with political and social value? Is there a place for aesthetically potent art, which can double as a vehicle for social change? One might assume that a venue such as the DNC Show, whose very title contains the word, Democratic, would be the perfect haven. But let us think realistically: considering present-day politics, the "democratic" party is hardly Democratic.

And indeed, certain parameters were established by the DNC at the onset of this exhibition. Nudity and sexual references were forbidden as were any representations of bodily waste or blood --that enigmatic liquid which is apropos only while invisibly contained in the human body but so odious when depicted spilled. In addition, any "overtly" (read: critical) work was deemed unacceptable. At the surface it might seem paradoxical that the "Democratic" party is now adopting the guidelines of what is "proper" public art from one of their strongest political opponents, Jesse Helms. However, we are painfully aware that the dual party system and the ideal of ideological choice is indeed a myth as we observe the two parties melding into one in their desire to exclusively serve corporate America. We have come to realize that the "Democratic" party is really the Atlantic Richfield Company in sheep's clothing.

Perhaps what is most iniquitous is that critical political art cannot find a place in what might at first seem the ideal venue: the political headquarters of the "Democratic" convention. One would assume that criticism is an integral part of the democratic process, that change can only come from questioning what already is, and that dialogue is desirable. But again, let us think realistically: this is hardly what the current political system solicits. We are cognizant that criticism is not a predilection of those in power.

Needless to say, the participants in this group exhibit expressed a certain understandable angst. For the DNC, art meant innocuous art; unsullied art produced as entertainment; a Tipper Gore world of "inoffensive" art. Although each artist responded to the dictates of the DNC in their own fashion, many of the artists in this show expressed concern as to just how they might represent what they believe are pressing political and social issues yet still remain within the parameters of what the DNC considered to be "inoffensive" art. The result is this exhibit: a strong body of work but subsequently produced under a cloud of censorship. And, in the end, three works were physically removed from this exhibit by the DNC as "unacceptable" art.

This is the very issue: what becomes of art when censorship attempts to strip it of any critical meaning; stripping it of content and reducing it to mere form? And, as artists do we simply stand aside and let those in power dictate what we should or should not produce? This is certainly not a new question. But what seems new are the places where censorship rears its ugly head; it begins to seep into every corner, disguised in various forms and at times goes unnoticed. And herein lies a real danger: when we are no longer vigilant and our indifference blinds us.

James Baker
Los Angeles