​Amos Oz passed away this week, at age 79. Both a novelist and social/political essayist, he was probably the most pre-eminent advocate of a two-state solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict, and had a lasting impact on my views of Israel and Jewish identity since I first encountered his writing in about 1970; this was shortly after my first visit to Israel in 1968 with my family when I was but 13, after which I became quite focused on all things Israel. This was also the era of the rise of the PLO and the increased clarity that the conflict was not between Israel and “the Arabs,” but more specifically between Israel and the Palestinian people.
 
My own personal connection is that wrote reviews in the 1980’s and 1990’s of 6 of his books, mostly for the San Francisco Chronicle; I’ve now posted those to my website, here.
 
But my reflection upon his passing is that it feels symbolic of the passing of the possible achievement of peace via a two-state solution. I have always said that the two-state solution is the only possible “solution” – but this is no guarantee that it will be agreed to. As of now, it seems to have been killed by the maximalist nationalists on both sides, and on the Israeli side most notably by the political assassination murder of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in 1995 by a right wing Israeli nationalist. In this case, the assassin was successful, as this was a blow from which “the peace camp” never recovered. There is always debate about whether a line preventing a two-state solution has been crossed, but the continuing settlement activity of the Israelis makes a territorial compromise increasingly difficult and unlikely – so we are left with a de-facto one-state situation, which is only a guarantee of continuing conflict.
 
So, Oz completes his life with this task unfinished – but such is life, for all of us. But as long as we are alive, it is our choice to try to make things right. As written in the Talmud:
 
Rabbi Tarfon taught: “The day is short, the work is great…it is not your task to finish the work but neither are you free to exempt yourself from it.” (Ethics of the Fathers 2:15-16)

I was excited to be among the lucky few to be invited to the late March opening of “No Spectators: The Art of Burning Man” at the Renwick Gallery of the Smithsonian. I got the invite from my sister (the jeweler, Tzipora Hoynik), who was one of the artists whose work was selected to be included in the exhibit. I’m no artist, but I like to say I’m a purveyor of art, in that over the last eight years since by first Burn in 2010 I’ve bought and given away hundreds of Tzipora’s annually themed pendants as playa gifts, which are often treasured and worn for multiple years. I enjoyed seeing all the art up close and the opportunity to meet the artists whose work I’ve enjoyed over the years. Yes, it was odd to see it indoors, to know that the artcar has no drive train (too heavy for the floor) and the Temple is only decoration with no supporting structure (since it’s all attached to the walls of the museum)  – but it does give a taste of Burning Man despite the lack of playa dust and propane poofers. The three days I spent in the company of the artists along with their friends, family, supporters and BMorg representatives was fun – it was basically a great Artery party. I was happy for these artists – and Burning Man as a whole - to get greater recognition and perhaps help their careers because, you know, it’s not easy making a living as an artist!

I didn’t have a problem seeing the gift shop full of non-Burning Man themed items by a lot of these artists, and it seemed a little odd to also see books and photos of Burning Man art for sale (yet, I did buy a photo after a long discussion about commodification with the artist (Peter Ruprecht), who was donating his proceeds). But I got really queasy and upset at the floor to ceiling bookshelf full of “No Spectators” museum exhibition swag: water bottles, coffee mugs, t-shirts, shopping bags, etc. [SEE PHOTO] Pretty standard fare for museum exhibits, but the irony, even contradiction, of the name and the swag was just screaming at me!!! I appreciate that the BMorg worked hard to NOT allow the Burning man logo on any of this stuff, but this still seemed against the spirit of the very art and name of the exhibit! At first I thought of an ironic protest by buying a $30 water bottle and gifting it away on the playa (which would be unnoticed by anyone but me) or perhaps throwing the whole shelf full of crap onto the floor (which would have caused other problems). In the end, I opted to write this essay instead, about my mixed feelings upon seeing Burning Man – the event and it’s art – curated and Museum-ized.
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I tell people I go to Burning Man for the art. Not just to look and interact with it, but to help it come out to the playa – through donating to fundraisers and by helping out on various art crews. An integral part of Burning Man art is the process of building the art, which almost always includes a crew of people (unless you are talking about jewelry, patches, costumes, which can be individual efforts) for whom building art has been a community creating event. The experience of building the art is as important as the product itself, and the tradition of burning the art highlights the importance of process rather than goal. Join a crew, help build it, lend your skills, learn new skills, and maybe be inspired to have your own artistic vision- that is the School of Burning Man art. An important, and perhaps under-appreciated, element is the cross-fertilization that flows from this evolving community aspect, where people recombine into various groups to produce various art projects year after year after year – not because they are making any money but because it’s fun and meaningful to join with others in creating these projects. And this is even more the case with performance art than the plastic arts. This is where Communal Effort, Participation and Immediacy combine to produce the experience of “no spectators.”

But this community element was not shown at “No Spectators”. Some of the individual pieces were labeled as being by a particular crew/collective – such as Five Ton Crane Arts Collective and Foldhaus Art Collective – but even a lot of pieces identified as being by a particular artist – such as David Best – were produced by a crew, not by an individual. And, like at Burning Man, the crews were primarily voluntary, unlike the studios that build out commercial art to the designs of star artists. What’s special about this ecosystem is that it’s a continuous hands-on, open source, artist incubator community. This is the real heart of Burning Ban art. As long as hardly anyone is making money on this, there is a virtuous circle of volunteerism combined with seed money/donations/fundraising to make the art happen.

But I started to wonder: what are the knock-on effects and changing incentives of default world success? Are these 20 or so artists the best of Burning Man, and is there now an implicit status connected to whether you were shown at The Renwick? Because their work is now “recognized,” will these artists (and perhaps others) feel it is too valuable to bring art to the playa (and burn it?!) when they could maybe sell it in the default world? Of course, some artists have sold pieces before - but does it change the flavor of the event if artists and gallery owners descend on BRC as a step towards Art Basel, kind of like what happened to Sundance and Indie films? Will people still be willing to volunteer their time on an art project if someone else is going to make money on it?

And will the kind of art change? The inclination to showcase on the playa with an eye toward selling post-playa might only accelerate a change that has been noticeable over the last few years: the playa has become noticeably more blink-y and less burn-y at night, with more LEDs and less wood or propane flame. More “Tree of Tenere” and less “Burn Wall Street”. Artists and Burners in general are exploring LED technology as it gets so much cheaper. Maybe it’s more environmental and easier to clean up to use more plastic/metal/LEDs and burn less (post-burn LNT is a bitch!). But I feel like it’s one thing for art pieces to occasionally be sold and have a post-playa life and another if it becomes a regular expectation or goal that artists aspire to.

Ultimately, I come away feeling like the title, “No Spectators” is ironic, because once all the artists/Burners/makers left after the opening, all that remains at the Renwick are displays to view. Sure you can touch the art and some events with local Burners will take place, but it’s mainly about spectating, not making; preserving, not burning. When we look back from the future we might say that this was when the ““Burning Man” school of art was recognized by the “default” art world – something like the Expressionists or the Bauhaus. Indeed, some might add that this was also the point where Burning Man jumped the shark - Again? Finally?  Maybe…

And yet – it’s not a bad thing for Burning Man to transcend the playa and present an alternate vision of Communal Effort and Civic Responsibility in the default world. I mean what Burner hasn’t wanted defaultia to be more burnery? Especially a block from the White House…