Nothing's Shocking

“Of course, taboo stems from Pacific Islander cultures, so it has this other history.” This statement from conceptually- and historically-driven Australian artist Brook Andrew, who has curated an exhibition called Taboo for the MCA, reveals two important things about his approach.

First, the idea of the “other” – manifested here in the wide scope of artists and materials – everyone and everything from white South African artist Anton Kannemeyer's exploration of race and stereotypes in his cartoons, to a 19th century scientific slide of a slice of a virgin's hymen (the latter hinting at Andrew's own practice with archival material). He admits, “I was thinking more about doing something that as an artist, that I would do; not something that a curator would do, which is a big distinction.”

And second, the idea of “history” – an acknowledgement that taboos are shaped by cultures and change over time that has ensured the exhibition not only examines the taboos of today, but those of times past that undoubtedly informed current opinion. The trajectory of the notion of 'taboo' is an interesting one. In the Tongan tapu, or Fijian tabu, it was used to describe an action that was considered to be prohibited based on religious or moral grounds – sacred. The term has since been adapted, its associations morphed to include the kind of contemporary concerns Andrew mentions. Across cultures and histories, what binds this notion of 'taboo' is a constricting sense of silence; it is what a community or nation will not speak of, and that's what makes Andrew's Taboo – with its array of artworks, performances, talks and film screenings – so intriguing. It generates conversation about these issues.

Returning to the broad presentation of taboo in the exhibition, Andrew is cautious with his words. “This might sound pretty arrogant,” comes the disclaimer, “I don't know… I just think that in a Western society, in a First World society, [the society] can be so big that it kind of forgets about other histories or maybe, arguably, people who come to these societies just want the peace and quiet, they don't want the history; they don't want the heavy, the weight; they don't want to understand the accumulation of what is there.

“I think that it's important for us to own the history, to own the past, even if it's not our own,” continues Andrew, pointing again to the importance of the shifting nature of taboos. “And I think that we have a responsibility to understand humanity. Maybe that's asking too much? But I think the thing with Taboo is it offers that opportunity, and arguably, of course, it's through my eyes. I've curated the pieces, I've juxtaposed them together, I've created an environment for that, but people can make up their own mind. It also asks the question: are things that we think are taboo really that taboo? Are we really that shocked by it?”