TEXTE ZUR KUNST: Would you mind sharing your origin story with us? How did you come together, how do you define your practice or its material effects (the Guerrilla Girls, for example, created what can arguably be characterized as autonomous artworks), and why did you choose this particular structure – the anonymous collective? We figure that it has a lot to do with the existing power structures of the art world, which make it difficult or (seemingly) impossible to speak up as an individual.

SOUP DU JOUR: In September 2018, a loosely organized group of feminists came together to write an open letter in response to an exhibition at the NRW-Forum in Düsseldorf. Although the relevant exhibition was promoted as “international,” the numerous participants that it featured were almost exclusively white. Only a single woman was included. [1] The ensuing public debate – along with the support that the open letter garnered (via over a thousand signatories) – motivated those involved to consider organizing more effectively. We consequently met in Berlin in early 2019 and founded Soup du Jour. As a collective, we’re united above all by the desire to see change in cultural institutions. We believe in the power of solidarity and in the transformative potential of collective action. We choose to remain anonymous because we want people to pay attention to what we have to say, rather than focusing on who we are as individuals. If we didn’t insist on collectivity, our shared labor would quickly be eclipsed by the public personae of a few individuals. We’re invested in critiquing established hierarchies of visibility, rather than reproducing them. When it comes to taking public action, our anonymity obviously restricts us to some degree. As such, we’ve tended to use social media as our primary mode of communication. Despite all their weaknesses and problems, online platforms afford space to voices that might otherwise be ignored by – or marginalized in – traditional media that often have more cultural legitimacy ascribed to them. From an activist perspective, social media platforms additionally offer the advantage of accessible, spontaneous, and fast-moving communication. There is a common tendency within art theoretical discourse to view online platforms as having a lesser capacity than print media when it comes to generating substantial content. We beg to differ. We view online platforms as having an integral relationship to lived reality, as well as the potential to directly influence political circumstances. After all, not everyone reads Artforum or TEXTE ZUR KUNST.

TZK: When did you first engage with the allegations against Johann König and what made you decide to voice your views publicly?

SDJ: Answering your question too precisely could get us into hot water, as we’re not legally permitted to mention the specific incident that first drew our collective attention to the case. For us, the question was never whether we wanted to speak out or not, but rather about figuring out how we might be able to speak out at all. In Germany, the presumption of innocence isn’t just a legal principle that is applied in the courtroom; it also plays a key role in determining whether and how allegations are able to surface in public discourse. [2] When an accused party has the financial means to retain high-powered legal representation, it can be virtually impossible to speak about a specific case publicly prior to a criminal conviction. [3] Unless, of course, one is willing to risk considerable financial repercussions. In the end, the article that appeared in Die Zeit [4] provided us with an opportunity to engage more concretely with the case in public, by citing the article and making reference to the journalists’ investigation. Journalists benefit from the exceptional legal prerogative of being permitted to protect the anonymity of their sources. [5] As such, under particular circumstances, rigorously researched articles can be published even when all sources remain anonymous, even if the hurdles for publishing such reports remain high. Our position was and still is to believe the women in question (who, incidentally, spoke to the journalists independently of one other). Statistics indicate that false allegations of abuse of power and/or sexual misconduct are so rare as to be virtually negligible. [6] Most people remain silent when confronted with abuse of power: for fear of retaliation and public exposure, to avoid violent backlash and re-traumatization, for lack of adequate financial resources, in order to protect their livelihoods and personal relationships and, tragically, because womxn and others impacted by abuse of power and/or sexual violence have in the past rarely been believed when they took the risk of openly sharing their stories.

TZK: Would you be willing to disclose your relationship with those affected by the case of Johann König? Are you in contact with them, have you gotten any feedback from them?

SDJ: Beyond the reasons already mentioned, it’s important to us – not only in this context – to avoid disclosing information that people have shared with us in confidence. We’re committed to safeguarding not only our own anonymity, but also the anonymity of others.

TZK: In the weeks following Die Zeit’s publication of the allegations against Johann König, you were very active on social media and closely followed which artists decided to leave the gallery. Eventually, in November 2022, you specifically addressed Monica Bonvicini and challenged her indecision. While some applauded you for upping the pressure and asking Bonvicini to follow through on her feminist stance with clear and transparent actions, others were taken aback by your approach, wondering, for example, why you did not target male artists represented by the gallerist. Would you mind sharing the reasons for your approach? In your open letter, you stress the importance of transparency. Would it have also been an option for you to approach Monica Bonvicini directly and then publish a joint or simultaneous statement, for example?

SDJ: We discussed this question at the time and made a point of addressing it in the public letter. [7] Taking a stance against abuse of power is, of course, a responsibility that all should share. That said, we had no reason to believe that certain individuals who have never publicly expressed solidarity with womxn, would suddenly be willing to do so in this case. While it is important to defend ideals, political interventions can only effectively contribute to meaningful transformation if they adopt strategies that are realistic. It’s not uncommon for activists to seek the support of like-minded people before attempting to engage others who have yet to express any interest in the change being sought. Monica Bonvicini’s body of work is strewn with feminist attitude, which is why we chose to address her as a potential ally. [8] Given that her position in regard to the allegations was unclear to us at that point, our letter invited her to offer clarity. Feminist messaging has, after all, been at the heart of her creative practice for many years. [9] It did not seem unreasonable to assume that the content of her work might have a bearing on how she chooses to exercise her considerable political agency within the structures that exhibit her work and represent her interests in the market. Aiming for transformation within the art context demands, in our opinion, the weighing of political gestures that are carried by works of art against how political agency is exercised outside the work. We find it cynical to imagine that purely symbolic gestures could ever suffice.

TZK: How do you counter the criticism that you are engaged in “feminist infighting” instead of working collectively and across differences to focus on fighting against male predators and bystanders? How have you responded to and engaged with such criticism when it was leveled at you?

SDJ: We never received a direct reply to our public letter. Bonvicini herself was unwilling to be in conversation with us, although she had several opportunities to do so. We did, however, take note of König Galerie’s announcement that it would be parting ways with the artist in an effort “to protect her” (to cite a post that appeared briefly on the gallery’s Instagram platform on 11 November 2022 and was subsequently deleted). [10] Building networks across difference – in order to tackle discriminatory structures in the art world – is at the core of our practice. Within such networks, it must remain possible for individuals to hold each other accountable in relation to the integrity of their actions. Social injustice is ultimately a product of conducive systems and contexts, rather than being reducible to isolated individuals. Considering and examining our personal entanglements in such contexts and systems is, we believe, a political practice that has deep roots in feminist thought and action. It is within discourse that we become aware of the agency that we possess within broader environments. It would be naïve, of course, to assume that all self-described feminists operate from within the same set of personal circumstances, have access to the same resources, are in pursuit of the same objectives, or share the same priorities in relation to feminist practice. Soup du Jour, for example, would never support or endorse feminisms that center the emancipation of white cis women in the Global North, or feminisms that strive for individual rather than collective empowerment. From the moment we came together, maintaining a healthy distance from white feminism was a clear priority. [11]

TZK: Would you say anything has changed in the art world in the wake of the #MeToo movement? Has progress been made in the fight for a more just and equitable art world? In your 2019 interview you state: “If you analyze the privileges of some white men, that’s dismissed as ‘identity politics.’ That pejorative language, which resorts to the rhetoric of the alt-right, is also used by those in German cultural life who actually define themselves as left-wing” [12] . That reads just as true today as it did then.

SDJ: The discourse around sexual violence and/or misconduct is certainly more present now than it has been in the past. Those impacted by abuse of power are less likely to quietly acquiesce. When it comes to the art world, however, the change achieved has been largely symbolic. There has been very little structural transformation within contemporary art institutions. Abuse of power flourishes within institutional structures that are characterized by significant internal inequities. Such inequities remain largely unchallenged in museums, within the art market, inside the studios of major artists, and in art schools and academia. Equally salient in this regard is that violations and abuses of power often take place in the absence of witnesses, which effectively makes most incidents impossible to prove. Incidents that have not been criminally prosecuted, as discussed earlier, struggle to find oxygen within public discourse. As a result, there is still a great deal of silence to be heard, but we are also witnessing a struggle to break this silence.

TZK: What are your current priorities in fighting for a more just and equitable art world? And who are you hoping will join your cause in solidarity? Is the König case still on your agenda?

SDJ: Our networks are continually expanding and growing in strength, given that fewer and fewer people are willing to look the other way when power is abused. We’re encouraged by the slow, yet inevitable, arrival of the #MeToo wave on the cultural shores of Germany. We’re closely following the public debates around Til Schweiger, Julian Reichelt, Till Lindemann and various other individuals who are currently confronted with allegations of abuse of power and/or sexual misconduct. But we remain focused on the systemic nature of abuse, as opposed to individual misconduct. Of course, in order to shine a light on structural problems, it’s sometimes necessary to provide concrete examples. Political work would be impossible if we were to completely avoid discussing actual incidents. In the past few years, we’ve spoken out about particular individuals only when we were convinced that doing so would serve to direct attention to the underlying power dynamics and power relations that aid and abet misconduct. Via the consistent highlighting of specific cases over time, it becomes clear that incidents which might at first seem isolated, actually add up to a systemic problem. We’ve noticed that it’s relatively easy to discuss systemic abuse in the abstract; to critically deplore structures in general terms. There is surprisingly broad consensus around structural critique of this kind. Once information becomes more concrete, however, the conversation shifts very fast – because addressing actual incidents leads to consequences and thus requires people to adopt a more explicit stance. In this regard, grappling with particular situations and individuals is indispensable in the throes of striving for political change.