By the late 1980s, America’s sanctioning body of professional football, the National Football League (NFL), successfully implemented a means of utilizing instant replay to allow referees to change their call made on the field if deemed flawed by subsequent video analysis. This decision consummated what had been an evolving relationship between media and sports—a partnership which began generations earlier and has become deeper and more complex over time.  What once were mutually exclusive operations (the players competing, and the media broadcasting) were now intertwined. Although precursors to instant replay technology dates back to the late nineteenth century with Eadweard Muybridge’s sequential photographs of animals and humans in fast motion, the application of instant replay as we know it today emerged in the 1960s along with the advent of Pete Rozelle’s televised NFL.  Fans at home watching the television broadcast of a game were treated not only to real-time live motion video, but also, increasingly, to instant replays from multiple angles shown just moments after a play.  For years, images that referees and players were not privy to were seen by television audiences. Botched calls—discovered only through slow-motion, close-up replay—which wrongly determined the outcome of a game, took on a life of their own in the sphere of public opinion. Such mistakes were discussed and ridiculed ad nauseam by fans and the media, and games won under questionable terms affected the image and perception of both teams involved. Still, because the game itself occurred within the walls of a stadium, these technological and commercial forces were kept at bay.  By the time stadiums started being fitted with gigantic video screens—precursors to the impressive JumboTrons now ubiquitous—spectators in the stands, as well as players, coaches, and referees, could now see the same replays available to fans watching television at home.

With this new elephant in the stadium, human error by referees became intolerable. Of course, the league endured several seasons of blown calls—with fans, players, coaches, and the mistaken referees themselves, seeing the evidence on the stadium screen—before an acceptable instant replay policy was implemented. Although it initially met with some resistance by football purists threatened by the intervention of technology into a game they believed should be determined by the physical actions of players and the subjective judgment of the referees, in 1986 the inevitable happened. Coaches were given the ability to challenge a referee’s call, and the referee was sent to review the play by watching network television footage. Ultimately, the call could be overturned if the replay showed conclusive evidence that the ruling on the field was incorrect. What resulted was a peculiar spectacle, and a different kind of suspense for the game of football.  A coach’s challenge brings the game to a screeching halt, shifting focus to one man—the referee—hunched over a video monitor on the sideline, head concealed underneath a black hood reviewing the play, while the theme song to Jeopardy pumps through the stadium sound system. After a tense waiting period, the referee steps away from the screen having made his decision, and walks onto the field to address the stadium crowd. “Upon further review…” the referee begins his ceremonial delivery. The stadium is overcome with a hush of anticipation wondering if the play will stand or be overruled. The referee continues, “Upon further review the replay shows conclusive evidence that the player had control of the ball with both feet in-bounds. The call on the field has been overruled. Touchdown.” And the crowd goes wild.

The significance of this moment in sports is far-reaching. The referee’s own judgment is called into question and often the evidence supports the legitimacy of the inquiry. The human element becomes secondary to the objective view of the camera—literally dehumanizing the event—and the allowance of technology and media to intercede suggests a susceptibility of sports to other outside forces.

Upon further review is a phrase that is now permanently in the vernacular of American football, and is immediately familiar to its audience. The same expression also serves to introduce and invoke the attitude of the nine artists in this exhibition who examine the intersection of sports and society in their work. As we saw above, a referee uses instant replay to review a play in slow-motion and from different angles to change a call made on the field, or perhaps even the outcome of a game. Likewise, contemporary artists influenced by the social aspects of sports appropriate the language of the sports industry (often using video and photography) in order to critique it, and in the process comment on broader social issues.  This exhibition does not purport to be a complete survey of sports and society in contemporary art, nor could it possibly account for all strands of society and culture. There is an attempt, however, to articulate a range of backgrounds and interests in a relatively small group exhibition.  The artists are of diverse backgrounds and come from six different countries and four continents, inferring commonality among global cultures that is inherent to culture itself.

Sports are deeply integrated into many cultural traditions. Much like art and religion, sports is a social structure that defines society from within. The Aztecs played a form of basketball in which the losing team was killed at the end of the game, uniting ceremony, religious ritual, and cultural identity. In modern times, much of the violence has been transformed into socially acceptable losses that are cheered or booed as the game progresses. In light of this, it’s impossible to ignore more recent examples of violence and sports. Fans of European Football have been notorious instigators of violence, as demonstrated by the 1985 catastrophe at the European Cup where 39 people were trampled or crushed to death when Liverpool fans stormed the stands of rival Italy. After the 1994 FIFA World Cup, Colombian player Andreas Escobar was murdered by a gunman outside a Columbian bar just days after accidentally scoring a point on his own goal and losing in a first round match to the United States. And recently, fan and player violence escalated to a level unfamiliar in America, when members of the Indiana Pacers basketball team jumped into the stands in Detroit to fight opposing fans.

Some evidence of the globalization of sports, and therefore the universal nature of its traditions, can be seen in the exportation of western sports. For example, the FIFA World Cup was held in Asia for the first time in 2002, co-hosted by Japan and South Korea. The implications of this were profound: two countries historically engaged in conflict with one another, and both subject to western imperialism in their recent history, were united to co-host an event of western origin. In dramatic fashion, and in front of their home crowd, South Korea earned a trip to the semifinals (unprecedented for an Asian country) where they played Germany.  Though they lost in a closely fought match, the event was a watershed moment for global sports indicating the blurring of cultural boundaries while amplifying the dynamic social forces of the world. The news media spends as much time discussing sports (both on the field heroism, and off the field scandal) as any other current event. The 2004 World Series was the most popular in recent history, as the Boston Red Sox won the championship for the first time in eighty-six years, ending the “Curse of the Bambino” while capturing the interest of baseball and non-baseball fans alike. With the recent steroid scandal, however, baseball has become headline news for less dignified reasons.  In a recent New York Times article by Selena Roberts (“Don’t Forget to Bring Your Own Truth Serum,” December 8, 2004, p D1), consumer advocate and politician Ralph Nader asks fans to consider the legal and ethical ramifications of baseball’s home run champion Barry Bonds admitting to the use of illegal steroids. “The question is, has the ball that signifies Bond’s 700th home run been procured under false pretenses because it was generated while taking illegal steroids?”  Nader suggests that the Bond’s case is actionable, and perhaps fans should sue him.

Meanwhile, as similar scandals involving drugs, corrupt judges, and accounts of bribery permeate sports, major cities around the globe continue to aggressively campaign to host the ultimate sports challenge, the Olympics. Politicians and advocates spend enormous amounts of resources devising public relations campaigns that will convince their constituency to support the massive construction projects necessary to win the Olympic bid. Stadium building, a hallmark of every Olympic campaign, can radically change the economy and landscape of a city through international exposure and potential revenue. However, history demonstrates that hosting the Olympics does not always guarantee a windfall profit, and in some cases it becomes an economic drag for the community once the initial hype from the event is over.

The line between sports, politics, entertainment, and consumerism has never been more unclear.  Coincidentally, this exhibition opens almost one year after Janet Jackson’s “wardrobe malfunction” during the halftime celebration of the Super Bowl, America’s annual holiday of football and commerce. The exposure of a naked breast on network television sent the FCC into a panic, casting the actual game as secondary to the bizarre spectacle which unfolded.

Sports is a global industry—a powerful nexus of advertising and consumerism—and at the same time a local phenomenon. It is a source of civic and national pride as well as an activity in which the fan or participant finds personal meaning and gratification. The artists in this exhibition exist somewhere between these boundaries, and make work from unique conceptual, cultural, and aesthetic points of view. It would be oversimplifying matters to declare that these artists just make work about sports. Some of them consistently explore this subject, however, others have touched upon it only through a broader cultural investigation.  The relationship between sports and society is a classic ‘chicken and egg’ conundrum, and the work in the exhibition reflects this. A common thread among these artists is an awareness of (or a concern about, perhaps) the self and personal identity in an increasingly global context. The sports industry—unlike other forms of popular culture—elevates this condition to an emotional level where personal investment and local character is tested against a sporting industry that is increasingly commercialized, viewing its audience both as consumers and as fans. These artists find the spectacle of sports genuinely alluring: some as fans themselves, as participants, or merely as observers.

The subtitle of the exhibition, Looking at Sports in Contemporary Art, can be read in two distinct ways that together illuminate the scope of the exhibition. On one hand, the phrase simply identifies the underlying theme of sports and art, and the function of the exhibition to bring together related work and artists. The phrase dually conveys the function of the artists looking at sports within the practice of their work. In the same way we second-guess a referee’s call with instant replay, or rewind live games with the use of TiVo, the artists embrace the participatory role of the audience, and find ways to slow down the spectacle of sports in order to examine its underlying relevance. Within the exhibition several themes emerge such as the commerce between hero and anti-hero (Robin Rhode, Tracey Moffatt, and Lee Walton), fandom and comodification (Julie Henry), competition and progress (Francesco Finizio), the media spectacle (Christoph Draeger), globalization and identity (SunTek Chung), iconography and form (Jacques Julien), and personal narrative (Kambui Olujimi). The allure of sports has proven timeless and essential, and the artists in the exhibition have looked closely at the subject to help us understand why.  •