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Alumni 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 2020 Alumni Devashish Sharma has a BFA in Painting from the Maharaja Sayajirao University, Baroda, and an MFA from the Shiv Nadar University, Greater Noida. After completing his MFA, he joined the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art (KNMA), New Delhi as a trainee, and was part of the team responsible for the physical verification and documentation of the art collection. In 2017, he received the Public Art Grant from the Foundation for Indian Contemporary Art (FICA), New Delhi and was able to pursue his interest in setting up a museum for the children of the villages of Kumharpara and Balengapara, Chattisgarh. The Museum of Questions and Imagined Futures is a space for children to think about the future of history in a rural context. Research on architecture and landscapes is a key part of his practice, and in 2019 through a grant funded by the Max Mueller Bhavan, New Delhi he was able to initiate Road Number Zero, a research project that explores the cusp between rural and urban landscapes within India. His practice revolves around the ideas of bodily experience and movement, and the politics of curating. Devashish is currently based in Bangalore. Beatrice Rubio-Gabriel is an independent curator, writer and performance artist based in Naarm/Melbourne. She finished a double-degree BA in Art History and Theory alongside a BFA from the Monash University School of Art, Design and Architecture, and was the recipient of the BAHCxMUMA Curatorial award at the MADANOW19 exhibition. Centring around a collaborative and experimental practice, she has curated projects that aim to challenge current curatorial and euro-centric modes of exhibiting, and experiments with writing as artform. Her curated projects include /dis/location, MPavilion, Melbourne (2019); The Art of Consumption and The Answers You Need Are Right Where You Are, Intermission Gallery, Melbourne (2019); Revisiting the Quadriennale, CareOf Facility, Milan (2018) and Dwelling Inbetween Here and Some Other Place, Monash Prato Centre, Prato (2018). The former artistic director of Intermission Gallery, she is now currently researching systems of care and intersectional spaces of Resistance Aesthetics. She is also exploring the Baybayin script of the Philippines as a gateway for cultural understanding and re-connection, and how this may be engaged through performance and mark-making. Christophe Barbeau Following a BFA in Quebec City at Université Laval, Christophe Barbeau completed the Master of Visual Studies, Curatorial Studies, at the University of Toronto, Canada, during which his research looked for a political understanding of the position of the “curator” through a specific concept of “authorship”. His projects, as an artist and a curator, have been presented in different group and solo exhibitions in Quebec City, Montreal, Rouyn Noranda, Toronto, Boston, and Nice. Notably : The Die Has Been Cast (2014 Villa Arson, Nice), dans la petite galerie. […] (2014, L’Oeil de Poisson, Quebec City), Dans ce cas-ci (si), […] (2015, Quebec City), Dans le but de décentraliser […] (2016, L’Écart, Rouyn Noranda). In this first stage of projects, the research focused on developing artist’s curated situations of exhibitions where a curatorial strategy was embedded within an artistic practice, specifically through display structures as well as employing strategies of copies, re-makes, re-enactments. Barbeau’s latest exhibitions were entitled : «Qu’avons- nous fait? […] (2019) presented in Toronto; and «and I am the curator of this show1» (2018) presented at the Art Museum University of Toronto in 2018. In this stage of projects, the focus was redirected towards the power relationship specific to the position of the curator, through the use of institutional critique and self-reflexive curatorial gestures, the projects were aiming at deconstructing the conventional and naturalized authorities of the curator, uncovering the political challenges that this figure is facing. < Participants Educational Program Programs >

Astrobus - Ethiopia 2021 The COVID19 crisis is affecting everyone everywhere. No county is safe from the social and economic disruptions caused by the pandemic. Consequently, like every activity that involves gathering people in one space, the Astrobus-Ethiopia program has been revised to adapt to this new reality. We plan to hold Astrobus-Ethiopia 2021 both virtually and in person. The virtual component is to substitute for the movement of people across cities and countries. Astrobus-Ethiopia team members outside the region from where the event will take place will connect to the event through pre-recorded video, and live streams when possible. The local organisers, which we will mobilise from local universities and art clubs, will hold the usual Astrobus gathering on the university grounds. Location Astrobus-Ethiopia’s ambition is to reach students from all corners of Ethiopia through this series of events. In the past, the team travelled to the north and the south of Ethiopia. This year, the team plans to travel to the south west of Ethiopia. Due to current situations in Ethiopia, some areas are inaccessible. As a result of this, we have chosen locations in Ethiopia that are relatively stable, with a high cultural and economic significance, for the next Astrobus event. The Omo region, for example, is a place for the Ari Blacksmiths, who specialize in iron and woodwork, and live on the periphery of settlements. Despite their indispensable contribution to society, Blacksmithing communities are widely regarded as the most marginalised of artisan groups, not just within the Ari but throughout southern Ethiopia where they are known for their craft [1] . Economically, the region hosts Gilgel Gibe III [2] , the largest hydroelectric power plant in Ethiopia with an estimated production capacity of 6,500GWh a year. Being the largest Ethiopian power plant, the Gibe III project is used for floodwater regulation and maintenance, as well as power generation. Astrobus-Ethiopia 2021 will take place in the Arba Minch, Konso, and Jinka cities. The mission of Astrobus-Ethiopia is to stimulate a culture of scientific thinking in Ethiopia by promoting science-art-technology-innovation education and creating public awareness around these. We plan to achieve this by focusing on abstraction and composition, which are the fundamental ideas underpinning the natural sciences, art, technology, and innovation. We design activities to provide an opportunity for the public to explore, learn and understand the main elements of modern civilisation, and how these are realised, i.e. how ideas are created, imagined, tested, mixed, visualised, transformed, and then applied to help improve the state of the world. We create an environment which facilitates new insights into the spaces of science and/or art, and encourages the composition of these insights to solve real challenges in society. Through interactions with role models – especially for underrepresented groups, such as young women – we help challenge negative stereotypes and reshape the students’ perception of their individual abilities, which in turn also impacts society’s perception. The art-science-technology ecosystem we create not only allows students to appreciate these essential human endeavours within their fields, but also fosters trans-disciplinary awareness. For example, by allowing students to use artistic methods to demonstrate their understanding of scientific concepts or objects, we help them make transitions and connections that are not only important for communication, but also the development of innovative problem-solving skills. Reference 1 [1] Lucy van Dorp et al., “Evidence for a Common Origin of Blacksmiths and Cultivators in the Ethiopian Ari within the last 4500 Years: Lessons for Clustering-Based Interference,” PLoS Genet 11(8): e1005397 (Aug 2015): https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pgen.1005397 [2] Power Technology, “Gilgel Gibe III Hydroelectric Power Project,” https://www.power-technology.com/projects/gilgel-gibe-iii-hydroelectric-power-project/ Reference 2

Past Programs 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 2019 Program Archive Call for applications: “WHAT COULD/SHOULD CURATING DO?” curatorial course 2019 February 5, 2019

WCSCD Defining curating Defining WCSCD Situating Our Vision Our Values Our Priorities Programs & Inquiries Plans 2022-2025 Thinking with. Our Team Defining curating WHAT COULD/SHOULD CURATING DO?—WCSCD was initiated in 2018 in Belgrade as an educational platform focused around notions of the curatorial and is a registered civic association. WCSCD was established by Biljana Ciric and these two bodies are deeply entangled and define themselves as she/her. These two bodies are relational and hoping to be transformed by the relationships they are entangled with. Their mode of existence, visibility and opacity in the world is shaped by thinking and walking with an advisory group—which since 2020 has consisted of Matt Packer, Andrea Palasti and Ares Shporta—as an exercise in how to become more than yourself- pluralself (Rolando Vazquez). Defining these two entangled bodies as she/her, we are hoping to engage in larger conversations of deconstruction and of imagining institutions by decolonizing our expectations. What do we mean when we say curating? We understand curatorial practice as walking with. We mean walking not as a way of getting somewhere, but walking with, as sharing time and creating space for unevenness to co-exist. When writing about walking, Canadian geographer Juanita Sundberg separates this into two steps. The first step is positioning, which is locating my body-knowledge in relation to the existing paths I know and walk. Sundberg defines the second step as walking with. “Walking with means ‘reciprocal respect for the autonomy and independence of organizations’ involved in the struggle; in other words, respect for the multiplicity of life worlds. Step two, then, involves learning to learn about multiplicity.” What do we mean when we ask the question What Could/Should Curating Do? We propose this question in order to engage with practices and encourage curating to stay dynamic and responsive in the world around me, anchored in caring with. Situating We are situated in Belgrade, Serbia, where the work of cultural workers is undervalued. A very big part of myself is also situated in the places where our collaborators struggle working under similar conditions. We are also with many bodies that experience and fight against the extraction of natural resources and exploitation of human and more than human worlds. Our Vision We dream and practice contemporary culture as a political movement that stand against that moves away from certain economically bounded locations creating the conditions for us on the margins to participate in discussions where our futures are negotiated and our pasts reflected on. I dream of an instituting model that is attentive to human and more than human worlds, asking myself who I am in relation to others. Our Values Education and new methodologies Ambition and openness to failure as part of the learning process Professional network of colleagues and peers who think together with me Slow modes of working that allow for deeper entanglements Our Priorities Ways of doing based on a pedagogy of positionality Education and methodologies I use in creating new kinds of human Creating citations in art practices from the margins that contribute to the global Ways of working together that are long-term and based on the equal sharing of resources Creating conditions for equal participation within contexts that are economically uneven Contributing to practising towards sustainable art institutions WCSCD existing programs and inquiries 2018-2022 WCSCD’s main program focus is an educational program and long-term inquiries towards decolonizing modes of relationality within the arts. WCSCD’s education program has been run on an annual basis every year since 2018. It is a three-month program for practitioners situated in Belgrade. In 2020 I started the first curatorial inquiry of WCSCD in the form of a long-term research project: As you go…roads under your feet, towards the new future looking at the impact of BRI in Central Asia, Balkan, Ethiopia and China. The project is structured around partner cells: Zdenka Badovinac (Ljubljana), Robel Temesgen and Sinkneh Eshetu (Addis Ababa), Public Library Bor (Bor), Rockbund Art Museum (Shanghai), Times Museum (Guang Zhou), Artcom platform (Almaty) and WCSCD (Belgrade). Our plans 2022-2025 My plan is to work with a group of colleagues to bring WCSCD into a new stage of positioning itself. In this phase WCSCD will consider itself in relation to merging the rural and the urban, through an open inquiry into what it means when an art institution becomes a custodian of the land. I am hoping to explore the role of art institutions within rural-urban, nature-culture relations and possible sustainable economies for both. I hope that our entanglement will bring long lasting alliances, bringing like-minded practitioners together to work collectively on deconstructing our methodologies of working within the arts. Thinking with. Since 2020 I have been thinking with Matt Packer (director of Eva International), Andrea Palasti (artist and educator Novi Sad) and Ares Shporta (director of Lumbardhi Foundation) as part of an active advisory group. From 2023 we will continue without Ares as he is starting a new chapter in his life and we thank him for his insight and knowledge. From 2023 we will welcome to the advisory group Amelie Aranguren (head of artistic programming at INLAND’s Center for the Approach to the Rural (CAR) in Madrid and Inland member since 2010.) Besides the Advisory Group we I have been accompanied in thinking and practising with Susie Quillinan and Madeliene Collie through Study Pattern. Our Team Founding Director Biljana Ciric what.could.curating.do@gmail.com Coordinator Ana Dragic ana.wcscd@gmail.com WCSCD previous team members: Sasa Tkacenko, Katarina Kostandinovic, Ana Anakijev, Aigierim Kapar. Defining WCSCD Situating Our Vision Our Values Our Priorities Programs & Inquiries Plans 2022-2025 Thinking with. Our Team

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities Only One Thing Worse Than Awkward Silence: Small Talk [i] * Originally published on Supervizuelna – online magazine for contemporary art Dear Reader, This letter launches the curatorial journal that accompanies WCSCD featured as part of Supervizuelna’s online magazine. The journal is structured as a platform for the critical reflections of the curators participating in the course. These reflections will thus enter the public realm and create an open dialogue in relation to curatorial practices ¾ as title beautifully teases at, which is borrowed from a work by Saša Tkačenko. On June 27, 2018, we hosted the launch of the project with a public lecture by the director and chief curator of De Appel Niels Van Tomme at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Belgrade, which was very important for our small team. This present form of address, the letter, is inspired by Niels Van Tomme’s talk and his transformation of the De Appel newsletter into a letter format, which offers a more personal note to the publication. We hope this journal will likewise invite a more personal connection to its readers and followers, as well as with and between its contributors. The idea to invite Van Tomme to speak about De Appel came naturally, since De Appel has been educating multiple generations of curators since 1994, many of whom are now running institutions around the world today. Furthermore, Van Tomme’s direction and vision of the institution represents an important and highly relevant shift in terms of how we think about institutions that warrants further reflection and engagement. In many ways it goes against the mainstream logic of institutional visions, which are geared towards the speed of consumption of the institutional program. One of the most important takeaways from Van Tomme’s talk was the constant reminder that institutions today should remain dynamic, as the world around us is also constantly on the move. So, the journal launches with Whispers by Niels Van Tomme; whispers about institutions and the possibilities and impossibilities for their self-reflection. The act of whispering was a crucial part of Van Tomme’s public talk and as a result I invited him to edit an iteration of the journal around this idea. At the same time, I also invited Neva Lukić to contribute a text. Lukić is a curator based between Zagreb and Rotterdam and is one of the curators of the WCSCD course in 2018. I have invited Lukić to provide critical reflection and try to somehow situate the talk by Van Tomme within the local context. Thankfully, the very frustrating period of constantly thinking and rethinking how to make the WCSCD course happen is behind us now, especially from the perspective of fundraising, as this is an independent project. There was also a lot of work to be done in terms of formulating the institutional vision at the outset, which will serve for future years to come and help guide team building. We can tell you in a whisper that we have a clear vision for now, but of course we will also remain dynamic and on the move! Our curatorial colleagues who will be attending the course begin arriving next week in Belgrade (starting September 7, 2018) where they will be situated for three months and will also be contributors to the journal. In fact, their functions are many as they will also serve as tutors, give public talks, and hold closed door workshops for the curators in the course. The next letter for this journal will be a critical reflection from WCSCD curators related to the October Salon, the first thematic unit of the course for early September, followed by a number of other foci that will attempt to avoid small talk, and instead provide more critical reflection on curatorial practices for public consideration. Sincerely, Biljana Ćirić Founder of What Could Should Curating Do curatorial course < Mentors Educational Program How to Apply >

As you go … Online Journal Editorial Statement As you go... roads under your feet, towards the new future is transitioning from a long-term research curatorial inquiry into a sustainable, autonomous, transnational, and multiplatform organization. Biljana Ciric conceived and initiated this project in 2019, and it has since developed into a network of organic research cells comprising independent art practitioners, small-scale organizations, state/private museums, and researchers from various fields. As you go… aims to generate alternative modes of working together that debunk the hierarchy of the artistic institution, encouraging creative interplays amidst the vast scope of cultural production and interdisciplinary research. The initiative has organized two encounters, the first in Addis Ababa and the other in Bor, a symposium, and provided support to numerous artists, collectives, and researchers. The transition to a sustainable, autonomous, transnational, and multiplatform organization is a significant step forward for As you go… and its partners. The organization will continue to connect and relate with localities on the margins and expand its network to like-minded individuals, communities, and institutions in various regions. As you go… will nurture art and research as political and solidarity practice within its organization members and beyond, using opacity and visibility as active choices. As you go… transnational organization funding partner cells include: Biljana Ciric , What Could Should Curating Do, Belgrade Larys Frogier , OW Ocean & Wavz, Paris Aigerim Kapar , Artcom Platform, Almaty/Astana Jelica Jovanovic, Belgrade/Vienna Sinkneh Eshetu , Fruitycity Children’s World, Addis Ababa Among our other activities and platforms that we use to connect to and engage with artists, art institutions, and the public, we will continue our online journal. As a journal, we are committed to supporting initiatives that challenge the usual definition of curatorial practice and academic research and aim to generate alternative modes of working together. We believe that As you go… has the potential to make a significant contribution to contemporary arts and humanities by fostering collective and critical learning, building a sense of intimacy, and amplifying unheard voices of shared struggles within different contexts. As you go… member cells in different parts of the globe commit to continuing to contribute to our journal, sharing their personal as well as institutional experiences and learning, as they act within their local contexts with a shared vision as an organic unit. We also encourage and welcome contributions from individual and institutional partners of As you go… to lend impetus to our shared goal of playing constructive roles in contemporary arts and humanities through channeling unheard voices and ‘quoting from the margins’. As you go… funding partner cells will also serve as members of the online journal editorial board. Written by Sinkneh Eshetu April 2023 Addis Ababa Stories from the Room – Conversation A disturbing Chinese dream: scattered thoughts on the cultures of involution and art institution in China Shore Seeing Stillness Non-Alignment Summit Anniversary a difficulty to re-member Seeing the invisi ble The cultural interweaving of China and the Balkans: A textural understanding of artistic exchanges under the Bri < Activities Curatorial Inquiries Projects >

Educational Program Lecture Series Participant Activities Educational Program WHAT COULD/SHOULD CURATING DO?—WCSCD was initiated in 2018 in Belgrade as an educational platform focused around notions of the curatorial and is a registered civic association. WCSCD’s education program has been run on an annual basis every year since 2018. Till 2022 it was organized as a three-month program for practitioners situated in Belgrade. From 2023 program is organized as biennial working with program participants over longer period of time. Our participants were young practitioners from different parts of the world including the Balkans, EU, Asia, Central Asia, Russia and Latin America making it a unique program in Europe. WCSCD educational program has been learning through recent years to think what kind of citation could actively produce.Through carefully created mentorship program we are committed to think and practice what kind of knowledge we consider worth and how it gets prioritized creating new citations from the margins. [1] [1] Sara Ahmed, “White Men,” Feminist Killjoys Blog, November 4 2014, www.feministkilljoys.com/2014/11/04/white-men < Mentors Educational Program Menu >

< Back BOR 28 June 2020 Hu Yun It’s been only a bit over a year since I visited Bor, a Serbian town for the first time. However, the global outbreak of the virus for the past few months has redefined my perception of “time”. Sitting by my desk in the southern hemisphere as I try to write something down about my several short visits to Bor during last year, I feel like I’m describing a trip during which I’ve constantly moved in and out of the same dream. My first visit to Bor was a 2 days trip occurred in February 2019, right after I have learned about several Chinese investments in the Balkans as parts of Belt and Road Initiative [1] . The reason for choosing Bor issimply that I have never been to a mining field, and as a Chinese, I am very curious about the Belt and Road project, which has become one of the hottest topics globally, but at the same time so little information can be traced domestically. Therefore, I chose Bor as a study case, to follow the coming changes of the city and its surrounding area. Throughout the year 2019, I have made another two visits to the place, which I am going to write about in the coming texts, all together making a series of ongoing field notes published by the As you go… journal. Infection (a drawing based on the map of Bor 2020), ink on paper, Hu Yun, 2020 I Public Square Departing from Belgrade, it was a 3.5-hour journey towards the southeast by coach. The road was flat most of the time, and scenery along the way was dull enough to hypnotize people. But before we reached the border of Bor, the coach had to cross over several mountains, which shook up the few passengers on board. My companion, K, is a Belgrade-based curator who is from Bor. As it wasn’t completely dark when we got off the coach, K took me to a mining pit nearby. It was the first open-air copper mine extracted on a large scale in Bor at the beginning of the 20th century [2] . As mine extraction gradually expanded towards surrounding areas and went underground, the pit is no longer in use, and has been gradually backfilled by tailings from surrounding mining areas. Adjacent to the south side of the pit, there were arrays of houses, most of which were built while the mine was first extracted. The houses, together with whole mining area, as well as the town of Bor that took shape afterwards, were all planned and constructed by a French mining company back in 1904. The matchmaker who facilitated all these to happen was George Weifert [3] , whose portrait is on the banknote of 1,000 Serbian dinars (and the main road connecting the mining area and the downtown is also named after him). The term of the lease signed with the French lasted 99 years. Known as “Tilva Roš” (In Vlachian [4] it means The Red Hill ) by the locals, the area was home to red hills rich in minerals, which could still be seen in colour photos taken in the 1940s. However, after one hundred years of extraction, not only were the red hills removed but also a negative form of the hills was created out of thin air. The city of Bor, taking the mining area as a starting point, gradually expands southwards. K took me for a walk through the abandoned houses around the pit, so deftly as if she had a map of the place in mind. Looking around, there was no fence whatsoever around the vast pit. As long as you are bold enough, you can do as Stefan did at the beginning of the movie Tilva Roš [ 5] : to ride a skateboard all the way down to the bottom of the pit. K told me anyone who was born and raised in Bor, more or less would have some memory related to the pit. The north side of the pit was close to RTB mining area and there was even a sightseeing platform there. K didn’t quite remember in which year it was built. But the location used to be a major “gathering point”. Especially in summer, as long as there was no wind (sandstones blown up by the wind around the pit were formidable), people liked to go there to have some fun. Seen from the platform, the man-made landscape was indeed spectacular under the setting sun. What laid in between me and the town on the other side was the vast pit, or say, void. Whether scenes of the performing band at the abandoned house around the pit (which remained the same) in Good Luck [6] (Ben Russell, 2017) or those of the workers’ chorus shot beside it (where now the sightseeing platform is located) in Beli Beli Svet [7] (White White World, 2010), the city was always shown as if it was surrounded by a vast black hole, drawing people inside. If every modern city must have a public square, for Bor, that would be the pit – the void that connects everyone who lives here. Smoke The next day K’s father took the role of a guide. He worked at the cable factory (like almost all the other factories in the city, the cable factory was affiliated to RTB Group [8] , which after being taken over by Zijin Mining Group [9] was temporarily shut down, waiting for further arrangements from Zijin [10] ). And he was also a hunter. He tried to explain to me how things went on in the factory, and even brought me there. However, “hunter” seemed to me a more suitable description of him after the short time we spent together. Standing at a commanding height of the city early in the morning, one could take an overview over the entire Zeleni Bulevar (which is one of the few main streets running through north and south). The pit was still an overwhelming presence in the background. But what shocked me more this time was the massive clouds of white smoke that appeared from different parts of the city from time to time. “The mining areas run 24/7 and become the clock for Bor. No matter where you are, you’d hear the bell indicating (day/night) shifting of duty of the miners. As to these chimneys, the processing of ores [11] could be roughly deduced from the gases emitted from them at different locations. The whole process is quite a routine. On windy days, you can tell time by the smell of smoke without even looking up.” While he was talking, the hunter pointed to the different chimneys to explain to me the smelting process of copper. [12] He seemed extremely calm during the whole conversation. It was me, a visitor from one of the most polluted countries, who secretly regretted that I hadn’t brought a N95 mask [13] with me. I learned from Deana Jovanović’s article that “ Borski dim ” (Bor’s smoke) was a specialty of Bor [14] . Local friends of hers suggested that “one should light a cigarette to ‘wash off the lungs’ with the cigarette smoke, which she usually did if she encountered the smoke in the streets.” Like K’s family, all those who live in Bor have some kind connection with the mining area. RTB and its peripheral industries function as the only source of livelihood for most people there. Hence, the implications of “smog” [15] to this place are more complicated. Environmental issues have emerged in people’s conversations more frequently than before. But when Bor was initially established, and even today, “smog” remains an intuitive image of production / life ongoing. Forest The hunter suggested bringing me to take a look at the Bor River. Along the way we passed by the house of K’s grandma, which was located at a serene village no different from other Serbian villages I have visited, with a church in the center, surrounded by a school, a post and a Chinese cheap goods store. A brook beside the church merged into the Bor River not far away. We parked by the brook, and the hunter brought out a thermo jug from the trunk, pouring me a cup of herbal tea he brewed in the morning. It was high noon with the warm sunshine of early spring, the fragrance of the hot tea effectively drove my doziness away. Walking alongside the brook, apart from the herbal fragrance, I also smelt bursts of unnatural sourness. I took a closer look: a weird touch of peacock blue could be perceived from within the gurgling brook. As we approached the Bor River, we witnessed more unusual scenes. The hunter took me to a mire, where used to be his “pond” to catch wild ducks. There was indeed a pool of water here, but in unusually gorgeous color. By the side of it there were several branches continuously merging into the pond, which were in bright orange color. The middle part of the pond was in pure royal blue. And there were a few barren slopes nearby. It’s one of the disposal points of the tailings. As I’d guessed, it appeared in many sci-fi movies in the past few years. No single filter effect in my phone could create such a gorgeous palette. Appearing side by side with these “spectacles” were farmlands and village houses. We kept walking southward, and climbed up a hill. At this point, we were far far away from the pit at the north. The forests around were the hunting area for K’s father. Since about twenty years ago, mining and exploration companies from Canada and the Netherlands came to detect the area, certainly not only for copper. “They found several points of extraction in the forests, for gold.” The hunter pointed into the distance and said. Is this why Zijin took over RTB Mining Group? Will they further expand the extraction area in Bor? Will the forests disappear? Perhaps it was because of the heavy wind on top of the hill, neither of us talked anymore. (written by Hu Yun and translated by Wu Chenyun) Click to read Chinese version Hu Yun is an artist based in Melbourne. [1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belt_and_Road_Initiative [2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bor,_Serbia [3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C4%90or%C4%91e_Vajfert [4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vlachs [5] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tilva_ Roš [6] https://www.documenta14.de/en/artists/8548/ben-russell [7] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_White_World [8] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zijin_Bor_Copper [9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zijin_Mining [10] The final agreement was signed in December 2018 [11] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ore#:~:text=Ore%20is%20natural%20rock%20or,the%20valuable%20metals%20or%20minerals.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ore#:~:text=Ore%20is%20natural%20rock%20or,the%20valuable%20metals%20or%20minerals . [12] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smelting [13] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/N95_mask [14] Deana Jovanović (2016) Prosperous Pollutants: Bargaining with Risks and Forging Hopes in an Industrial Town in Eastern Serbia, Ethnos, 83:3, 489-504, DOI: 10.1080/00141844.2016.1169205 [15] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smog Previous Next

< Back History and stories from Lake Balkhash 15 Jan 2021 Aigerim Kapar Roads From the capital, the way to the city of Balkhash and its lake lies 600 km through the steppes of Central Kazakhstan and the uplands of Sary Arka ([the] Steppe and lakes of Northern Kazakhstan). Whenever I find myself in the Steppe, my imagination always starts to play. Like the hostage of an “epistemological gap”, I try to recall the cultural landscape of a rural space filled with herds of horses and sheep, yurt auls, and Arka songs – which though the home and birthplace of my grandmother, remains unfamiliar to me. Today Central Kazakhstan is an industrial belt, modernized by the colonial administration of the USSR. The pipes and mines of Temirtau, Karaganda, Dzhezkazgan, and Balkhash rise oddly above the steppes to smoke the “sky pastureland” of Tengri (the god of the sky in Turkic mythology). Central Kazakhstan, Temirtau city, photo by Aigerim Kapar An artist, Syrlybek Bekbotayev, and I visited Balkhash via a road known mainly to local residents. Running through the settlement of Aktogay, it lies in connection with the reconstruction of the main highway – intended to connect the new capital with Almaty by a high-speed autobahn, within the framework of the “Nurly Zhol” kazakh state Infrastructure Development Program, associated with the “New Silk Road” initiative of the Chinese government. We crossed the steppe following the course of the Tokyrau River, previously abundant and a significant contributor to the formation of Balkhash Lake in the 8th and 9th centuries. The deltas of the Tokyrau river from the northern coast, and the Ili river which originates in China from the south, meet to form an isthmus along which lie the routes of the ancient Silk Road (which integrated Eastern and Central Kazakhstan in trading systems, and nomadic cultures with the sedentary and agricultural South Kazakhstan). During the 11th-13th centuries, the water in the lake increased as a result of climatic and geological processes. The isthmus flooded and was divided into two parts by the Saryesik peninsula, forming the Uzyn Aral canal where the western half is fresh and shallow and the eastern half is deep and salty. This cut off the South Balkhash region from the North, and consequently disrupted trade routes. [1] Today, socio-economic and infrastructural relations in the region are limited to [the] military training grounds leased by the Russian Federation (8.6 million hectares, for $20 million USD) [2] , including the Sary-Shagan testing ground centered in Priozersk, which until 2010 was a closed military city. In 1928, a route beginning from Karkarly before moving along the Tokyrau stream, was followed by geological prospectors, led by soviet geologist Mikhail Rusakov (who discovered the Konyrat deposit), who later became the first builders of the copper smelter and the city of Balkhash in the 1930s. Taken over two weeks, this journey involving the transportation of construction materials and equipment on camels and horses, led to a strengthening of the Russian Empire. Memories of one of the explorers who made their way to Konyrat, saw a tablet with a message left by their colleagues near the sacred mountain Bektau Ata: “Compatriots! No more water, no grass! Go back! Otherwise, you will disappear with the cattle you have!” [3] This is often cited as evidence of the lifelessness of the territory and the severity of the conditions in which the builders of communism performed their feat. It is not surprising that it is difficult for an uninformed person in the Steppe to find water, especially in a dry, hot summer, since the Northern Balkhash region was a wintering place for the tribes of the Middle Zhuz (the Kazakh tribal system), and in the summer season, they would migrate north to summer pastures. History Lake Balkhash is 35,000 years old. Shaped like a crescent, it is surrounded by the Saryarka, Dzhungarian Alatau, and Tarbagatai ridges. The inner western region stretches to the Betpak-dala desert (named the “hungry steppe” by Russian royal colonial researchers at the end of the 19th century). Balkhash is an endless reservoir, with 80 percent of the water coming from the Ili River, which begins in China (Ili-Kazakh Autonomous Region of Xinjiang). There is a rich history around the lake, always being a place of attraction, as evidenced by archaeological sites, rock paintings, ancient settlements and medieval cities. “Entire medieval urban complex of Northern Tienshan (1-20th AD): settlement location, size and type”, image Renato Sala [4] The first mentions of Balkash Lake were found in Chinese written sources dating back to 126 BC, where it is called “Si Hai” – the Western Sea. It [also] had [a] fixed Dzungarian name: “Balkhash-Nor”, of the nomadic Oirat tribes (who were of Mongolian origin) who lived south of the lake. In the fertile delta of the Ili River, the Dzungars (among other [living] things) were engaged in flood agriculture, mainly growing wheat and building irrigation systems. It wasn’t until the Dzungar Khanate was finally defeated by the Qing Empire in the 18th century, that the Oirats were exterminated and dissolved as a state union. The territory of the Khanate was subsequently divided between the Qing and Russian Empires, and the Kazakh tribes returned to the remainder of the deserted territories. 100 years ago, nomadic and semi-nomadic cattle breeding were the primary and traditional types of farming. The tribes who inhabited these vast territories – of harsh climates and drought-ridden landscapes – moved with herds of animals, developing the only possible type of activity and lifestyle which would continue to take shape over the coming centuries. Alongside adapting to the ecosystem, they also developed their own economy, traditions, culture, and collective memory, shaped by a co-dependency with nature. The history of metallurgical activity in this region also goes back thousands of years. Since the early Bronze Age, Nomadic tribes possessed “primitive” technologies for smelting ore in such a way where the ore – rich in non-ferrous precious metals – would often be laid out on the surface. For several centuries, neighboring nomadic tribes of Kazakhs and Dzungars had disputes over pastures, territories, and resources but they did not carry a purposeful destructive character – contrary to how it may have otherwise been presented in the history of Kazakhstan, which was written during the Soviet period. [5] The demonization of the Kazakh-Dzhungar relations was beneficial to the historians of the Russian Empire and the USSR, justifying the colonization of the Kazakh steppes as protection from the Dzungar raids, calling it a “voluntary annexation” of Kazakhstan to Russia. In our meeting, historian and researcher at the Balkhash Museum of Local History, Daulet Kozhakhmetov, said: “we are indebted to the Dzungarian people, that at the cost of their lives, a buffer was created against Chinese aggression.” Modernization The Soviet policies for the development and modernization of the steppe and desert expanses of Central Asia were based on an intensive exploitation of natural and human resources; and a disregard for Indigenous traditions and ways of life, the environment, and ecology, all the while armed with the slogan: “man will conquer nature!”. The dark side of this modernity was quick to appear to the Kazakh people. The 1920-30s, characterised as a period of forced sedentarization, dispossession and resettlement of nomads, resulted in the creation of an artificial famine: “Asharshylyk”. It was also a period of time marked by a genocide in which almost 40% of the population died, and more than 1 million people migrated through China to Iran and Afghanistan. More than 12, 000 people left their native lands in the Balkhash region. As a result, the livestock population in the Ili-Balkhash basin reduced by 75%-100% – a dire situation for nomadic life where animal breeding was a critical source of support. Unused pastures degraded, which contributed to the desertification of a third of the territory in the Ili-Balkhash basin, and the continued disruption of its ecosystem. [6] Workers from all over the USSR were resettled in Kazakhstan to places of Indigenous people for the implementation of great economic plans (of five-year projects) – but as well as this, some of them were also deported and exiled to the camps of the Gulag system (Karlag, Balkhashlag, Steplag, etc.). Repressive colonial policies, irrational management, and misuse of natural resources led to both human and environmental tragedies. The Aral sea was drained over several decades, the river system was disrupted by anthropogenic interference, and the water was depleted for the irrigation of moisture-loving crops (namely cotton and rice, which are not suitable for cultivation in the arid climate of the steppe landscape of Central Asia). After 30 years of independence, governmental powers and economic systems have not yet been rebuilt. Kazakhstan continues to bear the burden of its raw material base, having its success measured against the formerly implemented five-year plans [of] exploiting the subsoil and insisting on forgetting pre-industrial period and culture. Syrlybek Bekbotayev, “Five-Year Plan”, 2019“Re-membering. Dialogues of Memories” Exhibition in memory of victims of political repression, curated by Aigerim Kapar. TSE art Destination, Astana, 2019. Photo by Zhanarbek Amankulov Balkhash Lake Along the shores of a picturesque lake, lit with glittering emerald water, the smoking chimneys of the Balkhash Mining and Metallurgy Plant create a surreal scene and evoke a sense of unease that such a unique corner of paradise continues to be extensively exploited and polluted. During the Soviet period, economic and industrial development, and the use of natural resources in the region, were carried out without considering the ecological capacity of the basin’s ecosystem. This was aggravated by the construction of artificial reservoirs and the Kapchagai hydroelectric power station built on the Ili River in 1967, which has been filling the basin for over 20 years. According to the resolution of the International Forum Balkhash held in Almaty in 2000, the situation of the Ili-Balkhash basin was recognized as critical due to the unstable water levels – a key indicator of the basin’s ecosystem. [7] As a result of the II International Forum “Balkhash-2005”, [an] Alakol Basin Inspection was established to regulate the use and protection of water resources. Lake Balkhash, photo by Aigerim Kapar Today, Lake Balkhash remains devoid of state care or any global environmental programs to save its ecosystem, and the lake and basin are left in a state of ecological and socio-economic disaster. A quiet tragedy, unfortunately, does not arouse attentive interest nor the adoption of effective measures that may prevent a repetition of the tragedy of the Aral Sea. Modern industrial, infrastructural, and economic programs – in particular, the program of OBOR and Nurly Zhol – (just like during the socialist regime of the USSR) don’t take into account the ecological burden on the environment in the region. These programs don’t consider resolving issues of transboundary rivers, water security, or access to water for local communities as a guarantee of sustainable development for the region or the success of the implementation of long-term plans and cooperation. According to the McKinsey expert group, by 2045 Lake Balkhash may lose up to 86% of its water. [8] The threat of an environmental catastrophe is mainly attributed to the growth of economic affairs, climate change (resulting in the melting of glaciers), and industrial pollution. In the columbine area of the Ili River basin, China is cultivated by [the] irrigation of 1 million hectares of cotton. Water reservoirs have been built and hydroelectric power plants are operating, and an increase in water intake by 10-15% threatens to lower the water level in the lake to a critical condition. Within the region that lies in Kazakhstan, more than 90% of water resources are used for irrigated agriculture, mainly for growing rice and cotton, continuing the USSR’s methods of extensive production and capitalisation without any considerations to the land and the environment. Of these exploited water resources, 60-70% of which is inefficiently used and seeps into the sands through outdated irrigation systems. The main industrial environmental pollutant in the region is the Balkhash copper smelter, built on the lake shore in 1938, 10 kilometers from the Konyrat mine, which became the backbone enterprise of the Balkhash city. Checkpoint of the Balkhash copper smelter. Banner caption: “Let’s build the future together!” Photo by Syrlybek Bekbotayev Today it belongs to the Kazakhmys Smelting Corporation. According to official data for 2018, the harmful emissions into the atmosphere amounted to 72,899 tons – for which the company pays to the state budget of 3,083,699 KZT per year. [9] In settling on the surface of the lake, toxic substances penetrate the water. The indicators of heavy metals in the water grow each year and exceed permissible standards, negatively affecting the biodiversity of flora and fauna. Anthropogenic interference has also affected the species composition of the lake’s fish, where endemic species lie on the verge of extinction, and fisheries are in crisis. We met with researchers from the Committee of the Research and Production Center for Fisheries in Balkhash, who monitor the rational use and reproduction of fish stocks, and issue annual forecasts of fish catch volumes. The committee is also looking for new opportunities for the preservation and development of fisheries, but their activities are limited by financial and other resources. Gas emissions of the city-forming enterprise are a great sore spot and the most difficult problem for the townspeople, city administration and the plant – a situation which has not been resolved for several decades. [However], Rymkul Belyalovna, a local ecologist who has worked for many years in the department for the protection of natural resources, spoke of a (far from perfect) system for assessing material damage and paying compensation for atmospheric emissions to the residents, in the case of complaints. Pipes of a copper smelter and thermal power plant, Balkhash city. Photo by Syrlybek Bekbotayev. In September, plant workers posted a video on social media showing faulty pipe filters which elicited a great public resonance. The plant was only fined 1,000,000 tenge – by comparison, a beauty salon that violated quarantine work restrictions was fined 600,000 tenge. [10] In news from Balkhash – which also currently holds the status of being the most polluted city in Kazakhstan – plans of the local authorities to develop the tourist potential of the lake, without eliminating the source of pollution, are seen as difficult to implement. Alongside this, the Ministry of Ecology launched a project for a roadmap of environmental problems in the Karaganda region this year, which plans to reduce emissions of harmful substances and modernize mining enterprises in the region. “This is my city, my combine, my factory” We received a dedication to the gas of a copper smelter upon [our] arrival late in the evening. On that day, the wind blowing from the direction of the plant was especially felt in the air. Aizat, our hospitable guide through the city and its senses, and a student of the Kazakh language and literature, says that her mother is kidding: “nevertheless this gas kills all harmful germs in the body”. Bertys bay, view of the city of Balkhash. Photo by Syrlybek Bekbotayev. Geologist Mikhail Rusakov received an award for the discovery of “blue hill” [11] a trip to the USA to study new technologies in the mining industry. Upon arrival, he was sentenced to 25 years in a prison camp under espionage charges. After 5 years he was rehabilitated and returned to Balkhash, where he discovered several more deposits. The town of Balkhash grew out of the workers’ village in Bertys Bay (as One tooth), fuelling the industrial development of the Konyrat mine since 1930. The mine was developed by the labor of workers from all over the USSR. The city was built by the forces of prisoners of camps and Japanese prisoners of war. The policy of the Soviets forced the nomads, who were left without resources to sustain their own livelihoods, to be hired in industrial enterprises. My grandfather’s family from the Madeniet (Culture) auyl of Northern Kazakhstan were forced to work through severe hunger while working at the factories of Magnitogorsk. Palace of Culture of Metallurgists named after Magaui Khamzin on Lenin Street. Photo by Syrlybek Bekbotayev. After 90 years, mining at Konyrat has finally stopped. The “blue hill” disappeared and became a gaping crater – a model of which can be viewed in the local history museum of Balkhash, where in its halls of exposition, the entire history of Kazakhstan is presented in an attempt to revise itself from a decolonial position – though this position barely touches the history of the factory or the construction of the city. Model of the Konyrat mine, Balkhash Local History Museum. Photo by Aigerim Kapar Soviet propaganda and its methods have been minimally criticized or rethought, and so continue to manifest themselves on the city streets and public spaces. It is not enough to replace monuments on pedestals and rename streets to create a “new” history and future. Monument to Agybai batyr (1802-1885), Independence Square. Photo by Syrlybek Bekbotayev In his book “The Pride of Balkhash” (2010), historian and factory veteran, Sovet Kaukerbekuly, denotes his belonging to the place with the words: “This is my city, my factory, my combine”, effectively omitting the lake and its importance in the context of the city. Rather, the stories, hopes, and destinies of the people who built the “bright future” are what is woven around the plant. Today Lake Balkhash remains “invisible”. Its physical scale is not proportionate with the space occupied in the minds of people, the cultural landscape, public agenda, or the policy of the authorities, despite its value for the entire ecosystem of the region, the country, not to mention, the planet. Sadly nothing alarmingly new, this sentiment is a general reflection of the alienation of man from nature in the Anthropocene epoch, and his attitude and interaction with the environment. Aigerim Kapar, Almaty 2020 Aigerim Kapar is an independent curator, cultural activist, founder of the creative communication platform «Artcom» . [1] Stasiv Igor, “On the origin of Lake Balkhash and the Balkhash-Alakol depression”, 2018 http://sci-article.ru/stat.php?i=1523036452 [2] Dinara Kuatova, “8.6 million hectares of land leases for military training grounds Kazakhstan”, 2019 https://inbusiness.kz/ru/news/8-6-mln-ga-zemli-sdaet-v-arendu-pod-voennye-poligony-kazahstan [3] Sovet Kaukerbekuly, “The Pride of the Balkhash”, Karaganda, 2010, p. 38 [4] Renato Sala “The medieval urbanization of Semirechye”, 2010 https://www.chikyu.ac.jp/ilipro/page/18-publication/workshop-book/workshop-book_individual%20files/2-1_Aubekerov.pdf [5] Radik Temirgaliev “Dzungars in the history of Kazakhstan”, 2007 https://zonakz.net/2007/03/26/джунгары-в-истории-казахстана/ [6] Zhuldyzbek Abylkhozhin, “Study of the ecology of the Ili-Balkhash Region in the Soviet Period”, 2010 [7] The International Ecological Forum “Balkhash-2000”, http://kazneb.kz/bookView/view/?brId=1169574 [8] Dr. Bulat K. Yessekin,“Ecosystem management in Balkhash Lake basin as a model of SDG localization in Kazakhstan and Central Asia region, 2020 https://www.es-partnership.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Ecosystem-approach-in-Balkhash-Lake-basin-Kazakhstan-China-002.pdf [9] Unified ecological resource of the Ministry of Ecology, Geology and Natural Resources, Kazakhmys Smelting LLP Balkhash Copper Smelter, 2018 http://prtr.ecogosfond.kz/2019/12/04/too-kazakhmys-smelting-balhashskij-medeplavilnyj-zavod/ [10] Balkhash Copper Smelter was fined one million tenge https://24.kz/ru/news/social/item/426189-balkhashskij-medeplavilnyj-zavod-oshtrafovali-na-million-tenge [11] Sovet Kaukerbekuly, “The Pride of the Balkhash”, Karaganda, 2010, p. 40 Previous Next

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities The WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet: Expanding the Conversation Around Salaries in the Arts Earlier this year, a spreadsheet originating in the USA was circulated within the international arts community detailing the salaries of various roles at museums, galleries and other arts institutions, and with a request for arts workers to add anonymous details of their own salaries to the spreadsheet. At the time of writing, that spreadsheet now contains over 3200 entries, the majority of which are from the USA, but also other countries such as Canada, the UK, Germany, Switzerland and Mexico. The accuracy of the data is unclear as contributors are anonymous and are encouraged to share as much or as little as they are comfortable with the purpose of the spreadsheet, titled Arts + All Museums Salary Transparency 2019 , is to bring an unprecedented level of transparency to the arts in terms of pay and to open up a dialogue between arts workers, with the hope of bringing about positive change in what is, traditionally, a relatively low-paid industry. At WCSCD 2019 we saw the importance of such a dialogue and discussed salaries with many of the curators and arts workers we met during the program, ultimately creating our own anonymous salary spreadsheet. The WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet includes salary information for a number of countries not currently found in the original spreadsheet or only mentioned a very small number of times, such as Serbia, Russia, China, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyz Republic, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Slovenia. It also includes information about general average and minimum salaries in each of the countries listed in order to illustrate how the salaries of arts workers compare to general salaries. In what is unlikely to come as a surprise to those who work in the arts, the WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet suggests that arts salaries often fail to reach average salaries and, in a number of countries, struggle to even meet recognised minimum standards. Discussions about salaries during the WCSCD program also uncovered other issues, including the lack of written agreements between funders and curators regarding curatorial fees, non-payment of agreed curatorial fees, and changes being made to the funding of projects without notifying curators in advance. The more that discussions around salaries and working conditions become the norm, the better it will be for arts workers. As Michelle Millar Fisher, an assistant curator in the European decorative arts and design department of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and one of the people who started the original spreadsheet, said: “If you don’t do it, everything stays the same. Sometimes it takes just one tiny action. Solidarity is the only way to affect great change.” text by Shasta Stevic WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet