ENWEZOR’S MODEL and Copenhagen’s Center for Art on Migration Politics

The aim of this study is to trace the influential postcolonial "platforms model" that Enwezor conceptualized for Documenta11 to a small but internationally acclaimed gallery in Copenhagen, the Center for Art on Migration Politics (CAMP).² The article falls into three parts. The first part introduces CAMP and the Danish context for migration before we discuss core elements of Enwezor's exemplar)/ transformation of curating into the creation of platforms for political interventions at his Documenta exhibition. The second part seeks to answer three questions: What was the curatorial strategy and multisited structure that Enwezor and his team developed? How did their decolonizing approach help create inclusive, discursive, and curatorial spaces that contested the binaristic perception of the West as the center and the non-West as periphery and offered a vision of the (art) world as profoundly entangled and plurivocal? Furthermore, how has the organization of Documenta11 as a globally distributed network of discursively and conceptually interconnected platforms contributed to restructuring the exhibition venue and to rethinking the interrelationship between the exhibition itself, as it is traditionally understood as the very core of an art event, and exhibition-related events perceived as collateral, sometimes even dispensable, activities? The third part of the article returns to CAMP to explore the specific translation of Enwezor's legacy into a small-scale, local art space. It outlines the development of CAMP'S exhibition program since the opening in 2015 and homes in on two exhibitions from CAMP'S program, State of Integration: Artistic Analyses of the Challenges of Coexistence (2018-20).

We turn to Enwezor for theoretical support - in particular, to his curatorial working principles of "transculturality" and "extraterritoriality" - as well as draw on the notion of the curatorial developed in British curatorial studies.³ We adopt the categories of "space" and "public," and unpack the idea of postmigrant public spaces to examine how CAMP created a transcultural contact zone and addressed not just an (art gallery) audience but a plurality of publics. Our understanding of the postmigrant is indebted to recent German postmigrant thinking that has reopened the debate on the long-term effects of migration on European societies.⁴ It is a critical, conflict-sensitive discourse that aims to recode migration and sociocultural diversity as a state of normalcy as opposed to the widespread obsession with migration as "crises"- a discourse that resonates with Enwezor's agendas and visions.

From 2015 until 2020, CAMP was uniquely housed inside the community center, Trampoline House, a meeting place for refugees, asylum seekers, volunteers, and citizens of Copenhagen.⁵ Five days a week the house offered various activities and classes, legal counseling, job training, a children's club, and, importantly, a space for conviviality. By creating a hospitable zone of contact, the community center helped to break the isolation and alleviate the sense of powerlessness that many refugees and asylum seekers experience during their months and years of waiting in the Danish asylum system while their asylum application is being processed.⁶ Thanks to CAMP, Trampoline House also became a place where nongovernmental organization representatives, activists, scholars, educators, artists, and curators came together within the framework of the center's program of art exhibitions and politically mobilizing exhibition-related events, which were often woven into the fabric of regular activities of the community center and its multicultural community of refugees, asylum seekers, volunteers, staff, and other citizens of Copenhagen.

The founders of CAMP are Frederikke Hansen and Tone Olaf Nielsen, alias the curatorial team Kuratorisk Aktion (Curatorial Action). Their approach to curating resonates with that of other collectives such as the one explored by ruangrupa, a Jakarta-based collective established in 2000. Kuratorisk Aktion has collaborated with ruangrupa on several projects such as Rethinking Nordic Colonialism: A Postcolonial Exhibition Project in Five Acts (2006) and - important in relation to the legacy of Okwui Enwezor - the upcoming documenta fifteen (2022). In effect, the closing of the physical gallery space of CAMP in 2020 coincided with Kuratorisk Aktion's increasing engagement in the preparations for documenta fifteen.⁷

That the curators have had the perseverance to keep a gallery dedicated to migration politics going for six years in Denmark is an extraordinary achievement in itself. This country has some of the toughest laws on asylum and immigration in Europe and within the European Union (EU) with its dubious border regime, the slow violence of its asylum centers, and its proliferating range of old and new forms of racism and fascism. Historically, Denmark has been held up as a liberal forerunner with respect to the protection of refugees. In recent decades, however, Denmark has imposed a series of restrictive policies concerning both asylum and immigration. For instance, 2015 saw the introduction of a new tertiary protection status, "temporary protection status," for those fleeing general violence and armed conflict. The year after, access to family reunification for those granted temporary protection status was also removed during the first three years of residence unless special considerations apply. Following the surge in the number of primarily Syrian asylum seekers in the summer of 2015, Denmark also ran an antirefugee ad campaign in Arabic-language newspapers warning refugees about the plights that asylum-seekers and refugees will have to endure in Denmark. Such forms of indirect deterrence can be characterized as a form of "negative nation branding" intended to discourage refugees and irregular migrants from arriving in the territory and accessing the asylum system. While other EU countries have increasingly followed suit and adopted similar policies to stem the tide of refugees and irregular immigrants from Africa and the Middle East, Denmark and some other countries have also sought to brand themselves as "hard-liners." Professor in Migration and Refugee Law Thomas Gammeltoft-Hansen has thus rightly pointed out that "Denmark has long openly justified its more restrictive asylum policies with reference to its desire to avoid asylum-seekers."⁸

This tightening of the laws on asylum is obviously permeated by racism. As the German social scientist Naika Foroutan has observed, many of the conflicts at the heart of European plural democratic societies - such as the struggles for equality, freedom, security, and democratic rights - are fought, in an emblematic way, in relation to migration.⁹ Regarding the European struggles against racism, they are inseparable from the critique of the highly racialized border control measures generated by European refugee and asylum policies. As refugee studies scholar Martin Lemberg-Pedersen has remarked, "the racialized fears of being demographically swamped by black majorities" at the core of European border control systems can be traced back to colonial times, when the white Caribbean plantation elites were split between "the desire for profit maximization" and the fear of suppressed Black majorities overpowering them on what the European colonizers regarded as their territories.¹⁰

It could thus be argued that, in a Danish context, the activist and political struggle against unjust and debilitating asylum policies cannot be separated from the struggle against racism.¹¹ Accordingly, CAMP'S critical interrogation of asylum and migration politics can be seen as a local variant of the worldwide antiracist struggle and thus linked to the protests against police brutality against African Americans specifically and systemic racism in general, which exploded in the United States after the police killing of George Floyd on May 25, 2020, and then spread like wildfire across the Western world, thanks to the transnational Black Lives Matter movement.

As Anthony Gardner and Charles Green have noted in their book Biennials, Triennials, and Documenta, Documenta11 is widely considered to be one of the most important exhibitions in recent decades, recognized for its postcolonial agenda, its sensitivity to the geographic dispersion of contemporary art in the so-called Global South, as well as its experimentation with collective modes of curatorship.¹² Enwezor organized Documenta11 with a group of six cocurators: Carlos Basualdo, Ute Meta Bauer, Susanne Ghez, Sarat Maharaj, Mark Nash, and Octavio Zaya. As this curatorial team comprised professionals with various Western and non-Western backgrounds, it countered the dichotomous perception of the West as the center and the non-West as periphery on an institutional level and suggested that the art world is profoundly entangled and culturally pluralized.¹³

In the following, we will primarily concentrate on one key aspect underpinning the conceptualization of Documenta11, namely, the creation of a series of interconnected platforms for political intervention, which Enwezor himself referred to as "interlocking constellations of discursive domains, circuits of artistic knowledge production, and research modules."¹⁴ Instead of solely staging a show in Documenta's home city Kassel, Germany, Enwezor chose to disperse the significantly expanded range of the exhibition-related discursive activities encompassing conferences, debates, and workshops. These activities were conceived as interventions into current theoretical and political debates, and they were far more comprehensive than the type of events program that has traditionally accompanied major international exhibitions and biennales. Documenta11's discursive activities were distributed across five connected forums, or platforms, as Enwezor called them. Taking place successively over the course of one year, these platforms facilitated a durational approach to curating.¹⁵ Furthermore, the platforms were spread across the globe, each located in a different nation. Platform One, titled Democracy Unrealized, took place in Vienna, Austria, from March 15 to April 20, 2001, and later in Berlin, Germany, from October 9 to October 30, 2001. Platform Two, Experiments with Truth: Transitional Justice and the Processes of Truth and Reconciliation, materialized in New Delhi, India, from May 7 to May 21, 2002. Platform Three, Créolite and Creolization, was held on the West Indian island of St. Lucia in the Caribbean from January 12 to January 16, 2002. Platform Four, Under Siege: Four African Cities—Freetown, Johannesburg, Kinshasa, Lagos, took place in Lagos, Nigeria, from March 15 to March 21, 2002; and Platform Five, the final platform in the form of the exhibition in Kassel, was shown from June 8 to September 15, 2002. Together with his curatorial team, Enwezor sought to decentralize the exhibition format. As noted by Gardner and Green, Documenta11 thus painted a picture of contemporary art as a network in which metropoles of the Global South and the Global North were more or less equally important to the contemporary canon and similarly crucial to our understanding of contemporaneity, as opposed to some centers being perceived as exotic margins and others as more genuinely cosmopolitan and contemporary art scenes.¹⁶

By partly replacing Documenta's historical context in Kassel with other geopolitical contexts, and by employing that which Enwezor termed a strategy of "extraterritoriality," Documenta11 advanced a narrative of postcoloniality.¹⁷ Already, as the curator of Trade Routes: History and Geography, the title of the Second Johannesburg Biennale (1997), Enwezor had explored a similar method. In Johannesburg, he presented multiple exhibitions co-organized by a group of curators, a film program, and a symposium as an "open network of exchange," seeking to collectively produce knowledge about the sociopolitical processes of globalization.¹⁸ Moreover, in terms of focusing attention on how contemporary globalization relates politically to historical colonialism, Trade Routes: History and Geography can be said to have laid the ground for Documenta11's emphasis on the colonial origins of contemporary developments in global history and art. Thus, neither the curatorial method of conceptualizing a series of interconnected exhibition venues dispersed in time and space, nor the explicated agenda of exploring the historically rooted asymmetrical power relations between the Global South and the Global North, were entirely unprecedented in Enwezor's curatorial practice. The more robust institutional and financial foundation of Documenta11 did, however, enable him to develop the platforms model further and on a far larger geographical scale.

At the five platforms, participants from many different corners of the world contributed to the transdisciplinary production of knowledge and the articulation of critical discourses. More than eighty participants from different disciplines such as writers, political scientists, philosophers, artists, architects, lawyers, political activists, researchers, and other cultural practitioners engaged in lectures, debates, and panel discussions. It is important to note that Enwezor's stated intention of employing an "extraterritorial" strategy not only entailed a dispersal in terms of geopolitical territories, it also referred to a conscious attempt to destabilize and decentralize traditional notions of institutional frameworks and disciplinary boundaries. As Enwezor explained, "extraterritoriality" was enacted "firstly, by displacing its historical context in Kassel; secondly, by moving outside the domain of the gallery space to that of the discursive; and thirdly, by expanding the locus of the disciplinary models that constitute and define the project's intellectual and cultural interest."¹⁹

Importantly, in this context, the knowledge-producing activities of the first four platforms did not function as mere add-ons to the subsequent megaexhibition in Kassel or as preparatory discursive programs leading up to the actual curatorial event (even though each of them was either attended by audiences of insignificant size or by invitees only).²⁰ Nor were the conference books, which were published after the exhibition, viewed as mere documentations or as commodifiable end products. Rather, all the platforms were perceived by Enwezor as integral to and equally important components of the Documenta11 exhibition project. In this way, by conceptualizing Documenta11 as "a constellation of disciplinary models" and as a nonhierarchical network of discursively and conceptually interconnected platforms for knowledge production, spanning locations around the globe and taking place successively over the course of a whole year, Enwezor's curatorial practice effectively contributed to restructuring the exhibition venue and the interrelationship between exhibition and exhibition-related events in dynamic and explorative ways.²¹

Enwezor's curatorial approach resonates with more recent theories on curating as an active form of knowledge production. As curatorial theorist Simon Sheikh notes, curatorial practice does not necessarily take on the form of a traditional exhibition but employs "the thinking involved in exhibition-making and researching."²² In this way, curatorial practice is not merely perceived as a means of "putting on exhibitions" and "displaying works of art," as cultural theorist Irit Rogoff has termed it; rather, a shift of attention can be located toward the expanded notion of the curatoria1.²³ In their seminal anthology The Curatorial: A Philosophy of Curating, Rogoff and Jean-Paul Martinon argue for a distinction between curating and the curatorial: "If `curating' is a gamut of professional practices that had to do with setting up exhibitions and other modes of display, then 'the curatorial' operates at a very different level: it explores all that takes place on the stage set-up, both intentionally and unintentionally, by the curator and views it as an event of knowledge:”²⁴ The curatorial, then, is viewed as an analytical tool and a mode of critical knowledge production that may or may not involve the curating of exhibitions. As Sheikh has noted, it will, however, always include the modes of thinking and making curatorial constellations that can be drawn from the historical forms and practices of curating.²⁵ It might also be added that curating always involves research processes and knowledge production, albeit often of a somewhat different kind.²⁶ The notions of curating and the curatorial, therefore, we will argue, should not be viewed as oppositional categories that are mutually exclusive. Rather, they appear as related approaches that differ in degree with regard to the emphasis put on discursive practices, the expansion of formats, and the knowledge-producing events generated by curatorial agents, both intentionally and unintentionally.

Enwezor's curatorial projects such as Trade Routes: History and Geography, Documenta11, and, one might add in this context, All the World's Futures: 56th Biennale di Venezia (2015) were projects that sought to transgress traditional boundaries in terms of changing the norms of institutions, publics, exhibition venues, and forms of artistic practice. It should be noted, however, that Enwezor, in the two last-mentioned cases, operated from within the highly institutionalized contexts of mega-exhibitions, thus contributing to the booming of the global art industry and benefitting from substantial budgets, large audiences, and extensive media attention, as well as from the support of an established art world that was becoming increasingly preoccupied at this specific time in history with the postcolonial theories being circulated within academic fields.²⁷ Enwezor's curatorial projects were thus carried out as instances of criticality, embedded in the very same institutional structures he sought to transgress. Notwithstanding these reservations, Enwezor's curatorial projects clearly succeeded in setting up venues for wide-reaching, transculturally networked, and cross-disciplinary forms of knowledge production. In his own writing, Enwezor also reflected on his curatorial projects not solely as exhibitions but as unbounded practices seeking to experiment with various forms of public address and congregation:

As the quote indicates, Enwezor sought to expand the practices of curating as well as contest notions of the West as center. Concerning the first aspiration, his projects have clearly contributed to paving the way for more expansive, explorative, and knowledge-producing practices within the field of the curatorial. As for the last aspiration, however, Enwezor's postcolonial attempts to deconstruct Western-centric notions of art and curating have been both celebrated and subjected to severe criticism. Chin-tao Wu, for example, has taken a critical stance and argued that although the art projects staged at the Kassel exhibition in connection with Documenta11 were clearly intended to contest notions of the West as center, a surprisingly large number of the artists presented were from Europe and the United States.²⁹ Following this line of thought, Kobena Mercer has noted that Documenta11, despite its stated ambition to effectively decenter the art event, upon closer scrutiny turned out to rely first and foremost on familiar names from the international biennale circuit in order "to uphold what is by now a fairly conventional conception of global mélange."³⁰ Applying a more confrontational rhetoric, Sylvester Okwunodu Ogbechie has likewise argued that Enwezor advanced a very self-referential mode of curatorial practice "using limited numbers of artists recycled in closed-loop exhibitions:”³¹ Furthermore, Ogbechie accuses Enwezor of giving priority to African artists living and working in the West, thus locating Africa in the diaspora and producing ahistorical and decontextualized interpretations of contemporary African art. Africa, he states in his critique of Documenta11, "is everywhere but nowhere, essentially described in the discourse as a non-location."³² Similar criticisms have been raised by Peter Schjeldahl, Anthony Downey, and Oliver Marchart, among others.³³ They have, in different ways and from various vantage points, remained skeptical of Enwezor's capacity to counter hegemonic perceptions of center and periphery without subsuming, misrepresenting, and excluding artists from the Global South and turning postcolonial critique into mere spectacle and so-called festivalism.

These criticisms testify not only to the skepticism surrounding sponsored mega-events, but also to the fact that Documenta11 has been inscribed in exhibition history as a "postcolonial" event and thus linked to a critical tradition that has been seen by later decolonial theorists as a critical tradition spearheaded primarily by critical thinkers of non- Western backgrounds based within the West itself.³⁴ An illustrative example of this historicization is curator Maura Reilly's description of Documenta11 as the first Documenta "to employ a postcolonial curatorial strategy."³⁵ Similarly, Gardner and Green have summarized the "double perspective" of Documenta11 "in two words: postcolonialism and globalization," and curator Naomi Beckwith has added the overarching observation that, for Enwezor, "post-colonialism was an ethical position:"³⁶ Some of these criticisms reflect the fact that what in 2002 was perceived as a new ground-breaking "postcolonial" form of critique of the deep-seated colonial power structures of the art world and its institutions has since then become the object of a more radical type of critique that calls for profound epistemological and durational change - a liberating decolonization.³⁷ As will be explained in greater detail below, CAMP'S practice can be seen as an attempt to further develop Enwezor's curatorial strategy into exactly this type of profound and durable institutional change.

Without subscribing to the somewhat harsh criticism and envisioning Documenta11 as just another example of festivalism "mixing entertainment and soft-core politics," we acknowledge that curatorial work in a well-established, large-scale institution such as Documenta poses certain challenges in terms of having to negotiate potentially conflicting interests with funding bodies, marketing departments, et cetera.³⁸ Moreover, we concur with the assessment that changing not just the content but the very terms of exhibition making, that is, the rules of the game, requires a decolonization of the exhibitionary complex and the epistemological foundations of the institutionalized mega-exhibitions that have recalibrated the terms of production, distribution, and curating of contemporary art since the "biennale boom" of the 2000s. According to Gardner and Green, the curatorial team of Documenta 11 sought to achieve exactly this. Incorporating the discursive shift in critical terms from "postcolonial" to "decolonial," Gardner and Green in 2017 concluded that the curatorial team "advanced a narrative of decolonization over other narratives about the global, and Documenta11 did so thoroughly enough to have a genuinely historic impact on both artistic and curatorial practice."³⁹

At this juncture it should be noted that despite, or perhaps precisely because of, his collaboration with big institutions, several scholars and curators have ascribed to Enwezor an intent to do activist work within the institutions. The clearest example is probably Reilly. In her book Curatorial Activism: Towards an Ethics of Curating, she uses the term curatorial activists to define the work of professionals such as Enwezor and mentions both Documenta11 and All the World's Futures among her key examples. As our analysis of Documenta11 suggests, the character of Enwezor's curatorial work is captured well by Reilly's definition of curatorial activists as "people who have dedicated their curatorial endeavors almost exclusively to visual culture in, of, and from the margins: that is, to artists who are non-white, non-Euro-US, as well as women-, feminist- and queer-identified. These curators, and others in similar fields, have committed themselves to initiatives that are leveling hierarchies, challenging assumptions, countering erasure, promoting the margins over the center and the minority over the majority, inspiring intelligent debate, disseminating new knowledge, and encouraging strategies of resistance - all of which offers hope and affirmation."⁴⁰

Although we recognize that curators always work within certain financial, structural, and political constrictions, we propose that the Western institutional circumscription of their work is not always so tight where small-scale, (semi-)independent art spaces are concerned. Whereas museums and largescale exhibitions such as biennials, triennials, and Documenta tend to gain extensive media attention and reach large international audiences, they often also—partly because of these very effects—end up being restricted by local politicians, sponsors, and marketing departments trying to avoid dealing with explicitly political, and therefore potentially divisive, issues such as asylum, immigration, integration, displacement, and forced deportation. Small-scale institutions and art spaces working with lower budgets, smaller audiences, and less political attention can, on the other hand, experience a comparatively higher degree of curatorial freedom when seeking to address such conflict-sensitive issues. This may provide them with a greater scope for contesting the boundaries and limitations of Western systems, and they may, therefore, offer curators a more fertile ground for implementing Enwezor's vision of curating as an unbounded practice that enables cultural producers to experiment with different forms of public address and congregation, which may but do not have to be linked to exhibition making.

In what follows, we will test and substantiate this claim by examining CAMP.⁴¹ Although there are no direct links between Enwezor and CAMP, we submit that, as a nonprofit institution operating on a significantly smaller scale, CAMP succeeded in radically developing the kind of critical curatorial model envisioned by Enwezor by linking it to activism, prolonging its duration in order to create more sustainable infrastructures for those involved, and embedding it in politically engaged community work. Furthermore, as a postmigrant public space, CAMP has a strong precedent in Enwezor's conceptualization of Documenta11 as "a constellation of public spheres" and his idea of the exhibition as "a forum of public discovery of art's potential in the face of difficulty and the inscrutable."⁴² As a space for critical engagement with the world (rather than a space of autonomy and withdrawal), the exhibition is, Enwezor argues, embedded in the world as "a space of public discourse," and it "can no more assert a distance from its cultural context than it can repress the very social condition that brings it into dialogue with its diverse publics."⁴³

We would like to suggest that Kuratorisk Aktion actively used their situatedness in Denmark. They used it as an incentive to found a themed-based exhibition venue dedicated to showing artworks that articulate radical critiques of Western immigration, refugee, and asylum politics—a place that reflects on the experience of forced migration while also seeking to stimulate sympathetic encounters and greater understanding between displaced people and the Danish public(s).⁴⁴ As the curators stated: "The objective is, through art, to stimulate greater understanding between displaced people and the communities that receive them—and to stimulate new visions for a more inclusive and equitable migration, refugee, and asylum policy."⁴⁵

This curatorial mission was effectively communicated ever since CAMP'S inaugural exhibition in April 2015, Camp Life: Artistic Reflections on the Politics of Refugee and Migrant Detention. It opened with Rwandan activist, artist, and fashion designer Dady de Maximo's political fashion show If the Sea Could Talk (2014), a tribute to the thousands of migrants and refugees who have drowned in the Mediterranean Sea, or died elsewhere, trying to reach safety. The mixed audience of gallerygoers, artists, intellectuals, and activists, along with refugees, asylum-seekers, regular users, volunteers, and staff of Trampoline House, were confronted with a show presenting grand dresses sewn of rice bags from United Nations refugee camps, men's outfits combining satin and life jackets, and accessories made from barbed wire and bast. De Maximo's thought-provoking use of the language of fashion conjured up the friction of multiple, conflicting associations, spanning the drama of rescue and survival to the kinds of societal and environmental crises that necessitate humanitarian aid and refugee camps; to the debilitating wait in asylum centers fenced-off from society; and to the dream of a good life, safety, and affluence that may help refugees and asylum seekers overcome the ordeal they are going through.46 The intimate connection between the mission of the art space and the purpose of the community center was obvious from the start.

The history of Trampoline House indicates how this unusual combination of spaces, functions, and objectives came into being. The house was founded in 2009-10, as a critical response to Danish refugee and asylum policies, by artists Joachim Hamou and Morten Goll (who later channeled and transformed his artistic and activist skills into his work as the executive director of Trampoline House), together with curator Tone Olaf Nielsen and a large group of asylum seekers, art students, activists, and volunteering professionals.⁴⁷ The initiative thus came from "artivists," and thanks to Nielsen's participation, Kuratorisk Aktion had been involved already in the early development of the house.

Camp Life marked the beginning of the center's two-year exhibition program Migration Politics, which presented a series of six exhibitions between 2015 and 2017 that were both locally relevant and internationally significant. The program included a range of artistic responses to displacement, migratory routes, border politics, refugee and migrant detention, undocumented migration, deportation, and visions for alternative migration and asylum policies.⁴⁸ The works were created by artists, artist groups, and social networks that originated from many different countries and in many cases had firsthand experience of displacement, migration, and asylum seeking.⁴⁹

In 2017, Kuratorisk Aktion produced its first pop-up project (with homeless migrants) in collaboration with the Copenhagen-based community radio, the Bridge Radio, for the annual Roskilde Festival, in Denmark, one of the largest music festivals in Europe.⁵⁰ The year before, the collective had entered into an agreement with another major cultural institution when it "exported" a constellation of three of its exhibitions to the Statens Museum for Kunst (SMK), the National Gallery of Denmark, thereby reaching audiences other than those who found their way to Trampoline House. Besides the opening show Camp Life, the SMK exhibition comprised The Dividing Line: Film and Performance about Border Control and Border Crossing (2016) and From the Mountains to the Valleys, From the Deserts to the Seas: Journeys of Historical Uncertainty (2015), a solo exhibition by Tiffany Chung (Vietnam). The latter was originally shown at CAMP in the autumn of 2015, coinciding with Enwezor's inclusion of Chung's The Syrian Project (2011-15) in his exhibition All the World's Futures at the Biennale di Venezia of that year, an exhibition that shared CAMP'S focus on refugees and humanitarian crises caused by large-scale forced displacements. Chung's 2015 exhibition at CAMP also included works from The Syrian Project, in which Chung had meticulously gathered statistics about the then rising numbers of war casualties and internationally displaced Syrians and translated these data into delicately painted and embroidered maps, wherein the size and the colors of dots indicated the extend of the crisis.⁵¹

In 2018, Kuratorisk Aktion initiated a new two-year exhibition program, State of Integration: Artistic Analyses of the Challenges of Coexistence (2018-20), which reflected three important changes in their curatorial practice. First, there was a shift of emphasis away from the politics and experience of migration toward those of integration and other long-term effects of migration. Second, they entered into collaboration with internationally renowned figures such as curator and art historian Temi Odumosu (United Kingdom/Sweden) and visual culture theorist and activist Nicholas Mirzoeff (United States). The second program thus comprised a mixture of ambitious guest-curated group shows and small solo exhibitions in which Kuratorisk Aktion spotlighted emerging practitioners, mostly with migrant or refugee experience. Third, to further strengthen and develop their existing educational activities, Kuratorisk Aktion established CAMP education!, a platform of knowledge dissemination geared toward producing educational material for school teachers and other educators as well as continuing the existing gallery guide education program to enable asylum seekers, migrants, refugees, and minority ethnic Danes to become part of CAMP'S guide team.⁵² The educational focus reflects the proximity of CAMP'S mission to Enwezor's vision: State of Integration can be seen as an emphatically local, context-sensitive implementation of Enwezor's vision of curating as a flexible form of knowledge production that enables cultural producers to use different forms of public address and congregation.

The exhibitions presented within the framework of CAMP spanned a wide variety of formats, aesthetic sensibilities, and modes of address. We have selected two group exhibitions that are emblematic of these differences: Decolonizing Appearance and Threshold(s), curated, respectively, by Mirzoeff and Odumosu as part of the exhibition program State of Integration.

Thematically, Mirzoeff's Decolonizing Appearance (2018) focused on how appearance is used to classify, segregate, and rule human beings on a hierarchical scale in today's colonially structured world, as well as on how this regime can be actively challenged. Through photography, video, installation, and text, the exhibition created constellations of art projects reflecting on the issue of appearance within the power matrix of "the colonial": for example, in the case of Jane Jin Kaisen's staged family portrait The Andersons, the dynamic within the transnational adoptive family is reversed by portraying a supposedly Asian American couple with their nineyear-old Danish-born daughter. Other examples included Carl Pope's poster installation The Bad Air Smelled of Roses, which reflects on Black pride and queer identity, and Dread Scott's performance still I Am Not a Man, which paraphrases the 1968 Memphis sanitation workers' strike in the United States, where the iconic "I Am a Man" sign originated, to comment critically on the advances of the civil rights movement in today's racialized societies.

Decolonizing Appearance addressed the powerrelated issues of appearance not only by presenting art projects in the exhibition space of CAMP, but also through the conversations and discussions instigated by the projects. In addition, Mirzoeff and CAMP experimented with discursively oriented and activist approaches to curating in a series of politically mobilizing exhibition-related events conducted in Trampoline House, which enabled these events to create so-called spillovers, as Kuratorisk Aktion has termed it, into the social contact zone of the community center.⁵³ For example, the Decolonizing Assembly was organized and led by Amin Husain and Nitasha Dhillon of the New York-based MTL Collective, which joins research and activism with artistic practice.⁵⁴ MTL created a forum for asking politically mobilizing questions such as, How can the colonized have the right to look, the right to be seen—in short, the right to appear? What would happen when appearance is decolonized? What has to happen for decolonizing to take place where you live? The last question was emblematic of how DecoIonizing Appearance, and in particular MTUs assembly, sought to address its public. The "you" being addressed is a virtual "you" that could be inhabited by persons with different positionalities. Crucially, on that particular day, it implicated a heterogeneous mix of people participating in the assembly on the history of colonialism and the current call for decolonization that included those who declared themselves as sympathizers, those critically inclined toward the activist approach of MTL Collective, and those situated somewhere in between these positions.⁵⁵ MTL Collective's assembly thus anticipated and called forth a heterogeneous public of different national backgrounds and political positionalities in a way that resonated with many of the other components of the exhibition. What the participants had in common was a willingness to actively respond to the exhibition's proposition of how we are all entangled in the unfinished history of colonial relations and regimes of appearance. Similarly, partisan approaches to art and politically mobilizing modes of address characterized many of the other exhibition-related events such as the collaborative production of banners initiated by MTL Collective; the happening We Are Here - Marronage Is Resistance, performed by the decolonial feminist collective Marronage; and the workshop Naturalizations: Facial Politics and Decolonial Aesthetics, conducted by artist and Duke University Professor Pedro Lasch. Decolonizing Appearance can thus be said to present a turn toward what political theorist Oliver Marchart has termed activist art, which he understands to be art that employs strategies of political activism in the attempt to stage counter-hegemonic struggles, leave the art institution behind, and form new alliances of solidarity.⁵⁶

Marchart distinguishes activist art from critical art, that is, art that seeks to critique and to instigate hegemonic shifts of critical practices from a position within the very structures and constrictions of art institutions. In contradistinction to art activism, critical artists consider these institutions to be platforms for intervening in dominant discourses, or, in Marchart's words, "potentially powerful counterhegemonic machines whose symbolic efficacy must not be underestimated.”⁵⁷ This category offers a more accurate description of the type of criticality and aesthetics represented in Temi Odumosu's Threshold(s) (2019-20). This exhibition with five Nordic artists of color explored female experiences of displacement and exile, in particular, how memories and the residual effects (and affects) of colonialism "travel" with migrants or are transferred intergenerationally as "postmemory," an embodied and also mediated heritage that crosses national and temporal boundaries to inhabit contemporary bodies, identities, languages, cultures, and everyday life.⁵⁸ In Threshold(s), the emphasis was on neither the journey nor the arrival but on the state of being in-between polarities and what it entails to produce critical art from that positionality, fueled by the dynamics of postcolonial agony, emotional ambivalence, and complex diasporic relations to places both in and beyond the Nordic countries. As Odumosu explained in the catalogue, the exhibition was an invitation to consider "how a modern body can also be a colonial document" and to explore "the politics and poetics of relation."⁵⁹ In this case, the institutional platform of the gallery served as a "counterhegemonic machine," providing female artists of color with the necessary public space and visibility for their critique of "inter-racial" relations in Scandinavia to enter into the public discourse on racialization, racism, and racist violence in which the local Danish problems are usually minimized and their very existence sometimes denied.⁶⁰

Odumosu's objectives mark the other end of the curatorial spectrum at CAMP. As Mathias Danbolt has pointed out, "curatorial modes of address can condition and produce alternative forms of publics."⁶¹ The objective of Mirzoeff's confrontational address was to decolonize and inspire antiracist activist mobilization, although Marronage has attacked his exhibition for merely "decolonizing appearance" for "the white gaze," as the majority of art-interested visitors to the gallery were likely to be white Danes.⁶² On the contrary, the intended public produced by Odumosu's sensuous, evocative, but not any less critical exhibition address was, we submit, a mixed audience. The exhibition's "entangled herstories" invited empathic, bodily responses from everyone and also offered a plurality of intersecting points of identification for non-white and female visitors.⁶³ An emblematic example is Swedish Ethiopian Saba Bereket Persson's THE UNSPOKEN: About Unconscious Discrimination (2015/2019), an installation of mannequins carrying costumes covered with sacks heavy from the unknown burdens they both conceal and expose. The centerpiece of the installation was a video of dancer Mpululu Ntuve dressed in one of the costumes, her contorted movements giving bodily expression to Persson's experiences of living in Scandinavia with a different skin color than white, accompanied by a voiceover that summarizes the results of a scientific survey of common prejudices about Black people in Sweden.

Like Decolonizing Appearance, Threshold(s) included the staging of discursive and artistic events at "dislocated" platforms embedded in Trampoline House. The most important one was the opening. As usual on Fridays, Trampoline House was crowded with regular users. It is no coincidence that the Threshold(s) catalogue includes snapshots documenting the conviviality, the mingling, the mixed community. As the evening's attraction included not only the weekly community dinner followed by a party with disc jockeys and bar but also CAMP'S opening event, they were joined by artists and exhibitiongoers. Navigating through the hallway where children were playing, the newly arrived would pass the kitchen, the smell of freshly cooked food evoking anticipation of the pleasure of eating the treats cooked by Sisters' Cuisine. They would also pass by the open door to the meeting room, where Yong Sun Gullach's performance was to take place, before entering the big multipurpose room, the heart and hearth of Trampoline House that brings the community together. Among other things, this space had a bar and an area with café tables where people could gather to talk to friends and strangers, play chess, and, later that night, have dinner. This was also where Odumosu gave her opening speech, and Maria Thandie and Deodato Siquir performed Afro-fusion music that spread a meditative atmosphere and resonated with the introspective atmosphere of the exhibition. Although the music was soothing, it did not serve the purpose of repressing frictions and politics but rather extended the reparative work, performed by Odumosu's exhibition, into Trampoline House. Just before the live music started, Tone Olaf Nielsen announced the arrival of the bus that was to take parents and children from the Danish deportation center, Sjxlsmark, back to the center. If people did not know already that the rejected asylum seekers living under appalling conditions at Sjaelsmark were among those who used the house as a brief respite from camp life, they would learn it at the opening event. The encounters between asylum seekers, local Copenhageners, and the professional art crowd were not devoid of friction, but it is remarkable that CAMP and Trampoline House managed to facilitate the interweaving of such a heterogenous mix of people. Odumosu's exhibition address, with its affective and empathic ways of engaging with the Other as a human being, was finely tuned to connect to, even blend into, this local microcommunity. CAMP'S creation of such spaces of coming together can be seen as a response to the need to imagine public spaces anew as, what we have termed, postmigrant public spaces. Before unpacking this concept, we must first address the question of extraterritoriality.

Refocusing attention on Enwezor's aforementioned concept of extraterritoriality, it becomes clear that CAMP activated, although in different ways and other contexts, all three aspects of this term. First, a deterritorializing strategy was employed, combining exhibitions at CAMP and various kinds of exhibition- related activities extending into Trampoline House, with the creation of platforms for political interventions at multiple other locations. An example is Castaway Souls of Sjælsmark's contribution to the group exhibition The Dividing Line (2016). Here the transnational group of rejected asylum seekers from Sjælsmark not only presented a performance in connection with the opening of the exhibition, but they also conducted so-called meetings of mobilization at CAMP, where the harsh conditions of rejected asylum seekers were debated and collective calls for action were articulated.⁶⁴ These meetings resulted in participants contributing to the public campaign For the Right to Have Rights!, which demanded an end to forced deportations, the closure of asylum camps, a stop to the criminalization of migrants and asylum seekers, and the right to move and to stay. The following year, CAMP also teamed up with the Copenhagen-based community radio project, the Bridge Radio, to produce a sound installation and a live event in close collaboration with homeless migrants who make a living collecting and selling bottles in Copenhagen. As mentioned previously, this project, focusing on the precarious life situations of migrant workers in Denmark, was presented at Roskilde Festival in the summer of 2017, thus relocating the activities of CAMP to a site outside of Copenhagen and addressing different publics than the ones congregating on a more regular basis in and around Trampoline House. As these cases emphasize, CAMP'S activities were thus spatially dispersed and activated a multiplicity of platforms over time by means of educational, activist, and installation-based activities, and they were underpinned by a curatorial activist intent, as were those of Enwezor.

Second, CAMP often performed an extraterritorial shift from the domain of the gallery space to that of the discursive. Such discursive programming could, for example, include talks, workshops, seminars, and guided tours of the exhibitions conducted by users of Trampoline House. Third, CAMP'S curatorial practice also resonated with Enwezor's attempt to expand "the locus of the disciplinary models" that constitute and define a given project's intellectual and cultural interest.⁶⁵ Like Documenta11's platforms, CAMP'S various exhibition-related activities drew on participants from a wide spectrum of disciplines. Thus, the discursive programming at CAMP can be said to have transgressed disciplinary boundaries, seeking to set up platforms for widereaching, transculturally networked, and cross-disciplinary forms of knowledge production related to contemporary migration politics.

Some of CAMP'S events were realized at well-established and large-scale Danish art institutions such as the Statens Museum for Kunst and the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art.⁶⁶ Although CAMP'S curatorial team has reflected explicitly on the potential dangers of being coopted into such transinstitutional collaborations, it continued to operate within these museological contexts, partly because the collaborations provided much-needed possibilities of funding and partly because they enabled CAMP to reach more extensive audiences, thus potentially broadening the scope of the center's curatorially staged political interventions.⁶⁷ Concerning the effects of these transinstitutional collaborations, we argue that CAMP'S presence at the Statens Museum and the Louisiana Museum has not impacted the museums' institutional practices in any substantial way. Producing such counter-hegemonic effects would have necessitated long-term engagements as well as more active negotiations of the power relations between the institutions. This reservation aside, the collaborations evidently led to new audiences being exposed to CAMP'S curatorial projects. The collaboration with the Statens Museum also enabled the free transfer of museum visitors to the lesser known exhibition site of CAMP, and vice versa, in connection with singular events such as the opening of Migration Politics: Three CAMP Exhibitions. Although collaborations with large-scale museums were initiated, the majority of CAMP'S discursive activities still took place at Trampoline House in order to ensure a close intertwinement with the regular activities of the community center and the multicultural mix of users that constituted its microcommunity.

This constant interweaving of CAMP'S activities and those of Trampoline House played a pivotal role in the curatorial production of what we have termed postmigrant public spaces.⁶⁸ CAMP'S activities materialized in both physical and media spaces and comprised different kinds of aesthetic, social, and intellectual participation; public discourse; activism; political protest; and acts of solidarity. Taking these spatiotemporal ramifications and the functional diversification into account, we define public space broadly. We call the kind of public spaces generated by CAMP "postmigrant" to indicate that they are plural and sometimes conflictual domains of human encounter, shaped under the impact of former and ongoing (im)migration and by the new and old forms of nationalism that have gained ground under the combined pressures of global capitalism, increasing economic inequity, and the rising numbers of migrants and refugees.⁶⁹ Unlike the notion of the nation as a public sphere, the designator postmigrant does not draw imaginary national borders around a public. On the contrary, it foregrounds transcultural entanglement, which is a further reason why this concept is apt for describing the particularity of CAMP as a public art space existing within a community center that was itself a postmigrant public space, albeit of a different kind.

Our understanding of publics draws on queer and literary theorist Michael Warner's theory of publics and his argument that a public "exists by virtue of being addressed"; that is, a public is "a special kind of virtual social object enabling a special mode of address."⁷⁰ In the context of this study, it is significant that Warner underscores that a public, in the modern sense of the word, also embraces strangers and outsiders—in fact, anyone who feels the topic of the address "speaks to" them. It should also be noted that Enwezor used the term public sphere while we prefer public space, first, because we draw on Chantal Mouffe's notion of democratic public spaces as inherently conflictual spaces, and, second, because we are concerned with a specific art space and local community, not the public sphere as a wideranging "communication framework of the 'body public,' a sphere of channels of opinion-circulation binding and protecting its constituent publics," to quote communications scholar Slavko Splichal.⁷¹

The concept of postmigration (das Postmigrantische) is a recent addition to the reservoir ofcritical terms in the humanities and the social sciences. It holds that Europe has been irreversibly shaped by immigration since the mid-twentieth century; that is, the concept relates to the after- (post-) effects of migration on society, not population movements as such. Postmigrant thinking articulates a realization that new conceptual frameworks are needed to address this complex historical condition and develop egalitarian, antiracist institutional policies of democratic participation.⁷² With regard to the concept of postmigrant public spaces, it designates spaces that have their anchor point within a democratic nationstate where migration has been a crucial trigger for social and cultural transformations. These changes have turned society into what Foroutan has called a "society of negotiation," where structural discrimination, privileges, resources, and norms, along with national identity and the terms of belonging to the imagined community of the nation, are being critically renegotiated. Importantly, according to the proponents of postmigrant thinking, it is not only immigrants and their descendants, but also the well-established "elites" who are expected to adjust to and integrate themselves into the new pluralist structure.⁷³ This aspect of the postmigrant reconstitution of society and the social imaginary came to the fore in Trampoline House and CAMP. As multicultural and multilingual environments that facilitate face-to-face encounters between displaced people and the receiving communities, they testify to the fact that postmigrant public spaces can never be confined to "the nation" as a public sphere. Such spaces always exist in a dynamic, transcultural relationship with people, discourses, and cultures that hail from places beyond the nation-state.

As explained above, Enwezor conceived Documenta11 "not as an exhibition but as a constellation of public spheres" whose activities unfold within "the domain of the discursive rather than the museological."⁷⁴ The same could be said about CAMP. In both cases, the curatorial activities aimed at generating publics rather than audiences of art spectators, although the exhibitions also did just this!⁷⁵ This ambition is almost programmatically reflected in the first four Documenta11 platforms, which did not include works of art or reach publics beyond those who attended the local events until the conference books were disseminated through international book distribution channels. The ambition to produce publics and to "activate moments of communal publicness" was also evident in the way in which Kuratorisk Aktion worked from a position of embeddedness and solidarity.⁷⁶ They consciously orchestrated CAMP'S activities in Trampoline House to attract and interweave different kinds of people. In doing so, CAMP succeeded in engendering postmigrant public spaces that were relatively open forums, providing the indefinite publics that emerged within them with a place to thematize, discuss, and act on issues related to forced migration, asylum seeking, and integration, as well as exploring how art can stimulate engagements with these issues and foster solidarity among people.

How did CAMP negotiate latent conflicts and enhance the potential for bridge building among the heterogeneous mix of individuals who constituted the gallery's public(s)? As already suggested in the outline of CAMP'S activities, the public spaces generated at CAMP had a distinctive local quality, since the center's regular visitors mainly lived in the Copenhagen area. CAMP'S strategy of public engagement thus relied on the possibility of face-toface interaction and on addressing, in a politically active way, migration and integration issues that were of interest to the refugees and asylum-seekers of Trampoline House, who remained the primary intended audience for CAMP'S exhibitions, despite the fact that it was mostly the art audience that set foot in the exhibition space. Nevertheless, the persistent insistence on catering for the Trampoline House community is significant. Although it has proved difficult to entice the majority of Trampoline House users to enter the "other space" of the gallery, CAMP found ways to reach out to them and get different groups to mingle. This was done by consciously seeking to present art projects that did not exclude the users of Trampoline House due to language barriers or to excessive use of codifications specifically related to the art world. As Kuratorisk Aktion has stated, "We look for artworks that do not involve too much language and that are not too conceptual, because we're not just talking to a professional art audience, we also address people in the house who have no training or maybe a different training in understanding contemporary art. While English is the most commonly used language in the international art world, this might be only the fourth or fifth language to some of our audiences."⁷⁷

Creating a heterogeneous contact zone where Trampoline House users and art audiences could intermingle was also achieved by launching the educational program Talking about Art. By means of this program, members of the community of Trampoline House who were interested in learning how to become gallery guides were recruited and participated in self-organized workshops, studied the exhibitions about to be mounted, and coauthored guide manuscripts that they subsequently performed in duos throughout the exhibition periods!⁷⁸ In this way, encounters were staged within the exhibition space that effectively challenged the binaries of inclusion and exclusion, guest and host. Last but not least, getting different groups to come into contact within the curatorial framework of CAMP was made possible by coorganizing performances, film screenings, and public debates and opening events in the familiar environment of Trampoline House, which its users regarded as their space.⁷⁹ These events offered platforms for democratic participation, aesthetic experience, and raising and sharing sensibilities while discussing (or listening to discussions), as well as for informal conversations and sociability. It could thus be argued that the art events in Trampoline House, and the guided tours of the exhibitions by refugees and asylum seekers, constituted the crucial contact zones where art and curating facilitated transcultural exchange between refugees, asylum seekers, local Copenhageners, and (inter)national art audiences.

Returning to the question of how CAMP imagined public space otherwise, that is, as a contact zone for local Copenhageners (privileged) and asylum seekers (subaltern), it is important to stress that this contact zone was not primarily a space for rational-critical debate, although the premises sometimes fulfilled this purpose, but rather a space of coming together that made possible intersubjeclive encounters that would leave affective traces; provoke reflection; and might even sow the seeds of sympathy, solidarity, and pro-asylum seeker and antiracist activism. Drawing on Jurgen Habermas's, Chantal Mouffe's, and Michael Warner's theorization of the public sphere, art historian and curator Alpesh Kantilal Patel submits that there is a need for "a public sphere (whether agonistic or counter)" that assigns a defining part to embodied, affective sociability in public dialogue. Importantly, Patel suggests that in such spaces of coming together, the artistic practices (and, we may add, the curatorial practices by which artworks are usually mediated) "can be envisioned as making felt - if only transient - connections among different, perhaps conflicting, counterpublics or subjects.”⁸⁰

Although CAMP'S discursive events had a strong oral and local component, they were also communicated and expanded through the use of the center's website, exhibition catalogues (both printed and online), social media, and, sometimes, news media. In order to better grasp the implications of Kuratorisk Aktion's work, however, we need to look beyond CAMP. In 2011, Paul O'Neill and Claire Doherty identified a "durational approach" in public art, based on case studies of temporally extended art projects that prioritize spatial and public forms of expression and knowledge production and develop methods of working that dissolve the boundaries between artistic and curatorial modes of thinking, researching, and organizing.⁸¹ Because of their long timespan, O'Neill observes, such enduring projects engender "a complex set of interactions." This suggests that they are capable of creating and sustaining a certain connectivity" among their participants and publics, that is, a deeper form of engagement that "aspires to create an ethos of patience, perseverance and attentiveness" at odds with the usual grind of globalized exhibition making and the fleeting encounters between audiences and artworks in transit between venues.⁸² As Andrea Baldini submits, "enduring artworks" - and curatorial projects, we might add - "are important since they provide the opportunity to engage members of public-art publics in a more sustained and intense way, thus promoting more structured forms of discussions."⁸³ As a long-term thematic curatorial project, CAMP operated along similar lines, generating different and repeated forms of coming-together that engaged many different actors in "an exchange of ideas as part of an initiated process of potential transformation."⁸⁴ Such open-ended processes permitted conflicts and tensions to surface, but they also allowed for the building of solidarity and what Foroutan has termed postmigrant alliances, that is, strategic bridge building between migrant and nonmigrant actors who pursue a common goal. By bringing together different people based on a shared experience (for example, of migration, racism, or discrimination) or a common ethical stance on migration and diversity, postmigrant alliances enable new interest-based relationships to develop "beyond homogenous peer groups." By blurring the boundaries, these alliances between people of different heritage and citizenship status have the potential to restructure the understanding of identity and belonging because "other nonethnic principles are promoted in order to undermine the legitimacy of ethnic, national, or racial boundaries."⁸⁵

We would like to conclude this tracing of Enwezor's legacy from Documenta11 to CAMP in Trampoline House with a glimpse of the future and a possible closing of the circle of curatorial inspiration. As mentioned in the introduction, Kuratorisk Aktion's participation in the preparation of documenta fifteen resulted in the closure of CAMP, but this is not the end of the story. While Frederikke Hansen joined ruangrupa's curatorial team in 2019, Tone Olaf Nielsen chose to stay in her program director position at Trampoline House, partly to program the house, partly to coordinate Trampoline House's contribution to documenta fifteen in collaboration with a group of Trampoline House representatives.⁸⁶ Despite Trampoline House's un- fortunate closure at the end of 2020, the house will remain in documenta fifteen and use it as a platform to communicate the history, knowledges, and methods of the house; create a temporary solution for Trampoline House's users; create awareness of discriminatory migration policies; and develop a plan for a new more sustainable Trampoline House. What further transmutations of Enwezor's legacy will result from this folding of CAMP and Trampoline House into Documenta remains, at the time of writing, an open question.

This study of the legacy of Okwui Enwezor has pursued the idea that small-scale art spaces may offer more fertile conditions for making Enwezor's vision materialize and for transforming curatorial initiatives into political platforms. We have demonstrated how the participation of CAMP'S audiences and the users of Trampoline House diverged from that of traditional visually oriented spectatorship and, instead, approximated a form of civil practice enacted by individuals as citizens or denizens. The durational character of this small-scale institution's curatorial engagement with migration, that is, its long-term commitment to the development of solidarity, accountability, and sustainable institutional structures, including the setting up of so-called support systems for participants, plays an important part in this shift. It enabled CAMP to experiment with varying forms of public address and congregation embedded in politically engaged community work, sometimes linked to activism. Crucially, it was the relationship between the different projects and events in the same place across time that enabled the activities to cohere synergistically as their effects accumulated and produced transitory constituencies that supported CAMP'S continual work toward more equitable migration, refugee, and asylum policies.

Sabine Dahl Nielsen is a postdoc at the Department of Arts and Cultural Studies, University of Copenhagen, Denmark. Anne Ring Petersen is a professor of modern culture and contemporary art at the University of Copenhagen.

We would like to thank editors Jane Chin Davidson and Alpesh Kantilal Patel for constructive and insightful comments on an earlier version of this essay and extend our gratitude to the Novo Nordisk Foundation's Committee on Research in Art and Art History for supporting the research on which this article is based (grant NNF 19OC0053992). An earlier version of the section on postmigrant public spaces was published in CAMP Status! Seven Years of Engaging Art on Migration Politics, ed. Frederikke Hansen and Tone Olaf Nielsen (Copenhagen: CAMP/Center for Art on Migration Politics, 2020). Last, but important, a warm thank you to Frederikke Hansen and Tone Olaf Nielsen for giving an interview and for generously allowing us to use images from CAMP.