What’s in a Name?
On Informal Labor, Misattribution, and the Vanishing Curator
by Darko Vukić
ENGLISH / SRPSKI / DEUTSCH
Background: Vienna’s Independent Art Scene and Informal Labor
Vienna boasts a vibrant “free scene” of independent art spaces – often called off-spaces, artist-run or project spaces – which operate outside the major museums and commercial galleries. As of 2022, an estimated 170 such spaces existed in Vienna alone, ranging from tiny studio galleries to nomadic initiatives. These independent venues have become an “unübersehbare Größe” (unmissable force) in the local art ecosystem, valued for their experimental programs and community-oriented approach. Crucially, most are organized as non-profit cultural associations run by artists or curators themselves.
However, the price of this freedom is often paid in labor. Those who found or manage independent spaces rarely draw a salary from it – “wer sich entscheidet, einen solchen unabhängigen Kunstraum zu betreiben, tut dies nicht, um davon zu leben, sondern aus Engagement und Idealismus” (whoever decides to run such an independent art space does not do it to make a living, but out of engagement and idealism) . In practice, this means countless hours of organizing exhibitions, managing venues, and promotion are done informally or voluntarily, alongside day jobs elsewhere. As one long-running space, New Jörg, noted, “wir haben daher fast immer ausschließlich ehrenamtlich gearbeitet” – they have “almost always worked on an entirely voluntary basis” . This unpaid labor is often justified by passion and artistic freedom, but it blurs the line between selfless commitment and self-exploitation. An Austrian cultural analysis bluntly asks: “Inwieweit rechtfertigt ein Projekt unbezahlte Arbeit? Welche Rolle spielt die Anerkennung als symbolische Entgeltung?” – To what extent can a project justify unpaid work, and is symbolic recognition a valid form of compensation? . These questions have become increasingly pressing as the independent scene gains prominence.
Financially, many off-spaces survive through shoestring budgets supplemented by modest public funding. The City of Vienna’s cultural department (MA7) and federal grants sometimes provide small operating subsidies or project funding, acknowledging the value of these grassroots initiatives. In fact, Vienna is somewhat unique internationally in supporting even very small, artist-run galleries with public funds, at least to cover basic costs . Since 2020 the city has even created an “Offspace-Preis” – an annual prize awarding €4,000 each to five outstanding independent spaces – signaling institutional recognition of their work. Yet such sums barely dent the workload: “Mit unserer Förderung zahlen wir die Miete… alles andere übernehmen wir selbst,” as one collective running Kluckyland described (with their grant they cover rent, “everything else we take care of ourselves”) . Volunteers and collective DIY efforts remain the backbone of these spaces . In short, precarious labor conditions are the norm, a fact increasingly under scrutiny in public cultural discourse.
The “Vanishing Curator”: Misattribution and Name-Use Without ConsentAgainst this backdrop of informal, behind-the-scenes work, a troubling phenomenon can occur – what we might call the “vanishing curator.” This refers to cases where curatorial or organizational labor in an art project is not properly credited, or where someone’s name is invoked in an art context without their consent. In independent art circles, where roles are often fluid and documentation less stringent than in big institutions, the potential for misattribution is high. A curator who poured unpaid hours into coordinating an exhibition might find their name omitted from the final program (vanishing from the narrative), or conversely, an initiative might list an individual’s name without approval – for instance, to appear more prestigious or to meet funding criteria – effectively using a name “in vain.” Both scenarios erode trust and raise ethical red flags regarding consent and labor recognition.
A documented case in Vienna’s scene occurred in late 2023, illustrating how seriously the community takes name-related ethics. The independent art platform Improper Walls had collaborated on a contribution to Über das Neue, an exhibition at Belvedere 21 (a major institution) showcasing “Viennese scenes.” The piece, created by artists Joanna Zabielska, Zosia Hołubowska, and Alma Bektas with Improper Walls, included a wall text – a dedication of a poem to two real individuals, “Firas from Palestine and Ali from Lebanon,” who were refugees inspiring the work . During the exhibition’s install, the museum’s curatorial team removed this dedication from the wall without the artists’ knowledge or consent, literally erasing the names and identities of those two people from the exhibit . This unilateral act of censorship (justified by the institution initially on unspecified grounds) exemplified “name-use” issues in reverse – not attributing, but deleting a name without permission. The reaction was swift and public: Improper Walls withdrew their curatorial contribution from the show in protest, and an open letter titled “Art Community Against Censorship” circulated, garnering widespread support . The open letter condemned the museum for censoring the names and altering the artwork without involving its creators, framing it as an abuse of institutional power that disrespected the artists’ intent and the voices of the refugees being acknowledged. The incident highlighted how even a well-intended name mention (in this case to honor people who inspired an artwork) can become contentious if a larger institution unilaterally intervenes.
This high-profile case underscores a principle: using or suppressing someone’s name in an art context without consent is a serious ethical breach. While the Belvedere 21 example took place at a museum, it was the independent space collective that blew the whistle – indicating that Vienna’s off-scene has a critical eye on such matters. It’s worth noting that misattribution can take more subtle forms in smaller circles too. Independent projects often operate collectively, and sometimes individual roles (curator, coordinator, etc.) aren’t publicly delineated in the spirit of horizontal collaboration. But this can backfire if an individual who contributed significantly isn’t acknowledged at all. Anecdotally, members of the scene have raised concerns about situations like exhibition press releases that omit key organizers, or instances where a person’s name was included in grant applications or program materials without asking them first – a practice that can amount to appropriation of credibility. Such stories, when they come to light, usually spark frank discussion in the community, even if they don’t always make headlines.
In short, the “vanishing curator” problem speaks to the heart of independent art labor: much of it is invisible to begin with, and without careful ethics, people can literally become invisible – either through lack of credit or unauthorized name-dropping. Both undermine the trust and solidarity that the independent scene prides itself on.
Public Discussions and Calls for Fair Practices
The tension between passion-driven informal labor and fair working conditions has fueled ongoing public discussions in Vienna’s art world. Collectives and cultural workers have increasingly called out the expectation of unpaid or underpaid work, pushing institutions and funders to acknowledge these contributions more tangibly. For example, Austria’s artists’ advocacy groups have launched “Fair Pay” initiatives in recent years, arguing that the creative sector’s heavy reliance on volunteerism is unsustainable . The Kulturrat Österreich and IG Kultur Wien have published guidelines and readers on Fair Pay (fair compensation), highlighting the paradox that while art enriches society, the art workers themselves often lack basic remuneration or job security . In the independent visual arts, the IG Bildende Kunst (Visual Artists’ Association) likewise has made social rights and fair wages a focus, providing counseling on contracts and labor rights for cultural producers. The ethos is clear: exploitation in the arts – even self-exploitation in the name of art – is being interrogated openly.
Within the independent space scene, these broader debates translate into a more critical self-reflection. Many off-space organizers openly acknowledge the “prekäres Arbeiten” (precarious work) they perform and are seeking ways to improve it without losing autonomy. Some have experimented with new funding models, collective fundraising or resource-sharing to ease the burden. The City of Vienna’s increased support (like the Offspace prizes and small grants) is a response to this pressure, but practitioners argue it’s just a start. A comment in Die Presse noted that even though Vienna provides uniquely robust support to small art initiatives, the operators still essentially subsidize the art with their own day-job earnings and free time . Symbolic gestures, like awards, while appreciated, do not fully resolve the systemic issue of “Selbstausbeutung” (self-exploitation) that comes with running an art space for love, not money.
Misattribution and credit issues have also been part of these discussions. The Improper Walls vs. Belvedere 21 case, for instance, became a cautionary tale in panels and forums about institutional relationships: it illustrated how an independent group’s labor and intent were essentially overridden by a larger institution, and how crucial it was for the independent scene to stand its ground on ethical practice. In that case the public outcry and solidarity actually led Belvedere 21 to issue a formal statement and likely re-examine its curatorial protocols . This shows that raising one’s voice (even without formal power) can yield results. Likewise, smaller-scale grievances – a curator not credited here, an artist’s name misused there – are increasingly met with community support. Social media in Vienna’s art circles has seen posts and open letters gaining traction when someone reports such an incident, indicating a collective intolerance for plagiarism, misattribution, or any form of consent violation regarding artistic labor.
In sum, Vienna’s independent art scene is in a phase of asserting its values more directly. The tone is growing more institutionally critical, not in the sense of rejecting all institutions, but in demanding that both big and small players uphold principles of fairness, transparency, and respect for individual agency. This means calling out informal exploitation (however well-meant) and insisting that names – whether of artists, curators, or collaborators – are only used with consent and given the credit they are due.
Reporting and Addressing Ethical Concerns
If an independent art practitioner in Vienna encounters a case of informal labor abuse or unauthorized name-use (“vanishing curator” instances), what can be done? While the art world lacks a single HR department or ombudsman, there are channels to seek recourse and guidance.
1. Within the Independent Space Index (ISI) Network:
The Independent Space Index itself – founded in 2017 as a solidarity network of Vienna’s independent art spaces – can be a starting point. ISI is essentially a directory and community forum for these spaces . It is “proudly self-organized” and run by volunteers from the scene who meet regularly to discuss issues and develop a shared identity . While ISI is not a regulatory body, bringing a concern to the network can put peer pressure on the space or collective in question. For example, if a curator’s name was used without consent by an ISI-listed space, one could formally contact the ISI organizers (they provide a contact email at contact@independentspaceindex.at) . Explaining the situation may prompt ISI to facilitate a dialogue or at least raise the topic at the next network meeting. Since the network’s very ethos is to “strengthen solidarity among like-minded initiatives” and highlight the contributions of independents , it has an interest in ethical best-practices. Even simply sharing the experience with fellow members can raise awareness and prevent similar issues across other spaces.
2. Arts Advocacy Organizations and Ethics Committees:
Vienna has several artist advocacy groups that can offer advice or intervene in a conflict. The IG Bildende Kunst (Visual Artists’ Association) is one; it represents the socio-economic and legal interests of visual artists and cultural workers in Austria . IG Bildende offers consultation hours where members (and often non-members) can get guidance on issues like contracts, unpaid fees, or disputes – including situations where someone’s work wasn’t credited or paid. They can’t impose a solution, but they can help draft a formal complaint or mediate informally. Similarly, IG Kultur Wien (and the broader Kulturrat) has working groups on fair practices. These bodies have been actively developing honorarium recommendations, contract templates, and even conflict resolution support for the independent cultural sector . Reaching out to them could connect an individual with legal advice or public advocacy. In some cases, if an issue indicates a broader pattern, these groups might make it a public topic (through their magazines or social media), thus amplifying the pressure to resolve it.
3. Funding Bodies and Public Reporting:
If the space or project involved receives public funding (for instance, a grant from MA7, the City’s cultural department), there may be a leverage point through the funding guidelines. Public funders generally expect organizations to adhere to ethical and legal standards. While it’s a delicate step, one could inform the funding body if a serious breach occurred (e.g. a person’s name or intellectual contribution was used without permission, or promised fees were not paid). The City of Vienna likely does not have a formal complaint office for this, but a well-documented letter to the department or the culture council could prompt an inquiry – especially if the situation might violate grant conditions or tarnish the city’s reputation for supporting fair culture. The mere possibility of jeopardizing funding can compel an organization to correct course. Of course, this should be considered a last resort after attempting dialogue, as it escalates the issue.
4. Open Letters and Public Discourse:
The art community often polices itself through public discourse. Crafting an open letter (as seen in the Improper Walls case) or a detailed public statement can rally support. This path has pros and cons: it can shame the offending party into action and alert others, but it also makes the conflict very public. In Vienna’s relatively close-knit art scene, many prefer to resolve things behind closed doors first. Still, if private discussions fail, going public in art magazines, on platforms like basis wien’s text archive, or even via social media may be warranted. Publicity not only pressures those directly involved but also educates the wider scene on what is and isn’t acceptable.
In all these approaches, documentation is key: keeping emails, screenshots, or other evidence of agreements (or lack thereof) about roles and name usage will strengthen any case made to networks or groups. And while pursuing a remedy, it’s heartening to remember that the independent art community’s default stance is one of solidarity and ethical reflection – the very reason the Independent Space Index was created was to uplift each other and share resources . This spirit means that raising a concern is likely to find sympathetic ears, not blacklisting. The goal is to ensure that the invisible labor in the art world becomes more visible and valued, and that names – whether of a curator, artist, or contributor – only “vanish” when their owners want to step back, not through oversight or misconduct.
Endnote – How to Report to Independent Space Index:
*To formally report an issue or seek advice from the Independent Space Index network, one can contact the ISI organizers via email: contact@independentspaceindex.at
*Briefly outline the situation, including the space or event in question, and ask if the issue can be brought to the network’s attention. ISI’s volunteer team may reply with next steps or suggest raising it at a network meeting. While ISI has no enforcement arm, the informal peer accountability it provides can be effective.
*For additional support, consider reaching out to IG Bildende Kunst or IG Kultur for professional advice on artists’ rights and ethical practices in such matters.
These steps can help turn a personal grievance into a constructive dialogue about improving conditions across Vienna’s independent art scene.
Sources:
Vienna boasts a vibrant “free scene” of independent art spaces – often called off-spaces, artist-run or project spaces – which operate outside the major museums and commercial galleries. As of 2022, an estimated 170 such spaces existed in Vienna alone, ranging from tiny studio galleries to nomadic initiatives. These independent venues have become an “unübersehbare Größe” (unmissable force) in the local art ecosystem, valued for their experimental programs and community-oriented approach. Crucially, most are organized as non-profit cultural associations run by artists or curators themselves.
However, the price of this freedom is often paid in labor. Those who found or manage independent spaces rarely draw a salary from it – “wer sich entscheidet, einen solchen unabhängigen Kunstraum zu betreiben, tut dies nicht, um davon zu leben, sondern aus Engagement und Idealismus” (whoever decides to run such an independent art space does not do it to make a living, but out of engagement and idealism) . In practice, this means countless hours of organizing exhibitions, managing venues, and promotion are done informally or voluntarily, alongside day jobs elsewhere. As one long-running space, New Jörg, noted, “wir haben daher fast immer ausschließlich ehrenamtlich gearbeitet” – they have “almost always worked on an entirely voluntary basis” . This unpaid labor is often justified by passion and artistic freedom, but it blurs the line between selfless commitment and self-exploitation. An Austrian cultural analysis bluntly asks: “Inwieweit rechtfertigt ein Projekt unbezahlte Arbeit? Welche Rolle spielt die Anerkennung als symbolische Entgeltung?” – To what extent can a project justify unpaid work, and is symbolic recognition a valid form of compensation? . These questions have become increasingly pressing as the independent scene gains prominence.
Financially, many off-spaces survive through shoestring budgets supplemented by modest public funding. The City of Vienna’s cultural department (MA7) and federal grants sometimes provide small operating subsidies or project funding, acknowledging the value of these grassroots initiatives. In fact, Vienna is somewhat unique internationally in supporting even very small, artist-run galleries with public funds, at least to cover basic costs . Since 2020 the city has even created an “Offspace-Preis” – an annual prize awarding €4,000 each to five outstanding independent spaces – signaling institutional recognition of their work. Yet such sums barely dent the workload: “Mit unserer Förderung zahlen wir die Miete… alles andere übernehmen wir selbst,” as one collective running Kluckyland described (with their grant they cover rent, “everything else we take care of ourselves”) . Volunteers and collective DIY efforts remain the backbone of these spaces . In short, precarious labor conditions are the norm, a fact increasingly under scrutiny in public cultural discourse.
The “Vanishing Curator”: Misattribution and Name-Use Without ConsentAgainst this backdrop of informal, behind-the-scenes work, a troubling phenomenon can occur – what we might call the “vanishing curator.” This refers to cases where curatorial or organizational labor in an art project is not properly credited, or where someone’s name is invoked in an art context without their consent. In independent art circles, where roles are often fluid and documentation less stringent than in big institutions, the potential for misattribution is high. A curator who poured unpaid hours into coordinating an exhibition might find their name omitted from the final program (vanishing from the narrative), or conversely, an initiative might list an individual’s name without approval – for instance, to appear more prestigious or to meet funding criteria – effectively using a name “in vain.” Both scenarios erode trust and raise ethical red flags regarding consent and labor recognition.
A documented case in Vienna’s scene occurred in late 2023, illustrating how seriously the community takes name-related ethics. The independent art platform Improper Walls had collaborated on a contribution to Über das Neue, an exhibition at Belvedere 21 (a major institution) showcasing “Viennese scenes.” The piece, created by artists Joanna Zabielska, Zosia Hołubowska, and Alma Bektas with Improper Walls, included a wall text – a dedication of a poem to two real individuals, “Firas from Palestine and Ali from Lebanon,” who were refugees inspiring the work . During the exhibition’s install, the museum’s curatorial team removed this dedication from the wall without the artists’ knowledge or consent, literally erasing the names and identities of those two people from the exhibit . This unilateral act of censorship (justified by the institution initially on unspecified grounds) exemplified “name-use” issues in reverse – not attributing, but deleting a name without permission. The reaction was swift and public: Improper Walls withdrew their curatorial contribution from the show in protest, and an open letter titled “Art Community Against Censorship” circulated, garnering widespread support . The open letter condemned the museum for censoring the names and altering the artwork without involving its creators, framing it as an abuse of institutional power that disrespected the artists’ intent and the voices of the refugees being acknowledged. The incident highlighted how even a well-intended name mention (in this case to honor people who inspired an artwork) can become contentious if a larger institution unilaterally intervenes.
This high-profile case underscores a principle: using or suppressing someone’s name in an art context without consent is a serious ethical breach. While the Belvedere 21 example took place at a museum, it was the independent space collective that blew the whistle – indicating that Vienna’s off-scene has a critical eye on such matters. It’s worth noting that misattribution can take more subtle forms in smaller circles too. Independent projects often operate collectively, and sometimes individual roles (curator, coordinator, etc.) aren’t publicly delineated in the spirit of horizontal collaboration. But this can backfire if an individual who contributed significantly isn’t acknowledged at all. Anecdotally, members of the scene have raised concerns about situations like exhibition press releases that omit key organizers, or instances where a person’s name was included in grant applications or program materials without asking them first – a practice that can amount to appropriation of credibility. Such stories, when they come to light, usually spark frank discussion in the community, even if they don’t always make headlines.
In short, the “vanishing curator” problem speaks to the heart of independent art labor: much of it is invisible to begin with, and without careful ethics, people can literally become invisible – either through lack of credit or unauthorized name-dropping. Both undermine the trust and solidarity that the independent scene prides itself on.
Public Discussions and Calls for Fair Practices
The tension between passion-driven informal labor and fair working conditions has fueled ongoing public discussions in Vienna’s art world. Collectives and cultural workers have increasingly called out the expectation of unpaid or underpaid work, pushing institutions and funders to acknowledge these contributions more tangibly. For example, Austria’s artists’ advocacy groups have launched “Fair Pay” initiatives in recent years, arguing that the creative sector’s heavy reliance on volunteerism is unsustainable . The Kulturrat Österreich and IG Kultur Wien have published guidelines and readers on Fair Pay (fair compensation), highlighting the paradox that while art enriches society, the art workers themselves often lack basic remuneration or job security . In the independent visual arts, the IG Bildende Kunst (Visual Artists’ Association) likewise has made social rights and fair wages a focus, providing counseling on contracts and labor rights for cultural producers. The ethos is clear: exploitation in the arts – even self-exploitation in the name of art – is being interrogated openly.
Within the independent space scene, these broader debates translate into a more critical self-reflection. Many off-space organizers openly acknowledge the “prekäres Arbeiten” (precarious work) they perform and are seeking ways to improve it without losing autonomy. Some have experimented with new funding models, collective fundraising or resource-sharing to ease the burden. The City of Vienna’s increased support (like the Offspace prizes and small grants) is a response to this pressure, but practitioners argue it’s just a start. A comment in Die Presse noted that even though Vienna provides uniquely robust support to small art initiatives, the operators still essentially subsidize the art with their own day-job earnings and free time . Symbolic gestures, like awards, while appreciated, do not fully resolve the systemic issue of “Selbstausbeutung” (self-exploitation) that comes with running an art space for love, not money.
Misattribution and credit issues have also been part of these discussions. The Improper Walls vs. Belvedere 21 case, for instance, became a cautionary tale in panels and forums about institutional relationships: it illustrated how an independent group’s labor and intent were essentially overridden by a larger institution, and how crucial it was for the independent scene to stand its ground on ethical practice. In that case the public outcry and solidarity actually led Belvedere 21 to issue a formal statement and likely re-examine its curatorial protocols . This shows that raising one’s voice (even without formal power) can yield results. Likewise, smaller-scale grievances – a curator not credited here, an artist’s name misused there – are increasingly met with community support. Social media in Vienna’s art circles has seen posts and open letters gaining traction when someone reports such an incident, indicating a collective intolerance for plagiarism, misattribution, or any form of consent violation regarding artistic labor.
In sum, Vienna’s independent art scene is in a phase of asserting its values more directly. The tone is growing more institutionally critical, not in the sense of rejecting all institutions, but in demanding that both big and small players uphold principles of fairness, transparency, and respect for individual agency. This means calling out informal exploitation (however well-meant) and insisting that names – whether of artists, curators, or collaborators – are only used with consent and given the credit they are due.
Reporting and Addressing Ethical Concerns
If an independent art practitioner in Vienna encounters a case of informal labor abuse or unauthorized name-use (“vanishing curator” instances), what can be done? While the art world lacks a single HR department or ombudsman, there are channels to seek recourse and guidance.
1. Within the Independent Space Index (ISI) Network:
The Independent Space Index itself – founded in 2017 as a solidarity network of Vienna’s independent art spaces – can be a starting point. ISI is essentially a directory and community forum for these spaces . It is “proudly self-organized” and run by volunteers from the scene who meet regularly to discuss issues and develop a shared identity . While ISI is not a regulatory body, bringing a concern to the network can put peer pressure on the space or collective in question. For example, if a curator’s name was used without consent by an ISI-listed space, one could formally contact the ISI organizers (they provide a contact email at contact@independentspaceindex.at) . Explaining the situation may prompt ISI to facilitate a dialogue or at least raise the topic at the next network meeting. Since the network’s very ethos is to “strengthen solidarity among like-minded initiatives” and highlight the contributions of independents , it has an interest in ethical best-practices. Even simply sharing the experience with fellow members can raise awareness and prevent similar issues across other spaces.
2. Arts Advocacy Organizations and Ethics Committees:
Vienna has several artist advocacy groups that can offer advice or intervene in a conflict. The IG Bildende Kunst (Visual Artists’ Association) is one; it represents the socio-economic and legal interests of visual artists and cultural workers in Austria . IG Bildende offers consultation hours where members (and often non-members) can get guidance on issues like contracts, unpaid fees, or disputes – including situations where someone’s work wasn’t credited or paid. They can’t impose a solution, but they can help draft a formal complaint or mediate informally. Similarly, IG Kultur Wien (and the broader Kulturrat) has working groups on fair practices. These bodies have been actively developing honorarium recommendations, contract templates, and even conflict resolution support for the independent cultural sector . Reaching out to them could connect an individual with legal advice or public advocacy. In some cases, if an issue indicates a broader pattern, these groups might make it a public topic (through their magazines or social media), thus amplifying the pressure to resolve it.
3. Funding Bodies and Public Reporting:
If the space or project involved receives public funding (for instance, a grant from MA7, the City’s cultural department), there may be a leverage point through the funding guidelines. Public funders generally expect organizations to adhere to ethical and legal standards. While it’s a delicate step, one could inform the funding body if a serious breach occurred (e.g. a person’s name or intellectual contribution was used without permission, or promised fees were not paid). The City of Vienna likely does not have a formal complaint office for this, but a well-documented letter to the department or the culture council could prompt an inquiry – especially if the situation might violate grant conditions or tarnish the city’s reputation for supporting fair culture. The mere possibility of jeopardizing funding can compel an organization to correct course. Of course, this should be considered a last resort after attempting dialogue, as it escalates the issue.
4. Open Letters and Public Discourse:
The art community often polices itself through public discourse. Crafting an open letter (as seen in the Improper Walls case) or a detailed public statement can rally support. This path has pros and cons: it can shame the offending party into action and alert others, but it also makes the conflict very public. In Vienna’s relatively close-knit art scene, many prefer to resolve things behind closed doors first. Still, if private discussions fail, going public in art magazines, on platforms like basis wien’s text archive, or even via social media may be warranted. Publicity not only pressures those directly involved but also educates the wider scene on what is and isn’t acceptable.
In all these approaches, documentation is key: keeping emails, screenshots, or other evidence of agreements (or lack thereof) about roles and name usage will strengthen any case made to networks or groups. And while pursuing a remedy, it’s heartening to remember that the independent art community’s default stance is one of solidarity and ethical reflection – the very reason the Independent Space Index was created was to uplift each other and share resources . This spirit means that raising a concern is likely to find sympathetic ears, not blacklisting. The goal is to ensure that the invisible labor in the art world becomes more visible and valued, and that names – whether of a curator, artist, or contributor – only “vanish” when their owners want to step back, not through oversight or misconduct.
Endnote – How to Report to Independent Space Index:
*To formally report an issue or seek advice from the Independent Space Index network, one can contact the ISI organizers via email: contact@independentspaceindex.at
*Briefly outline the situation, including the space or event in question, and ask if the issue can be brought to the network’s attention. ISI’s volunteer team may reply with next steps or suggest raising it at a network meeting. While ISI has no enforcement arm, the informal peer accountability it provides can be effective.
*For additional support, consider reaching out to IG Bildende Kunst or IG Kultur for professional advice on artists’ rights and ethical practices in such matters.
These steps can help turn a personal grievance into a constructive dialogue about improving conditions across Vienna’s independent art scene.
Sources:
- Johanna Hofleitner, “Zu Besuch in den Kunsträumen,” Die Presse (3 Nov 2022) – An overview of Vienna’s off-spaces emphasizing their non-commercial, volunteer-driven nature .
- Improper Walls (Kulturverein) – “Belvedere 21” Improper Dose article by Bita Bell (Feb 28, 2025), describing the removal of a dedication text (“Firas from Palestine and Ali from Lebanon”) by the museum without artists’ consent .
- IG Kultur Österreich – “I say anarchy and you say sorry” (Theorie blog), which poses critical questions about unpaid artistic labor and symbolic compensation .
- Independent Space Index – Official website (About page) outlining the network’s purpose, volunteer structure, and contact information .
- City of Vienna Cultural Department (MA7) – Statements via Die Presse noting unique funding support for independent spaces and the Offspace-Preis introduction in 2020 .
Personal case with Discotec, Association for NewMedia & Performance in Contemporary Arts:
There’s a quiet violence in being named — but not notified.
In mid-September 2024, I was in contact with a representative of a Vienna-based artist-run platform in the context of their upcoming program. During this exchange, I was directly asked to send curatorial material — regardless of its state — in order for my proposed exhibition to be considered within their funding application:
“Please please send me anything, can be outdated or half-baked, but we would need some material to start with.”
(Telegram, 16.9.2024, 21:49)
In response, I sent a curatorial proposal originally developed in 2021 for an unrealized exhibition at U10 ArtSpace in Belgrade. The material was explicitly requested to support the group’s internal programming timeline, with the understanding that my involvement would be considered for further development.
My name was indeed included in the application as a curator. However, I was never informed of the decision to remove me from the final program, nor was I consulted during the budget planning process. Months later, after the program received funding, I was not listed among the collaborators. Instead, I received a symbolic retroactive offer of €150 — not from the platform itself, but from the artists — as a gesture toward “curatorial support.”
The reason cited for my exclusion? That my curatorial text was “not included” in the final application PDF. This logic frames curatorial contribution as dependent solely on word-for-word inclusion — erasing the broader labor of intellectual preparation, temporal commitment, and name-use embedded in funding logic.
Informal Use, Formal Consequences
What occurred here is not unique. Many cultural practitioners — curators, writers, artists — are repeatedly drawn into informal working dynamics, where ideas are welcomed, names are listed, and labor is mobilized, often without explicit agreements or guarantees.
But when projects secure public funding, these seemingly “informal” phases take on real-world impact. Public money legitimizes not just outcomes, but the processes through which contributors are engaged, credited, or excluded.
In my case, the curatorial concept was not co-authored. It was previously written, yes — but it was offered with transparency and good faith in a collaborative structure. That structure, in turn, failed to notify me when I was removed, failed to propose a fair remuneration model, and ultimately used my name to strengthen an application I would no longer be part of.
This is not simply unfortunate. It is professionally consequential — and ethically significant in the context of public funding structures that aim to support fair labor, equity, and transparency in cultural production.
Toward Pre-Contractual Accountability
This experience reinforces something I’ve been advocating for in other curatorial and collaborative work: the need for clear pre-contractual accountability. Not everything needs to be a signed contract — but when names, labor, or intellectual content are used to support grant applications, the following minimums should apply:
-
Clear communication of roles and timelines
-
Notification if inclusion status changes
-
Acknowledgment of contributed material, even if not used directly
- Clarity around budget structures before names are submitted
These aren’t bureaucratic hurdles. They’re respect mechanisms — especially in independent and artist-run contexts where informality is often misused as an alibi for poor process.
Archiving the Non-Included
As I document this experience, I do so not out of bitterness, but out of necessity. This case now appears in my professional portfolio not as an “exhibition,” but as a curatorial contribution that was requested, submitted, and later excluded — with lasting consequences for my time, visibility, and labor.
Curatorial framework (uncredited) for Discotec 2025 exhibition. Originally developed for U10 Belgrade (2021), shared on request in September 2024 to support programming development. Name included in application, later excluded without notification or compensation. This experience underscores the need for pre-contractual clarity and fair labor standards in publicly funded curatorial projects.
[2024–2025]
[2024–2025]
In publicly funded art contexts, where visibility often equals legitimacy, what is uncredited can carry just as much weight as what is published. To archive the non-included is to hold space for how cultural work is built — not just through outcomes, but through the overlooked scaffolding of names, drafts, and discarded conversations.
We must name what has been used without acknowledgment. We must record the labor that institutions forget.
This isn’t a call for conflict, but a demand for structure. A name is not a placeholder. A curator is not a speculative figure in a funding strategy. €150 is not a neutral gesture when delivered post-fact. And a €4,000 grant, no matter how modest, does not excuse the elimination of ethical process.
In an era of shrinking public support for the arts, we cannot afford to also shrink our ethics. The independent scene should not replicate the opacity of larger institutions. On the contrary — its strength lies in transparency, mutual accountability, and the refusal to disappear those who helped build the work.
Let’s name this clearly: this was misattribution. This was exploitation. And it’s time we install safeguards to ensure it doesn’t happen again — to anyone.
WIEN 21 JULY 2025.