Non-Neutral Terrain: The Model of The Museum-in-Solidarity – Past Disquiet at Framer Framed
Alina Lupu visits Past Disquiet at Framer Framed, an exhibition that spotlights the model of the museum-in-solidarity, a reimagining of an institution that emerges from political struggles, built on the voluntary contributions of artists to support liberation movements. The exhibition traces examples from Chile, Nicaragua, South Africa, and Palestine, showing how art was mobilized as resistance rather than mere display. The show connects these efforts to historical activism initiatives in the Netherlands, where solidarity initiatives continue to grow, and are now more urgent and needed than ever.
Artists often give up control over their work to cultural institutions in exchange for validation and market recognition. That’s just how the system works. Sometimes they do it willingly – one less thing to worry about, so they can focus on making art, without the hassle of dealing with its display. They carefully curate their own public image but leave the curation of their actual work to institutions.
How is my work exhibited? Who funds the institutions displaying it? How does it travel? What are the politics behind the exhibition? These questions are often left for institutions to decide. The trade-off? Clout over agency. This setup works fine in times of political calm. But when crises hit, when artists and audiences alike are pulled into social movements, suddenly, agency matters more than clout.
We’re in such a moment now, a time of intense social transformation. It calls for reimagining how things are done. So, picture a different kind of museum, one that gives agency instead of taking it. A museum where artists not only own their work but also control how it’s shown, archived, and moved around. A museum free from capitalist forms of patronage, imperialist agendas, or colonial entanglements. A museum that’s not just about showcasing art, but putting it to work, in solidarity.
These are the propositions behind Past Disquiet, now on display at Framer Framed. The exhibition, a result of a decade of research and in its seventh iteration, presents multiple examples of how a museum-in-solidarity can function. They’re collections of works freely donated by artists to support liberation movements and struggles for justice. It highlights four key historical cases: a museum for the Chilean revolution, one for the struggle in Nicaragua, an anti-apartheid collection for South Africa, and a ‘museum’ rooted in solidarity with Palestine.
These weren’t isolated efforts. A research team at Framer Framed, starting in the autumn of 2024, delved into archives at the International Institute of Social History in Amsterdam, uncovering ties between Dutch activist committees and these global struggles. These included the Komitee Zuidelijk Afrika, Werkgroup Kairos (a Christian anti-apartheid group), the Anti-Apartheid Beweging Nederland, the Chili Komitee Nederland, and the Nicaragua Komitee Nederland, all of which played roles in supporting the four causes. The exhibition also connects them to the Dutch context, showing how international solidarity took shape locally by highlighting the Dutch squatters’ movement of the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s, a key reference point for grassroots resistance. Past Disquiet isn’t a conventional art exhibition. There’s no single masterpiece to admire, as a nod to the spirit of the four causes. Instead, it’s an overwhelming, sprawling display of interviews, images, videos, archival documents, posters, flyers, catalogues, and publications, pasted on walls, hung from the ceiling, or in scaffolded presentations, offered as reproductions rather than untouchable originals. There’s not a vitrine in sight! It’s a genealogy of resistance, tracing politically engaged art embedded in the struggles it reflects. There’s no ‘right’ way to engage with it. You can explore by movement, focus on one topic, or wander freely and discover unexpected connections. Patterns emerge: the ways museums-in-solidarity function, the forms of art they prioritize, the methods of resistance they employ.
We’re in a time of intense social transformation. It calls for reimagining how things are done
They value art that is supple, that moves across borders and political climates, in many cases, that can be easily replicated. Yes, sculpture and painting are still a focus. Yes, one can still name-drop, and there are plenty of names dropped – Lucy Lippard, Louis Aragon, Joan Miró, Lygia Clark, Frank Stella, etc etc etc –, but then also think posters, murals, T-shirts, songs, poetry, dance, chants, art made to be shared, not hoarded, art made collectively, not just as an individual pursuit. The museum of the future, the alternative museum, which can take this as a model, disrupts the very idea of the singular, sacred art object while still collecting, just differently. Because the artworks in museums-in-solidarity weren’t just collected for admiration; they traveled, they were created on-site, they built histories of resistance. Art, through them, wasn’t separate from political change, it was part of it.
The story begins with the International Art Exhibition for Palestine [1] (200 works from 200 artists across 30 countries), organized by the PLO’s Plastic Arts Section in 1978. It opened just after Israel’s invasion of Lebanon. Much of its history was lost in subsequent Israeli invasions, but this erasure pushed Palestinian cultural organizers later on to prioritize flexible, reproducible forms of art: posters, films, public space painting. Through such examples, art itself became resistance, especially in a time when Palestinian artistic expression ended up so restricted that even the colors of the Palestinian flag (black, green, red, white) were banned, leading to the watermelon becoming a covert symbol of defiance. The museum for the Chilean revolution emerged from Salvador Allende’s call for artists to support his socialist government. Before the coup in 1973, the museum held over 650 works. After the coup, it transformed into a traveling museum, exposing the Pinochet regime’s human rights abuses. Over time, it evolved from Museo de la Solidaridad(1971) to Museo Internacional de la Resistencia Salvador Allende (1972), and finally to Museo de la Solidaridad Salvador Allende (1990), when democracy was restored.
The Nicaraguan museum-in-solidarity took shape in 1982, collecting over 300 works from exiled Latin American and Spanish artists. It evolved from Museo de Arte Contemporáneo Latinoamericano de Managua to Museo Julio Cortázar, and eventually became part of the Palacio Nacional de Cultura, holding 1,912 works by 923 artists from 36 countries.
Last but not least, the anti-apartheid museum-in-solidarity emerged in 1983 through the Artists of the World Against Apartheid Committee, marking 20 years since the UN condemned apartheid as a violation of its Charter. Capped at 150 works, it was designed to be mobile, ensuring it could travel globally, including to Amsterdam.
Even today, small-scale versions of what these museums-in-solidarity stand for exist in the Netherlands
Even today, small-scale versions of what these museums-in-solidarity stand for exist in the Netherlands. One example is Tabaria Café, active in supporting Palestine since the start of the genocide, hosting pop-up events that fundraise through art sales, food sharing, podcasts, screen-printing, and protest participation. Another example is the International Art Academies for Palestine, A coalition of students from art academies encompassing Cooper Union, Koninklijke Academie van Beeldende Kunsten The Hague, Massachusetts College of Art and Design, Pratt Institute, Rietveld Academie, School of Art Institute of Chicago, Sydney College of Arts, Tokyo University of Art, University of Arts London and the Zürcher Hochschule der Künste. Their latest project is an upcoming exhibition in Japan, created in collaboration with Birzeit University in Palestine, set to open in May 2025, mediated online, putting collectively created prints on display.
Within the context of the exhibition, events are planned to look at forms of protest and actions, to activate the archive, and learn from it how to make activism durable in the present. The exhibition couldn’t be more timely. Though one can also turn this statement on its head. The urgency of practicing solidarity has been emphasized for such a long time that institutions are finally catching up and programming accordingly.
Past Disquiet opened amid ongoing Dutch protests for Palestine, and against police violence. The same play by play one sees in the exhibition, is playing out in the streets. Resistance and counter-resistance, mutual aid systems, oppressive forms of policing solidarity statements, and artists joining protests and looking for new formats in which they can bring matters of urgency to general attention. Just days prior to the opening in Framer Framed, a student from the 2024 anti-genocide encampments in Amsterdam was sentenced to 2 months in prison for resisting police violence.[2] And the day after the opening, a protest [3] in their support marched through Dam Square and to the Maagdenhuis, echoing past resistance. In May, as Past Disquiet continues, it will coincide with the one-year anniversary of those same encampments.
The student encampments for Palestine could be seen as networked global museums-in-solidarity. Their programming filled with teach-ins, banner making sessions, barricade building, free food, history lessons, libraries built in realtime and speakers that stood up for Palestine attest to this. Past Disquiet reminds us that these types of museums are livingarchives, archives with the power to resist, but only if they’re brought into the present, taken out into the streets, made to inhabit new institutions, not stopping at a beautiful illustration of what has been, moving forward to what can be, to enacting political change. Left in storage, these archives, lose their potency. Marely displayed; they also don’t account for much. Nourished, their structures replicated, they have the power to grant artists their agency, their full ownership over their works, how they are made, how they are displayed, and what they stand for, in solidarity, reshaping the understanding of what we mean when we think about artistic practice.
The student encampments for Palestine could be seen as networked global museums-in-solidarity
Now, what one needs to see as far as Past Disquiet goes, is the space of Framer Framed transformed through the open sessions that they’re planning, and beyond them, into a true space for dialogue, into a practice of a new type of future, rather than just a nostalgic remembrance of the past. That’s the thing with museums-in-solidarity. The work begins when they open, but it continues growing everyday. Remains to see if Framer Framed can rise up to the occasion and become one, rather than just a custodian of history.
[1] Catalog of the International Art Exhibition for Palestine: https://www.academia.edu/105512954/catalog_International_Art_Exhibition_for_Palestine_1978
[2] Student jailed for attacking police at pro-Palestine demo, February 25, 2025: https://www.dutchnews.nl/2025/02/student-jailed-for-attacking-police-at-pro-palestine-demo/
[3] Announcement for emergency protest “Stand with the Students”, Dam Square, Amsterdam, Friday, 28th February: https://www.instagram.com/p/DGizIEIobsE/
The exhibition Past Disquiet is on show until the 25th of May at Framer Framer
On May 2 Framer Framed presents a Work Session on Art and Activism: Where Are We Heading?, 16.00-20.00 hrs INFO
Alina Lupu
