Lyllian Lykiardopoulou, Assymetric endeavour, 2008, 350 × 230 × 140 cm. Courtesy of Qbox Gallery, Athens.

Jennifer Thatcher’s cover article ‘Dada Daddy’ in the recent issue of Art Monthly (May 2008) speaks of masculinity. Thatcher analyses the rise of masculinity, during the last decade, through books and university curriculum. Very logically she poses the question of how masculinity as a scholar’s subject could be in alignment with feminism when covering the same historical period. However vague and socially constructed, the notion of power is a masculine adjective. Confronting subject matter such as the one Lillian Lykiardopoulou deals with at her first solo show in Qbox gallery, one is bound to think of this term. The text accompanying the show, written by Sotirios Bahtsetzis, mentions that: ‘order and power relationships […] are two issues addressed […] ’ here. Looking at this subject matter from this point of view, a critical question arises. Through which stand could the ‘norm’ or rather, the ‘ruling order’, be criticised on its own? (By ‘ruling order’ I mean masculine domination, which is explained further down in the text).

Lykiardopoulou’s work, subtly but effectively, presents this question in a different, yet relevant way. And I dare to think, she attempts to answer it as well. The world of sports, a traditionally masculine space, and the stereotypes that relate to it, its order and power relationships, are all scrutinised through her group of works for this exhibition, entitled Loop Ahead.

It seems that the majority of her works choose to examine and question meanings, things, beliefs and all the power relationships that bind them together. This is very well portrayed through her found or constructed objects, such as the rubber bands forming a sculpture, or the sculpture Try Me, 2008, which is nothing more than a body-weight with black feathers stuck on it. In alignment, her titles express this enigmatic and slightly sarcastic view on power, dualities, normalities and so on. However, the ‘corps celèbre’ of this show is her installation Asymmetric Endeavour, 2008, through which Lykiardopoulou presents us with the absolute essential pair of power: weak versus strong.

This duality, examined through Michel Foucault’s analysis of power, underlines the psychological addiction between strong and weak. It is almost inevitable not to recognise the sexual ‘signs’ (linguistic signs, that is) involved in this, and to remember Foucault stating in his History of Sexuality that: “Power’s condition of possibility … must not be sought in the primary existence of a central point, in a unique source of sovereignty from which secondary and descendent forms would emanate … Power is everywhere; not because it embraces everything, but because it comes from everywhere.’ (Chapter 2, p. 93, Penguin Books, 1976).

In this general statement, one can include the more general ‘gender issue’ that Lykiardopoulou might possibly be tapping on, and not to correlate this dual opposite only with sexuality and its discourses, although there are many. Gender aspects that can be read here are simply evident in all that she examines, and instantly present themselves in the gender arena. The masculine/feminine readings here (gazelle/lion), (running track → sports → antagonism → masculine), (trophy, fur → feminine) and so on, are quite evident, yet under the eye of the beholder. The artist however, does not seem to consciously examine them.

Going back to Thatcher’s article, the author refers us to sociologist Pierre Bourdieu and his book, Masculine Domination, 1998. What is interesting is that she re-affirms that there is no doubt that Bourdieu’s analysis proves that: ‘masculine domination, in spite of significant victories for women over the past half century, is still utterly the ruling order’. If we look into the gender division, its only way for existence, is through state, religion, categorisation, normalisation and ultimately an imposition of power. What realm could be more appropriate for this mechanism to work in, than the duality of weak and strong? Isn’t that the basis of society?

These gender ‘issues’, very strongly related to core constructions and models through which society has functioned for eons now, are all addressed in this exhibition. Where Lykiardopoulou does not succeed, is to voice them more loudly. But I suspect that this was not her intention to begin with. She seems more focused on the irony which can arise between this opposite pair of weak/strong and its relation to power, rather than to categorise, specify or even accuse it.

What happens here is that through her work, the weak — in this case a gazelle — is standing audaciously on top of a lion’s skin rug and is therefore triumphant. The photograph accompanying the installation shows the gazelle wearing the lion skin, exactly like a winner should. The myth of David and Goliath comes into play, as well as the ancient Greek myth of Hercules (lion’s skin and all). The traditional role filled with power (the strong, the prevailing one, the hunter, the dominant) is now given to the weak. But, what kind of power are we talking about here? Is Lykiardopoulou re-enforcing the socially accepted and nurtured negative definition of power?

Foucault has persistently tried to alienate the negative in the term of power. The being that is becoming a subject can’t but be free in order to be subjected to power. It is quite difficult to actually think of this when looking at power through the realm of sports, imposition, antagonism, weaker versus stronger and so on. Nevertheless, walking around Lykiardopoulou’s exhibition, this ‘non-negative’ power is evident. Her sculpture One Liner, 2008, is a running track, made out of real tartan, which has a track for one person and can be enlarged according to space. Thus eliminating any idea of antagonism or imposition and pinpointing how futile they are.

Looking at Lykiardopoulou’s work from this point of view, I have ‘read’ in her work not simply a first-analysis presentation of those power structures, but actually saw her positioning herself and her work, in the place of both strong and weak, whilst referring to such dualities and questions as already visited in their non-socially accepted definitions.

Τhis is exactly what she manages to stress poignantly, her examination of how society perceives norms, and she does this not only through a humoristic point of view but also a revolutionary one. She mocks the power of imposition, reversing all predefined pairs and duals that have to do with society’s ‘negative’ view of power. Lykiardopoulou approaches them through this Foucauldian position and even attempts to question that. The whole idea of the suppressed (Is he really? And if not, why?), the weak, the strong, the normal (And again one must ask, is he really? And if not, why?) is re-arranged.

All these pairs, dualities, opposites, either looked at through a gendered or through a non-gendered aspect of power, have of course a lot to do with reality and how it can be entirely different depending on which side we are. Even the fact that she accompanies her installations/sculptures with drawings, is another way of portraying this antithesis. Her child-like naïf drawings with the ‘perfect’, almost real, objects that are not found but made one by one, inch by inch by the artist herself (she could have found a stuffed gazelle, she could have found a piece from a running track etc). She presents both sides, both realities, both views. By changing structures of power as well as its symbols, she voices what I believe is the most successfully articulated message in this work.

A game on power. How it can be all sorts of different things depending on where the artist and the work stand. It is coy, taunting and very alluring at the same time. Just like the concept of a gazelle standing on a lion’s skin.