69-12 
Susana Mendes Silva
       João Silvério: How  did this idea came to you within the context of the Coimbra University, where  we are currently holding, as part of the Ph.D. Course, a presentation (I  wouldn’t call it an exhibition) of the research carried out by each one of us?  How did you come to this idea you are going to present at Empty Cube?  
           Susana Mendes  Silva: As you know, my  Empty Cube idea had not been originally conceived for the premises of the  College of the Arts. It was meant for the concept of the cube itself. As soon  as I learned that the cube was going to be moved from Lisbon to Coimbra, I  inevitably had to come up with a few references and do some research on them. I  was put in mind, namely, of the academic crisis, and of the important historic  role played by the Coimbra University during the final years of the Estado Novo  regime. Indeed, that subject had been recently revived; after the death of José  Hermano Saraiva 1,  there was some discussion of the academic crisis. Yet, when people are discussing  the 25 April Revolution, that topic does not come up much: the importance of  those facts in the Portuguese context tends to be neglected.   
           JS: This, then,  in terms of your working process, marks a return to historic research – as I  mention in the short text I wrote for e-artnow.org –, an archival research that  is connected to a particular moment in history, but that historic moment seems  to resonate in the times we are currently living through. For that reason, I’d  like you to speak a little about the title    ‘69-12’.
           SMS: What really amazed me was that, when I started to  find images, the very first ones I saw – and that’s what grabbed me – struck me  as strangely contemporary; they were quite contemporary, it was almost as if  time had not passed. Hence the title, which may seem cryptic: ’69-12’, but it  refers to that time. I mean: these sentences show that from 1969 to the present  something should have happened and did not, and what did not happen was that  these sentences did not maintain their value as slogans. 
           JS: In a  certain way, that reminds me a bit of your work on the suffragists, for the  Commemorations of the Portuguese Republic: it remains perfectly current. Not  that there is a problem with suffrage, nowadays, but there is a problem regarding  the position of women, now as then. Does this make sense to you in terms of  process, bringing into the present certain facts, not only historical, but also  relating to a certain form of activism that seems once again necessary?  
           SMS: There are many sides to that. What interests me in  the work you call ‘archival’ is not so much the archive in itself as the action  of bringing things back to life, especially things that were erased or  forgotten, that are not given proper importance in history, and that work, I  think, is quite close to performance art. I mean, it is almost a performative  action to make these things live again, making them present by being said or  written once again. 
           JS: Just now,  you said ‘performative’, a term that seems to be employed all the time,  nowadays, but in your case is a bit like the main feature of your work. How do  you see the element of performativity, in close connection to the word, in the  evolution of your work? I believe this is your first action of this kind.    
           SMS: Yes and no, because action is more than just word-related  here. I mean, the cube’s space is full, the cube is inaccessible because it is  already filled with people, and these people tell us something and those things  people tell us, if you read the sentences, if we read those slogans, some of  them are quite straightforward messages but others almost look like poetic  lines, like the one on the picture: ‘continua o diálogo do  silêncio’ [the dialogue of silence continues]. If we do not know the reference  behind that sentence, its context, ‘the dialogue of silence continues’ will  nowadays seem like a pretty line someone might say. But, at the time, ‘the  dialogue of silence continues’ referred to the fact that the students could not  speak to the Minister of Education; there was no dialogue and, because of that,  things went pretty badly and he was discharged.   
           JS: In a  certain way, today there are also a number of political and social situations  in which a certain lack of dialogue is present, in spite of all the protest demonstrations.  Even though we live in an atmosphere of freedom, it seems that that ‘dialogue  of silence’ is still quite present, isn’t it?   
           SMS: Yes. And, at the  start, this idea of filling the cube with people was much more connected to the  history of performance art, but now it has taken on a political meaning that  was not there at the start. In other words,  it’s just as you’re saying: we are there, we may say things but perhaps nobody  cares about what we’re saying and, even if spaces are occupied, there is always  that difficulty between the will of the people and what is really happening  today, especially in Southern Europe. Now, anyway, and as you know, I am not interested in creating  propagandistic works. Nearly all my  pieces have a very strong, politically militant content, but people fail to  notice it because it is not obvious. You have mentioned my work on Adelaide  Cabete and Carolina Beatriz Ângelo 2,  and then on the early history of the Portuguese Republic, the ‘before’ and  ‘after’, all those people who were forgotten and only later remembered, through  Vasco Pulido Valente’s doctoral dissertation, for instance. There is a militant  side to this, in the sense that this must not be forgotten, this must come  back, because this is not just history, this is today.  
           JS: I would  call that less a militant than an interventive side: something that intervenes  not only in the viewer’s space, but on the very consciousness of each person  there. Probably, some will have no clear notion of what is going to happen,  while others will come because they understand the invitation made to them and  the kind of action that is going to take place. And that leads me to another  question. This is a quite unique project because it is limited to a single  event, something common in performance art, but, as a member of the audience,  how do you see your contribution to this project, which already has featured a  sizeable number of artists who have worked in many different ways? In other  words, how do you see Empty Cube in the frame of your work?  
           SMS: I have worked with a wide variety of spaces and, as  you know, I like being challenged to work in certain kinds of spaces that are,  I would not say necessarily ‘alternative’, but unexpected spaces in which  artists can also work. Nowadays, Empty  Cube is one of those very special spaces. And, in this case, Empty Cube is more than just its  space, being a space within another space – the College of the Arts, within the  Coimbra University… 
           JS: With all  that added symbolism they carry.  
           SMS: Precisely. That is why this is a special moment,  since at other times, if I remember rightly, the cube was housed within an art  space. 
           JS: Yes. Even when  the project went to Tomar, it was installed at the gallery of the Tomar  Polytechnic Institute. And here, it is a bit like the gallery of the College of  the Arts. 
           SMS: But it does not carry the same weight, and this is  not a criticism, it does not carry the same kind of weight, especially given  the type of room it is – and we even had the chance to discuss where to house  the project – I mean, it is a cube that is inside a room that is not cubic, but  nearly so, and which in turn is contained within all those structures, almost  like a tiny matrioshka doll, but there are many symbolic levels at work there, and  even the participants themselves are not just students. There are students, but  I’m also there, and there may be teachers, their relatives, children, friends  and all those people that may wish to come and take part in the event; all they  need to do is come dressed in black. We will all be there, dressed in black,  and we will fill that space with ourselves and those sentences.
           JS: That raises  two issues that strike me as interesting. The first is the issue of  localisation, and the way you localised the work made it become part of a  history, let us call it that, the history of Empty Cube. On the other hand,  there is the issue of the host spaces into which Empty Cube typically enters as  an intruder, and that subject undergoes here a deviation, I would call it a  particular deviation, which is the fact that the host space is now the  university, and that brings us back to the whole matter of what the university  stands for and symbolises. 
           SMS: As to that matter of it not being an intruder here, I  believe it also has to do with another characteristic of my work, the fact that  I am passionate about making my work – I don’t know if ‘site-specific’ defines  all this – I don’t know if that word will do, but I want to make it involve  itself…  
           JS: A more  appropriate term here would be ‘context-specific’.  
           SMS: Yes, but context is not the issue. 
           JS: No?
           SMS: It is true that the work itself gets involved. But  that term is a bit troublesome: while preparing my Ph.D. degree I came to the  conclusion that it was very hard to use, because it had a ‘bad karma’ and a bad  legacy. But I do have this interest, this passion of connecting myself to  people, to history, to places and making that project belong there – which is  terrible in commercial terms, because then things belong there and nowhere  else. But that ‘there’ does not belong in the site-specific tradition of the  late 1960s and early 1970s; I mean, nobody sent me an invitation, it’s not a  commission because I was not asked to do that…    
           JS: You are  being asked to take part in something, to develop a project.
           SMS: I am not being asked to do something for the  community. I’ve never worked with a community. Other artists are asked to do that. But that simply never happened to me. Yet, in some  way, things end up belonging there. They’ll belong to Coimbra, or, in the case  of my projects concerning Repórter X 3,  they belonged to the various places he travelled through, and then achieved an  online existence. 
           JS: Curiously,  and that shows my point, that kind of coincidence has allowed you to make an  exhibition in a gallery in a street named after… 
           SMS: Curiously, the name of the street has no connection  with the character. I mean, it both has and has not, and that is very  interesting. And then the project kept growing, because I had so much to  explore and everything was so interesting that the thing unfolded across Porto,  Guimarães and did not go further because I didn’t get the chance. I mean, the  project could have gone to mythical locations – like Russia, where Repórter X  supposedly wrote some articles, though it is not certain whether he was  actually there or not, Paris or London. But yes, that characteristic exists,  and once again it will be quite visible here. And if there are older people,  from my parents’ generation, perhaps it will make perfect sense to them, and  they will get it at once. However, since these sentences are so specific, there  is no real need for anyone to know or not the history behind them. Nothing whatsoever is being imposed on the visitors.  
           JS: That is  good because it also leaves things open, not only for those who know the  historic reference, but also for those who do not know it and those who may  wish to know it.  
           SMS: Exactly. That is the case with most works of art,  isn’t it? Sometimes, people fail to get them and reject them, simply because  they won’t open their minds a bit or because they’re not willing to… 
           JS: Or because  they are projecting something else on the work. 
           SMS: Or on what a work of art is. 
           JS: They may  even project on a work of art certain intimations, things that have no real  connection with what the artist did.  
           SMS: Of course.  
           JS: Thanks. 
           SMS: And good luck (laughs)!
           JS. Good luck!                    
       
         
             1
  Translator’s note: José Hermano  Saraiva (1919-2012) was a historian and jurist. As the Minister of Education  between 1968 and 1970, he was confronted with the 1969 Coimbra academic crisis. 
 
         
           2  Translator’s note: Adelaide Cabete (1867-1935)  and Carolina Beatriz Ângelo (1878-1911) were two medical doctors who were also  militant feminists and republicans. 
          
         
           3  Translator’s note: Repórter X was a pseudonym  used by journalist Reinaldo Ferreira (1897-1935).