David Balzer’s thought-provoking new book, Curationism: How Curating Took Over the Art World and Everything Else (Coach House Press/Pluto Press), explores what it means for the verb “curate” to be adopted by popular culture. Whether liking a friend’s post on Facebook, purchasing a cookbook on Amazon, or interacting with one of Subway’s “sandwich artists,” we’ve all become “curators” of our own identities. And with the advent of the Internet, it seems like we have more power over the choices we make than ever before. But is that really the case? And if everyone is a curator, then what is art? Is there any room left for spontaneous experience?
Balzer tackles these massive existential queries in the pages of his book, and will be exploring them during a talk at Vancouver’s Contemporary Art Gallery on April 10. Sad Mag’s Shannon Tien sat down with Balzer for a sneak peak of Friday’s event.
Shannon Tien: Can you explain how the term “curate” has changed over time?
David Balzer: So there’s the traditional curator who studies art history, gets their PhD, does a museum studies certificate, and then they work in the back rooms of museums with restorers and they’re kind of custodians of art historical works. That isn’t really what I’m interested in.
I’m interested in the contemporary curator. That idea can be traced back all the way to the Roman Empire. The Latin root of “curator” means to care for something. So the curators in the Roman Empire were basically caretakers. 
The curator has never been easy to define; it’s only nowadays that we think of the curator as a “real” job. So I argue that the curator becomes super contemporary when the curator’s asked not just to care for things, but to give value to them. That happens in the early to mid-20th Century. Then the real birth of the curator in terms of how we understand it happens in the conceptual art movement of the 1960s and 1970s. And at this point, curators are not just giving value to objects, but they’re also performing the value of art. That aspect of performance in curating is the thing I think is kind of key in understanding how curating transitioned from the art world to popular culture.
Basically, using “curate” as a verb—saying that you’re going to “curate” something, or that “I curated a collection of hats”—the Oxford English Dictionary traces that usage back only to the early 1980s. And the usage that they find for their draft edition is from the world of performance art, which I think is really telling. It’s a dance performance at this New York avant-garde space called The Kitchen being written about by The New York Times. From that point on you see the word “to curate” or “curated by” used in the context of dance or music festivals and then by the 1990s, when the contemporary curator becomes a really important part of the institution, that word is used more and more and then the Internet happens and everyone sort of appropriates its use.
ST: When exactly did our own cultural consumption become a curatorial act?
DB: You know the saying in retail, “The customer’s always right”? I think that it’s changed to, “The customer must always feel as if they’re choosing.” When you “curate” something you’re “choosing,” and businesses have really latched onto this as a means of superficially empowering consumers. I think we can pinpoint it in the late 1990s going past Y2K, when all of a sudden we were made to choose a lot as consumers. There’s deep sociological and demographic research that needs to back it up, but generally the Internet has become a fact of life for a lot of people. At the same time there’s a crisis in terms of cultural consumption. In the art world, art institutions are not being funded the way they like, and in other spheres such as book buying, for instance, you’ve got these huge chains emerging in the ‘90s like Borders and Chapters and they just swallow up the little brick and mortar stores. So culture’s getting really homogenized at the same time that everyone’s going online and wondering who they are and interacting with people in a more active and global way than ever before. But whenever I’m talking about “choosing” I’m being a little ironic because I think that the idea of cultural curating is not necessarily the most empowering thing in terms of giving us choice. It kind of provides us with this illusion of choice.
ST: Can you talk about the rise of “normcore,” or the idea that taste is irrelevant because the Internet makes everything available to everyone?
DB: I don’t think the idea of curating would ever become completely obsolete. But what I do argue—and these ideas are present in the work of K-HOLE, the group that birthed the term “normcore,” and they’re present in post-Marxist Italian theory—this idea that we’re online and we’re asked to perform what we like and what our taste is. But people who are thinking about it, who are aware of possibly inhabiting the Matrix or whatever, can easily sense that what we’re doing online is prompted by similar algorithms, and what we like is highly influenced by what other people like. In fact we’re encouraged to like what other people like. When we buy something on Amazon, Amazon tells us what other people bought in addition to what we’re buying as a prompt to see if we might want to buy that too. It’s a bit of disingenuous uniqueness that online curating promotes. And if you think of it for five seconds, you realize that the sorts of choices you’re being asked to make as a social media user are pretty flattening.
ST: Are algorithms robot curators? Are they the future of curating?
DB: Well in a way I think that the algorithm is curatorial but also anti-curatorial. If you program something that can do the choosing for you in a semi-cognisant way, this choosing is only based on what’s been chosen before. But I like the idea that a program can show us that curating is not the most unique or difficult thing that one can engage with. I think that it can really call into serious question our precious notions of what it means to curate. But I also think that a good thing to come out of it would be to bring us back to a more thoughtful meditation on what it actually means to curate or choose. It’s maybe the end point of this discussion where curating has reached such an accelerated moment that now we’re getting computers and software to do it for us.
ST: How has this book affected your own “curationism”?
DB: I think that as someone who as been a critic for a long time, who’s a voracious consumer of film, art, music, literature, and talks about it all the time, I’ve sort of reached a moment, and it was when I was writing the book—and maybe it had to do with a personal element of this [which] was that I just exited a very long term relationship that was very much built around the expression of taste—where I thought, “Why is taste so important? And why am I always trying to perform what I like for everybody? Why does it matter? Isn’t there a better way to engage with culture and show how much it means to me?” So this book maybe represents that existential crisis.
This interview has been condensed and edited. Catch David Balzer at Vancouver’s Contemporary Art Gallery on April 10 at 7 p.m.