On the same day that in Arnhem our king opened Sonsbeek 16, there was also a party around the Phoenixsee in Dortmund. Namely, Emscherkunst 2016 opened there, and for those who have never heard of it: it is the continuation of previous art events in the Ruhr region, the former industrial heart of Europe. I went there once myself, six years ago, and had mixed feelings: is investing in art really an appropriate method to save an area abandoned by the economy? Can the creative class single-handedly get a city's economy back on track, and most importantly, how do you ensure more wealthy residents who can serve local entrepreneurs as customers again?
Now, six years later, I was curious to see if the project had managed to make any progress. For the next hundred days, the art event moved to the upper reaches of the Emscher. The little river here is little more than a dead straight canalised stream, but because in the upper reaches the sewage has now been disconnected from the river, the water is clear and, in time, may even be drinkable. That is, if you can find the river.
After all, the restoration of nature in recent years has mainly created a lot of impenetrable scrub around the river, which is now allowed to attempt to meander freely in a green strip between motorways, noise barriers and old industrial buildings. High time, then, for two things: a cycle path and a few well-placed artworks along a total length of seventy-five kilometres from Dortmund-East to Dortmund-West. Or from the loaded art campsite of Ai Wei Wei via the wooden B&B 'Warten auf der Fluss' of the Dutch artist initiative Observatiorium to the Waste Water Fountain of the Danish artist group Superflex.
Somewhere near the start of the route you will find the Phoenixsee, and this lake has a special history. In fact, the recreational lake is the result of the excavation of the site of one of the Ruhr region's largest steelworks, the Phoenix. This many-hectare factory site was demolished in its entirety and relocated to China, where the ageing factory now serves as a regular employer again for the countless steel workers who do their heavy and dangerous work a lot cheaper than the Germans.
Now what remains is a lovely lake with marina, surrounded by a promenade and chic villas, which, as part of the necessary gentrification have been erected in the area. Those gentrification is thus so necessary because without rich inhabitants, the Ruhr will not recover economically at all. Hence the art. Now, gentrification is not really working out, there in Dortmund East. Many buildings are still empty and what is more striking: instead of rich, open-minded creative people with an eye for innovative culture, the residential area is filled with citizens of the more conservative kind. And that makes for interesting conflicts.
Logical too, because that is what happens when you let Erik van Lieshout have his way for six months on an uninhabited island in the new lake. This Brabant-based artist has made disruption his trademark, so you could wait for angry letters and actions to remove the cheerful chaotic artist from the island. It all started with a little monument he cobbled together for unnamed Berber warriors. 'Glorification of violence,' observed a passer-by, and the project was almost abandoned. Van Lieshout himself has since finished his work. The island has been neatly restored and we can watch his cinematic account in one of the vacant shop spaces by the lake. Hilarious, of course, but on its own just not enough to send you to Dortmund.
It is interesting, though, to see what art the citizens of Phoenixsee do want: hyper-realistic statues of a busty woman with wings, in silver, and a little further on, fresh-faced western children in an equally glorious pose on each other's shoulders, with a symbolic dove just rising from the hand of the one above. This work is the result of extensive surveys and conversations with local residents by artists Lucy and Jorge Orta: community art, but in a slightly terrifying form. This is what happens when you let citizens decide what art goes in their backyard.
At least that is what Massimo Bartolini thought, whose work 'Black Circle Square' at the Hochwasserrückhaltebecken is not yet finished, due to hassles with permits. In his explanation of the construction site, which is supposed to be a combination of a firewater reservoir and a sculpted version of Malevich's painting 'Black Circle', he went on a rant against the art of participation, which, in his view, could only lead to fascist megalomania. For abstraction, you need a broad mind, and that, according to the Italian, is lacking in the region.
I saw all these works at a preview, in the company of about thirty journalists. These thirty journalists were transported from work of art to work of art in buses, which repeatedly drove from place to place on the countless highways and motorways that criss-cross the Ruhr region. Long trips through the dull monotony of Germany's most urbanised area, between sound barriers and from non-descript neighbourhood to non-descript neighbourhood. And all because, of course, that whole Emscher area is just a strip two to three hundred metres wide. For a hundred years, this was a stinking sewer that you preferred to keep as far out of sight as possible. The challenge of turning this into an attractive river landscape is enormous.
However, cycling is going to provide relief. A cycle path has already been laid out along several stretches of the river course, and the organisers of Emscher Art are also providing loan bicycles for visitors. The trail is an important reason to really get out there. Because the Emscher has been left so undeveloped, you feel as if you are cycling through the countryside, while the big city is never more than a few dozen metres away. So only on a bike will you discover the value of that renaturalisation project, only on a bike can you truly marvel at the works of art.
The world awaits the leisurely pace of cycling, and where better to experience that than in an area almost turned into the Detroit of Europe?
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