Strani

16. maj 2011

Pogovor o fanzinih na festivalu Vrnitev 13. brata

Kolektiv 13. brat se je odločil prekiniti desetletno pavzo, ki je nastopila po zadnji številki fanzina 13. brat. V podobi webzina je ponovno oživel v digitalnem svetu. Ob tem novem začetku smo pripravili družabno poljudnoznanstveni dogodek, katerega namen pa je med drugim tudi zbiranje sredstev za delovanje portala 13. brat. Vstopnina bo namreč v celoti namenjena plačilu stroškov izdelave in vzdrževanja webzina.

Pred koncertom bo ob razstavi fanzinov in fotografij koncertnega dogajanja potekal pogovor nekdanjih ter sedanjih zinmejkerjev o vlogi in pomenu alternativnih medijev nekoč, danes in v prihodnosti. V sproščenem pogovoru bodo sodelovali avtorji in avtorice fanzinov Tea Hvala (Pssst …), Dejan Požegar (Jaywalk), Marko Rusjan (13. brat) in Simon Markič (D'Iks). K pogovoru je seveda vabljeno tudi poslušalstvo.

Za koncertni del prireditve bodo poskrbeli prijatelji 13. brata, ki želijo s svojim nastopom podpreti naše delovanje: sedaj že kultna zagrebška zasedba Analena, s svojim emocionalnim posthardkorom. Družbo jim bodo delali lokalni bendi Real Life Version (melodičen hardkor), Iamdisease (sludge metal hardkor), Hellcrawler (death'n'roll), The Hoax Program (roknrol hardkor) in Haron (alter post metal).

Program:
20.00: Pogovor o fanzinih, webzinih in ostalih medijskih marginalcih (galerija Tir)
21.00: Koncert (velika dvorana)
01.30: DJ Stardust (mala dvorana)
Vstopnina: 5 €

Sobota, 28. maj 2011 ob 20.00, Kulturni center Mostovna, Solkan (pri Novi Gorici, Cesta IX. korpusa 99A)

Predavanje in pogovor 'Težave s queerom v Ljubljani'

 Grafit na Roški cesti v Ljubljani (foto: Enči Brenči)

»Ne tlači me v (o)queer!«, odličen grafit aktivistične skupine Vstaja Lezbosov, je zajel celo mavrico lokalnih interpretacij tega izmuzljivega pojma, ki se povečini izključujejo. Kaj pomeni queer, če pink partizanke očitno nočejo, da jih kdorkoli tlači v njegov okvir? Mar ni bil queerovski aktivizem mišljen kot upor proti togemu in ozkemu razumevanju identitet? Kako in kdaj se je izrazito opozicijski koncept spremenil v lastno nasprotje? Zastavljajo se še druga vprašanja, recimo, v katerih kontekstih se pri nas pojavlja ta izmuzljiva tujka? Ali zastopa novo samoopredelitev, novo nevidnost (za LGBTI skupnost), življenjski slog, modno muho, novo politiko, posebno teoretsko metodo ali celo novo paradigmo? Menda ne vsega naštetega?

Skratka, odkar je tudi v Ljubljani v določenih krogih popularno trditi, da si queer, je iskanje politično spodbudnih odgovorov na omenjena vprašanja še posebej pomembno za lezbično in gejevsko skupnost, saj queerovska novotarija (zaenkrat) zadeva predvsem njo. Zakaj? Ker je ta skupnost, kot je leta 1997 na podlagi intervjujev z lezbijkami zaključila Suzana Tratnik, naš »alternativni dom«, iz njega pa so tudi v Ljubljani izključeni »tisti, ki niso 'v celoti drugi', a tudi 'ne povsem/zadostno naši'«; torej obrobneži, odpadniki, izobčenci ali, kot bi rekli Američani, queeri.
Na ta in podobna vprašanja bomo skušali odgovoriti s pomočjo Tee Hvala, sociologinje, ki je kontekste, v katerih se pojem queer pojavlja v Sloveniji, raziskala v eseju Težave s spolom, ki je bil objavljen v februarski številki revije Tribuna.

Vabljene, vabljeni! 

V sredo, 25. maja 2011 ob 20.00 v Klubu Tiffany (ŠKUC - Kulturni center Q).

1. maj 2011

Essay 'Queer Trouble in Ljubljana'

On Friday, April 29th 2011, I presented my essay Queer Trouble in Ljubljana at the Import – Export – Transport: Queer Theory, Queer Critique and Activism in Motion conference in Vienna. Below, you can read the abstract and introduction. The complete version is going to be published in 2012 by Zaglossus.

The essay was originally written in Slovene and published in two versions; the short one can be downloaded as PDF from Tribuna magazine (February 2011), the full-length can be read in Feminizam - politika jednakosti za sve anthology (ProFemina, Belgrade, 2011).


Queer Trouble in Ljubljana
 
Abstract
“Ne tlači me v (o)queer”, a graffiti on the streets of Ljubljana claimed “do not push me in a box” and “do not label me as queer”. It summarized an array of contradictory interpretations of the term queer that have appeared in the local academia, LGBTI media and LGTBI community in the last fifteen years. I analyze them in order to see how imported ideas about queer identity, queer politics and queer theory have been received, questioned and transformed by local knowledge production and practices.


Introduction 
People who do not participate in feminist or lesbian and gay (LGBTI) initiatives in Ljubljana but contribute to other political struggles often ask me what the meaning of the word queer is. Since they know I am co-organizing Rdeče zore (Red Dawns), a self-proclaimed feminist and queer festival, they expect me to know. It is a difficult question, I begin, and there are several answers, only some of which are politically encouraging. Then I quote “Ne tlači me v (o)queer,” a paradoxical graffiti written by Vstaja Lezbosov (The Insurrection of Lesbos) activist group in 2009. By claiming both “do not push me in a box” and “do not label me as queer” the slogan summarized an array of contradictory interpretations of the word queer that have appeared in the local academia, LGBT media and LGBTI community in the last fifteen years – in that order of appearance. The graffiti also suggested that ideas about queer identity, queer theory and queer politics have been significantly changed by local knowledge production and practices; changed in ways that bare no resemblance to the discourse of anti-assimilationist activists in the United States in the early 1990s. Since the term was adopted from literature about activism in the U.S. and brought to a completely different sociopolitical context, the change was expected. Less expected was its consequent refusal in large parts of Ljubljana's lesbian and gay movement. Indeed whom or what does the word queer represent today if young lesbian activists do not want to be “pushed” in its frame? In other words, how did this decisively oppositional concept turn into its own negation, into yet another constraining “box”?

In the U. S., queer activism formed within the LGBTI movement in response to the compromising politics of “homo-cons”. In order to reach their aims – gradually reduced to the demand for recognition of their “we're-just-like-you” normality – privileged members of the movement flirted with patriotic, militarist, racist, sexist and even homophobic politicians. In Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore's words, activist groups such as Gay Shame “sought to expose both the lie of a homogenous gay/queer ‘community’, and the ways in which the myth of community is used as a screen behind which gay people with power oppress others and get away with it” (Sycamore 2004: 272). Twenty years later, conservative voices can be heard in Slovenia as well even though the political differentiation of the movement happened in another context.

The lesbian and gay movement in Ljubljana began to form in the mid 1980s together with other civil rights movements, many of which – including the peace movement and the feminist movement – were institutionalized after Slovenia declared independence in 1991. The gradual pacification of struggle demanded by their sponsors (the state, Western foundations) did not affect the LGBTI movement to the same extent. Activists from the 1980s say that their insistence on autonomy, diversity and specific visibility was challenged later, in the late 1990s, when neoliberal capitalism and political conservatism began to show their sharpest teeth. As sexism and homophobia increased, some lesbian and gay groups invigorated their Leftist attacks on institutions of power while others, especially those that embraced identity politics as their only viewpoint, continued to seek legal recognition by those same institutions.

The term queer was introduced when the political differentiation of the movement began to take shape. It was met by curiosity, political analysis and historic memory. On the one hand, queer activism seemed to offer merely a new name for practices that were already present in the movement of the 1980s. As such, the term was superfluous. On the other hand, the introduction of queer theory coincided with the “cultural turn” in academia when recognition became the most important theme of feminist and LGBTI studies – studies that had only recently entered university programs. As such, queer theory was viewed with suspicion: it seemed to be yet another colonizing discourse, one that fit too nicely with the voluntarist ideology of neoliberal capitalism. The fact that queer activism advocated a further fragmentation of the relatively small movement confirmed, rather than rebutted that suspicion.

Of course, discursive colonization of local knowledge is only possible if there is nobody to counter it. If there is, the meaning of an imported concept is going to change. If it turns out to be politically harmful or inefficient, the concept can be altogether refused and abandoned – or used by those who profit from its inefficiency. In the words of feminist political theorist Lidija Radojević: “In Slovenia, the meaning of ‘queer’ […] is going to be defined by the people who are thinking about it” (Hvala 2010a: 71). So far, the term has been most often discussed in relation to gender identity or/and sexual orientation and in relation to a distinct lifestyle and club culture. Less often, it referred to academic research methods, contemporary artistic practices and political organizing. The obvious question is whether or not queer as a concept can be accommodated within all those frames of reference and if so, at what cost. I am not going to attempt to answer it as the focus of my essay lies elsewhere: I am going to look at a variety of interpretations in the LGBTI movement in order to see how the concept was adjusted to suit our needs.

(...)