This paper is concerned not with whether cultural production continues, but with the conditions under which it is now required to do so.

In recent short articles, Exposure Not Experience, Search Not Research, and Profess Not Profession, I examined shifts within art education and practice as they occur inside the contemporary university. Those texts identified a series of displacements: in how practitioners are formed, how work is undertaken, and how it is transmitted.

What emerged was not a collapse of activity, but a transformation in its underlying conditions.

This essay extends that line of inquiry beyond the institutional frame into a broader cultural field. It does not argue that new forms are no longer possible, nor that cultural production has ceased. On the contrary, practice persists, often with intensity and seriousness. What has altered are the conditions under which such practices emerge, are sustained, and are recognised.

The claim, then, is not that forms have ended, but that the conditions that once made them legible, durable, and transmissible have undergone a profound shift.

What follows is an attempt to describe that shift with some precision.

1. From Postmodernism to Post-Mortem

The term postmodernism once provided a means of describing a shift in the cultural and epistemological conditions of late twentieth-century practice. It named a situation in which grand narratives had lost their authority, in which plurality displaced unity, and in which meaning was understood as contingent, unstable, and constructed. Within art, this registered as a proliferation of forms, references, and strategies that no longer required alignment with a single historical trajectory.

For a time, this description held. It allowed for a recognition of multiplicity without requiring coherence, and for a form of critical distance from the claims of modernism. Yet even in its emphasis on fragmentation and plurality, postmodernism retained an underlying assumption: that there remained a shared condition within which such plurality could be recognised as such.

That assumption is now less certain.

What has shifted is not simply the content or style of cultural production, but the conditions under which such production takes place and is understood. The frameworks that once allowed for the identification of a “moment” (whether modern or postmodern) no longer operate with the same coherence. The field has not resolved into a new dominant paradigm. Instead, it has become increasingly difficult to describe as a unified condition at all.

This difficulty is not the result of a lack of activity. Cultural production continues, often with considerable intensity. Nor is it the case that new forms have ceased to emerge. On the contrary, variation, mutation, and innovation persist across multiple sites of practice. What has altered are the conditions that once allowed such developments to be situated within a shared horizon of recognition.

The language of postmodernism, with its emphasis on plurality and fragmentation, appears at first glance to anticipate this situation. However, the present condition differs in a significant respect. Postmodernism described a plurality within a still recognisable field. The current situation is characterised less by plurality within a shared condition than by the dispersal of conditions themselves, without resolution into a new organising frame.

This dispersal does not produce an outside. The institutional structures associated with art (universities, galleries, funding bodies, markets) continue to operate. Their languages persist: research, innovation, critique, practice. Roles remain in place, and with them the appearance of continuity. Yet the capacity of these structures to provide a common ground has diminished. They function, but no longer organise.

It is in this sense that the term post-mortem is proposed. Not to indicate an end, nor to suggest a cultural exhaustion, but to describe a situation in which activity continues after the withdrawal of its former grounds. What has receded is not practice itself, but the conditions that once allowed it to be situated within a shared horizon of recognition. The organising principles that once enabled practices to be located, sustained, and recognised have not disappeared entirely, but their coherence has weakened. This is not modernity as an incomplete project, but cultural production as a continuation without a shared project.

 

Within such a condition, practice does not cease. Rather, it proceeds differently. Without a single, stable framework in which to situate itself, it moves across multiple, partially connected contexts: institutional and extra-institutional, visible and marginal, supported and self-constructed. The task is less one of positioning within a field than of navigating a terrain that no longer resolves into a unified structure.

 

What emerges is not a new paradigm, but a change in how practice relates to its conditions. If postmodernism marked a shift in how meaning was understood, the present condition marks a shift in how practice is situated. The question is no longer how to locate oneself within a given framework, but how to proceed when the framework itself no longer holds as a shared condition.

 

It is this shift: from a plurality within a shared field to a dispersal of the field itself that this essay seeks to describe.

 

2. Persistence of Form, Withdrawal of ConditionIf the preceding account suggests a change in the conditions under which practice takes place, it is necessary to clarify what, precisely, has and has not altered.

 

It would be misleading to describe the present situation in terms of disappearance. Forms have not ceased to emerge. Nor has cultural production entered a state of simple repetition. Across a range of practices, one can observe ongoing variation, mutation, and invention. New configurations continue to appear, often with a high degree of specificity and commitment.

 

What has altered is not the existence of form, but the conditions under which form becomes legible as such.

 

This distinction is central. It is not a condition in which forms continue because they are exhausted or inert, but one in which they continue under altered conditions of grounding. The persistence of form does not, in itself, indicate the persistence of the frameworks that once enabled its recognition, transmission, and duration.

 

Previously, the emergence of new work could be situated, however provisionally, within a shared field. Even where positions differed, there remained a degree of mutual intelligibility: a set of overlapping references, institutions, and discourses through which work could be encountered and understood. This did not produce consensus, but it did provide a horizon against which differences could register.

That horizon has thinned.

 

The result is not that work becomes unintelligible, but that its intelligibility is increasingly localised. Practices are often recognised within specific contexts: particular institutions, networks, or discursive communities without necessarily extending beyond them. What appears as significant within one configuration may remain largely invisible within another. The field no longer guarantees a passage between these sites.

 

This does not imply isolation in any simple sense. On the contrary, connections proliferate. Work circulates across platforms, networks, and contexts with increasing speed. Yet such circulation does not necessarily produce coherence. Movement between sites does not ensure continuity of meaning, nor does it establish a shared framework within which that meaning can stabilise.

 

Under these conditions, duration becomes more difficult to sustain. The capacity for a practice to unfold over time, to accumulate recognition, and to maintain a trajectory is no longer supported in the same way by institutional or discursive structures. Instead, practices are often required to generate and maintain their own conditions of continuity, assembling provisional supports across disparate contexts.

 

It is here that the withdrawal of condition becomes most apparent. What has receded is not the activity of making, but the background against which such activity could be situated as part of a larger, ongoing conversation. The sense of a field that could hold and register developments over time has weakened.

 

This weakening does not produce a void. Rather, it gives rise to a situation in which multiple, partial conditions coexist. Institutional frameworks continue to operate, but no longer function as singular points of orientation. Alongside them, other forms of organisation (self-initiated structures, informal networks, platform-based distributions) take on an increased role. None of these, however, resolves into a dominant condition.

The consequence is a shift in how practice proceeds. Without a stable ground in which to locate itself, practice becomes increasingly dependent on its capacity to move across these conditions, to establish temporary alignments, and to sustain itself within a non-coherent field.

 

The persistence of form, in this sense, is not evidence of continuity in the conditions of cultural production, but of their transformation. Forms continue to appear, but they do so within a landscape in which the frameworks that once supported their emergence and recognition have been altered.

 

What follows from this is not a claim about decline, but a change in the relation between practice and its conditions. If forms persist, it is because practice continues to operate within and across a field that no longer resolves into a shared horizon, but must instead be navigated.

 

3. Institutional Afterlife

If the conditions that once provided a shared horizon have weakened, this does not imply the disappearance of the structures through which practice has historically been organised. Institutions remain. Universities, galleries, funding bodies, and publishing platforms continue to operate, often with considerable visibility and activity. Their presence can give the impression of continuity, as though the underlying conditions of cultural production remain intact.

 

Yet this continuity is not straightforward.

 

What persists are the forms and languages of organisation: research, innovation, practice, discipline, critique. These terms continue to structure how work is described, evaluated, and disseminated. Roles also remain in place: artist, student, professor, curator each carrying with it an expectation of function and position within a broader field.

 

However, the persistence of these structures does not necessarily indicate the persistence of the conditions that once grounded them.

 

Institutions continue to provide frameworks for activity, but their capacity to organise that activity into a coherent field has diminished. The relation between institutional structures and the practices they host has become less stable. Work may pass through these frameworks (exhibited, assessed, published) without being fully situated by them. The institution registers activity, but no longer guarantees its placement within a shared horizon.

 

This can be observed in the persistence of disciplinary frameworks. Departments, subject areas, and categories continue to structure education and exhibition, often with increasing administrative precision. Yet these frameworks do not consistently correspond to how practice unfolds. The relations between them are no longer secured by a broader structure of coherence. As a result, disciplinary distinctions remain in place without necessarily providing a stable ground for recognition.

 

The same work may be read differently, or not at all, depending on the context in which it appears. What is legible within one configuration may not translate into another. The institution does not resolve these differences, but accommodates them as parallel, often non-intersecting modes of recognition.

 

In this sense, institutions operate within a condition that might be described as an afterlife. They persist, but no longer function as singular points of orientation. Their authority is neither fully intact nor entirely withdrawn. Instead, it is distributed across a range of partial, overlapping contexts, each capable of sustaining activity, but none capable of organising the field as a whole.

 

This does not render institutions irrelevant. On the contrary, they remain significant sites through which practice is supported, encountered, and circulated. However, their role has shifted. Rather than providing a stable ground within which practice can be located, they form part of a more complex terrain through which practice must move.

 

The consequence is not the disappearance of institutional frameworks, but their transformation. They no longer operate as the primary conditions under which practice is formed, sustained, and recognised. Instead, they exist alongside other structures: self-initiated, networked, or platform-based within a field that does not resolve into a single organising system.

What emerges is a situation in which institutions persist as visible structures, even as the conditions that once gave them coherence have thinned. Their continued operation does not restore a shared horizon, but contributes to a landscape in which multiple, partially connected conditions coexist without resolution.

 

It is within this landscape that practice must now proceed.

 

4. Compression and Displacement

If institutions persist while their organising capacity weakens, this is accompanied by a further shift in the conditions under which practice is undertaken. This shift can be described in terms of compression.

 

Time, attention, and resource are increasingly structured through accelerated cycles of production and evaluation. Work is required to appear, circulate, and register within shortened intervals, often aligned with institutional rhythms: assessment periods, funding deadlines, exhibition cycles, publication schedules. These rhythms do not necessarily support the longer durations through which practices have historically developed, but instead impose a sequence of discrete moments of visibility.

 

At the same time, certain institutional durations have lengthened. Exhibitions, for example, often extend over longer periods, reflecting reduced resources and less frequent programming. This apparent expansion of time does not counter the broader condition of compression, but introduces a further disjunction between the temporalities of production, presentation, and reception.

 

Under such conditions, continuity becomes more difficult to sustain. The unfolding of a practice over time, its capacity to accumulate, to hesitate, to return, must often be negotiated within frameworks that prioritise periodic output over extended duration. The result is not the cessation of sustained work, but the need for such work to operate across interruptions, assembling itself through intervals rather than within a continuous trajectory.

 

This compression is not confined to institutional contexts. It extends across the wider field in which practice circulates. Platforms, networks, and modes of dissemination encourage forms of engagement that are immediate, provisional, and subject to rapid displacement. Work moves quickly between contexts, but this movement does not necessarily produce depth of reception or continuity of understanding. Instead, it often results in a succession of partial encounters.

 

The effect is not simply one of speed, but of displacement.

 

Practices are required to move between sites: physical and digital, institutional and self-organised without any single site providing a stable ground. Each context offers a form of support or visibility, but none secures the conditions under which a practice can be fully situated. What is gained in access and circulation is offset by a loss of continuity.

 

This displacement is also evident in the relation between production and recognition. The processes through which work is made and the frameworks through which it is evaluated do not always align. Recognition may occur in one context while the conditions of making are located elsewhere. The connection between the two becomes less direct, requiring practitioners to navigate between multiple, partially connected systems.

 

Within this situation, practices increasingly assume responsibility for their own continuity. Where institutional or discursive frameworks no longer provide a stable background, practitioners assemble provisional conditions through which work can persist. These may take the form of self-initiated structures, informal networks, or recurring modes of presentation that operate alongside, rather than within, established frameworks.

 

Such arrangements do not replace the structures that have weakened, but coexist with them. They offer temporary alignments rather than lasting solutions, enabling practice to proceed without resolving the broader condition.

 

It is in this context that the dispersal of conditions becomes materially apparent. The withdrawal of a shared horizon is not experienced as absence, but as a proliferation of demands, opportunities, and partial supports, none of which cohere into a single, organising framework.

 

The consequence is a shift in the relation between practice and its conditions of time and space. Practice is no longer situated within a continuous field that supports its development, but must instead negotiate a landscape characterised by interruption, movement, and uneven distribution of attention.

 

This does not prevent sustained or serious work from taking place. However, it alters the manner in which such work is maintained. Duration is no longer given; it must be constructed. Continuity is no longer assumed; it must be assembled across discontinuous contexts.

 

What emerges is a condition in which practice persists, but does so under compression and displacement, moving across a field that does not stabilise into a shared structure, but remains in a state of ongoing redistribution.

 

5. Practice Without Ground

If the preceding sections describe a field in which conditions have dispersed, institutions persist in altered form, and temporalities no longer align, the question becomes how practice proceeds within such a situation.

It would be misleading to suggest that practice now operates in the absence of all structure. Frameworks remain available, and practitioners continue to engage with them in varied ways. Work is still produced, presented, and circulated through recognisable channels. Yet these channels no longer provide a stable ground in which practice can be fully situated.

 

What has altered is the relation between practice and its conditions.

 

Previously, practice could assume, however provisionally, that it operated within a field that would register its development over time. Even where that field was contested or uneven, it provided a horizon against which work could be oriented. The question was how to position oneself within it.

 

That question has shifted.

 

Practice no longer encounters a single field in which positions can be established, but a set of conditions that do not resolve into a unified structure. The task is not simply one of positioning, but of proceeding without the assurance that such positioning will hold across contexts.

 

Under these circumstances, practice becomes increasingly responsible for the construction of its own conditions. This does not imply autonomy in any absolute sense, but a shift in emphasis. Where previously the field provided a degree of continuity and support, practitioners now assemble provisional frameworks through which work can persist.

 

These frameworks may take multiple forms: recurring modes of presentation, self-initiated platforms, sustained collaborations, or the reconfiguration of existing institutional relationships. None of these, however, establishes a stable ground. They operate as temporary alignments, enabling practice to continue without resolving the broader condition.

 

The consequence Is a change In how continuity Is achieved. Rather than unfolding within a stable field, practice must now maintain itself across discontinuities, negotiating shifts in context, recognition, and support. Continuity becomes an effect of ongoing effort rather than a condition provided in advance.

 

This does not produce a uniform mode of practice. On the contrary, it gives rise to a range of responses, from those that seek to stabilise conditions locally to those that move fluidly between them. What these approaches share is an engagement with a field that no longer guarantees coherence.

 

It is in this sense that practice becomes navigational.

 

Navigation does not imply direction toward a fixed destination, nor the traversal of a stable terrain. Rather, it describes a mode of proceeding within a landscape whose conditions are uneven, shifting, and only partially legible. To navigate is to move across such a landscape without assuming that its structures will align.

 

Within this framework, practice is not defined by its position within a field, but by its capacity to operate across conditions that do not fully cohere. The question is no longer where a practice belongs, but how it proceeds.

 

This shift does not mark a break with previous forms of practice, but a change in the conditions under which they are sustained. Practices continue, often with considerable seriousness and commitment. However, they do so without the support of a shared horizon, and must instead establish their own trajectories across a field that remains unresolved.

 

It is this movement: across, between, and within multiple, partially connected conditions that defines the present situation.

 

6. Continuation Without Ground

The account developed here does not lead to a conclusion in any conventional sense. It does not propose a new framework to replace those that have weakened, nor does it identify a direction in which the field might resolve. The condition described is not transitional in that way. It does not point toward a subsequent coherence.

 

What it indicates, rather, is a situation in which practice continues without the support of a shared ground.

 

This continuation is not uniform. It takes place across multiple, partially connected conditions, each providing different forms of support, visibility, and constraint. No single condition is sufficient to organise the field as a whole, and none can be assumed in advance. The result is not the disappearance of structure, but its redistribution.

 

Within this redistribution, practices persist. Work continues to be made, encountered, and sustained, often with considerable seriousness and commitment. What has altered is the relation between that work and the conditions that once provided its orientation.

The absence of a shared horizon does not produce silence, nor does it result in a simple fragmentation into isolated parts. Instead, it gives rise to a field characterised by uneven connections, intermittent alignments, and shifting points of recognition. Practices do not withdraw from this field, but operate within it, negotiating its discontinuities.

 

In this sense, the present condition is not defined by loss alone. It involves a reconfiguration of how practice is situated. Without a stable ground, the coherence of a practice can no longer be assumed as a property of the field, but must be established in other ways. This does not guarantee that such coherence will hold, nor that it will be recognised beyond the contexts in which it is produced.

 

What follows from this is not a prescription, but a description. The task is not to restore a prior condition, nor to declare the emergence of a new one, but to attend to how practice proceeds within the present situation.

 

This essay has suggested that what has altered are not the forms of cultural production, but the conditions under which those forms are grounded, recognised, and sustained. The persistence of form is not evidence of continuity in those conditions, but of their transformation.

 

This is not modernity as an incomplete project, but cultural production as a continuation without a shared project.

 

To describe this condition as post-mortem is not to suggest an end, but to recognise that activity continues after the withdrawal of its former grounds. What remains is not a unified field, but a set of conditions that do not fully cohere.

 

Within such a situation, practice does not cease. It proceeds.

 

Not within a shared structure, but across a field that must be navigated as it is encountered.

 

 

 

Tim Brennan, 2026